I’m not a Boston fan
I don’t love the city or their teams
I don’t drape my shoulders in anything remotely Celtic Green
But my heart can ache
For the injured Alien whose
Ligament(s) tore, ripped, shredded
Like sheets of paper
Covered in inky dreams
The point guard from another planet, another world or underworld
With extra-terrestrially long fingers
An infinite scowl that’s
Like looking into the bottom of an inkwell
Shifty shifting eyes straight from a Gorillaz animation,
Demeanor borrowed from Mad Max’s post-apocalyptic Thunderdome,
Always alert, always suspicious,
Trusting no one, no thing, not even the man-made ligaments he was given
A black hole mood that rises with the moon
…yes, Rajon Rondo has fallen
Kids choke back kelly green tears
Garnett & Pierce in their wizened years
Understanding now more than ever
The importance of young Rondo
But the shredded ligament (that we didn’t know he had), the last
Single elastic straw that held up
The hope of a million Celtics fans
Collapsed under the expectations
And amid the rubble, Celtics fans attempt to
Soldier on
While Danny Ainge painfully retrieves a stuffed,
Frayed, and Faded manila folder
Stenciled with red letters spelling out:
DECONSTRUCTION
Danny and Doc deeply contemplate deconstruction
While Rondo sits in a chair in the corner
Quietly sipping seltzer water
Thinking of the Moon
Like this:
Like Loading...