L.A. is my office, but "Boston you're my home!"

I am a Celtics fan. I say this proudly, and with a great big gloating smirk now that I live in L.A. and the beloved Lakers are down 2-0 in a rejuvenated, exhilarating NBA Finals. But at the same time I say this, I say it with a chip on my shoulder. See, I’m what some might call a “plastic paddy” when it comes to the Celtics. In fact some people have called me that, or at least they would if I hadn’t just branded the term as it relates to Celtics fans right here on the spot (I dare you to find somebody who did it first! And if you do, I’ll ignore that evidence just like Jack ignored the Island disappearing right before his eyes! ‘Cause that’s just how stubborn I am).
Those people called me other things, but I think you get my point.
For those of you not familiar with the term “plastic paddy,” I’ll fill you in. My Irish buddy…from here on out to be known on this blog as…IRISH…we had plenty of other nicknames for him, but he hated all of them, and I can’t really remember them at the moment so IRISH it shall be…anyway, IRISH came to America Eddie Murphy style last August to pursue the same silly dreams of cinematic heroism as the rest of my transported crew, and THE GLOW was quick to induct him into THE ALLIANCE. In the process, THE GLOW was kind enough to describe me as being (among plenty of other horrible and image defecating things, I’m sure) the “Irish” guy. IRISH met me and quickly dubbed me a “plastic paddy,” aka “fake Irish.” I don’t have the accent. I’m not a pure blood (only a half blood). I can drink IRISH under the table any day of the week, but that doesn’t matter. I’m a replica. I’m not the real deal.
There are plenty of “plastic paddy’s” hopping the Celtic bandwagon this year, and although I’m a long term fan and bleed true Boston sports team blood, I could easily be lumped among them by anybody who wants to give me a hard time. See whereas I’ve always been a diehard Sox, Patriots and Bruins fan, I’ve been known to cheer for other teams in the NBA (not in place of, but in addition to).
Which brings me to a question I received three times over the past week, via text, gchat and phone – “So, who are you rooting for?”
Yes, in my horribly not so secret past, I committed what some might call a horrible sin – I cheered for the Lakers.
To many a Boston fan, cheering for the Lakers is like cheering for the Canadians, the Colts or – the worst of them all – THE YANKEES. And in the 60s, 70s, 80s and pretty much all of NBA history, I’d say it probably was. But as an 80s baby with a somewhat lacking (to put it kindly) father figure, I failed to develop the appropriate hatred for a team that hasn’t mattered to the Celtics in two decades. It’s easy to hate the Yankees – it’s a rivalry that matters EVERY SUMMER. You can say the same for the Colts, who’ve become a meaningful opponent for the post-millenium new look Pats. To a lesser extent, you can even say the same about those hooligans from Montreal – at the least they’re a division rival.
But the Lakers? The Celtics have played them about 2 games a season for the last 20 years. None of which mattered. They weren’t in our division. We never played against them in the playoffs (when we made it). A Lakers/Celtics game was like a game against the Buffalo Bills - IT DIDN’T MATTER.
I didn’t watch the Magic/Bird battles. I missed out on the glorious Bill Russell years. I came to age in a time where this “rivalry” simply didn’t exist, and I lacked the true history lessons in hatred necessary to keep it alive.
(The Sports Guy, bless his sarcastic heart, recently offered this nugget of factual knowledge – “Boston beat L.A. for the title eight straight times before falling in 1985. If that's a long-standing rivalry, so is Tom vs. Jerry, Andy vs. The Sistas and hammer vs. nail. Isn't it more of a ‘recent rivalry that was once a relentless butt-whupping’?”)
If it sounds like I’m justifying my decision to cheer for Kobe and Co., I’m not. I’m simply saying that I was misguided. I was wrong to go against my heritage, even if I didn’t inherit it properly. It was sacrilegious to cheer for a hated rival, even though they weren’t a rival. I blame the devil for enticing me with wondrous on-court action and excitement. I like to watch Kobe play. It was fun (unlike, say, the Spurs or the Pistons, who live and die by boring basketball).
Okay, I seem incapable of admitting I’m wrong here. I’ll just say this – THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT!
Regardless, this one thing I promise – I have always and will always prefer green over yellow, purple or any combination of the two. I know where my priorities lie.
Go Celts!