Jerome Moiso is walking through that door fans…

Last week, Peggy Noonan of The Wall Street Journal earnestly reflected that "a great man is one sentence”. She then laid out a couple of examples with: “He preserved the union and freed the slaves” and “He lifted us out of a great depression and helped us win a World War”, obviously speaking of Abraham Lincoln and Theo Epstein respectively.

Actually, Noonan seemed to indicate that the second quote was about FDR but I assumed this was merely a silly typo. Even so, I think Noonan was onto something. This "one sentence" thing was a nifty little concept, one that had legs, one that I thought might translate well in summing up some of the giants on our own little sports landscape here in Boston.

Bearing this template in mind, see if you can guess these twenty specific great men of Boston sports and their lone sentence that summarizes their greatness:

• He bloodied a sock on the way to post-season glory and made the roads of Medfield safe from drunks.
   
• He destroyed the Boston Celtics and wrote best-selling books on how to be a success.
   
• He broke the single season record for touchdown receptions and fake-mooned deserving Green Bay Packers fans.
   
• He hit like a Hall of Famer and urinated in the Green Monster.
   
• He played 16 years in the NHL and traded Joe Thornton for a sack of potatoes.
   

I covered my first draft three years ago at the Celtics’ practice facility at HealthPoint in Waltham. At the time, despite prior warnings from Alan Greenspan on the matter, I had a lot to learn about the concept of irrational exuberance.

When the trade for Ray Allen was announced as forthcoming (it wouldn’t be made official until Seattle chose Glen Davis on Boston’s behalf with the 5th pick of the second round), it was immediately denounced as a ridiculous move by several of the loud experts in Bristol, Connecticut. In Boston, however, the reporters were more confused than critical. Many seemed to agree that the rumored Garnett trade would be dead in the water and the team would be left with two aging swingmen surrounded by a bunch of kids. Regardless, the general feeling was that the team would at least be better than the squad that had lost 18 in a row the previous season.

While we anxiously await “the next shoe to drop” in Danny Ainge’s oft-rumored off-season master plan, I offer up these few random thoughts…

 

First of all, it seems fairly obvious that on draft night, Danny Ainge and Doc Rivers had a story to sell on behalf of their team owners. Their story had far more to do with the wooing of prospective season ticket holders and less to do with anything related to actual basketball. In short, these good company men attempted to convince us that the reconfigured roster instantly made them serious contenders in the East. It was a humorous moment enjoyed by all until we realized that they were dead serious. They were actually asking us to believe that Ray Allen’s ability to score 25 points per game represented a blanket cure for Boston’s long list of ills. The last time I checked, Ray Allen doesn’t play point guard or defense, which unfortunately remain as two of the team’s most glaring needs.

 

This is not to say that the trade is undesirable on its own merits. There are a number of positives to be fairly acknowledged. For example, when I first heard of the trade, I instantly offered my services to personally bounty hunt Wally Szczerbiak and fasten him to a seat on a one-way plane to Seattle. As for Delonte West and the fifth pick, like most people, I had mixed feelings. I knew I’d miss West’s gritty hustle and steady stream of bizarre quotes that regularly made for good copy. I was also terrified of future hauntings from Li Jianlian, who I came to know as a tiny Chinese menace against terrible competition on my two inch YouTube screen. That is, until I saw him play against the Celtics summer squad in Las Vegas, where he much more closely resembled an overwhelmed Jerome Moiso than an Asian template of Dirk Nowitzki. I’ve been sleeping peacefully ever since.

Anyway, the point of all this is to recognize that NBA Draft Night is almost always a sure bet to be a hot steaming pile of fun, especially with Danny Ainge in charge. Just remember that whatever happens, the eventual reality is likely to look a lot different the following spring.

In case you haven’t heard already, the NBA is a business. Players get traded. Even those who are cherished by teammates and fans alike. Toughen up. Don’t be a nave. It’s just business. Leave the gun. Take the cannoli. Business.

If you were watching Sports Tonight at 10pm this evening then you already know that Felger heard a little rumble today.  Apparently, this rumble was the low growl of Kendrick Perkins upon hearing his name surface in trade rumors.  That rumble could become a full force tremor once the collective fanbase of Celtics internets catches on. 

The rumored deal ain’t bad on the surface; Perkins and Bill Walker for Memphis’ pick at #2 in the upcoming draft.  But considering the lack of depth and size in the frontcourt of this roster, Perk would be a huge loss.  Anyone who listens to Celtics Stuff Live knows that Bill Walker is a unanimous pick for diamond in the rough on our show, and right now sits as the only viable option to back-up Paul Pierce next season barring an offseason move with some or all of the Mid Level Exception.  However, Perkins is the defensive stud with the kick ass contract that kills this deal immediately.  I have a hard time imagining how this team gets better for next season by dealing away Perkins for potential right at the time he finally begins to realize his own.

If this deal has any legs then the ankles are those of Ray Allen and the shoes are the other ones yet to drop.

Here’s the exact quote from Felger, "We heard a rumble today, just a little rumble.  Danny’s throwing a bunch of stuff against the wall as he likes to do.  Memphis sitting there at number two.  Perk and was it JR Giddens?" (Tanguay clarifies it’s Bill Walker).

Some good stuff from my favorite youtube’n Celtics fan:

Growing up in southern Connecticut in the 1980s (I was seven at the beginning of the decade), I wasn’t privileged to read the great Boston Globe sports section of the 1970s and early 1980s, when newspapers served their own areas and could rarely be read in other parts of the country. Too bad, because I would have sopped up the Globe’s coverage of the Sox and Celtics (the only two New England teams I ever liked).

Sports Illustrated this week said that Globe staff, which featured Will McDonough, Bob Ryan, Peter Gammons, Leigh Montville and Dan Shaughnessy, among others, was the best collection of sportswriters in the annals of sports history.

From the mid-1970s to the early ’80s, the Globe contained arguably the greatest collection of reporting talent ever assembled in a sports section, one that was unrivaled in its time and is sure never to be duplicated in an industry that today is bleeding talent. In those halcyon days, the staff’s charge from hard-driving editor Dave Smith was: If a story warranted front-page space, cover it live. Reporter Will McDonough’s directive back to Smith was elemental enough to be a Twitter post: "Get us space, money and get out of the way."

Space? They were afforded reams. Money? Smith rarely heard the term "budget" used at the family-owned paper. Editorial guidance? Only this: Reinvent the form. Take risks.