I'm in New York for this. On Long Island. Just under an hour east of the Barclays Center in the sleepy hamlet of Bellmore, at my girlfriend's family's house, visiting for a long weekend.
The girlfriend is keeping the TV on E! until 12:00 on the dot, watching a Keeping Up with the Kardashians re-run. Yes – one featuring Kris Humphries (gut punch no. 1). When the time comes, we'll switch over to YES, since I'll be watching this unfold on the official network of the New York Yankees (gut punch no. 2). The suspense builds with each minute as we approach high noon.
11:56... 11:57... 11:58... 11:59...
And we're in.
The opening montage of cherished Celtics highlights spliced with Brooklyn iconography is killing me. Last summer I was ripping into the too-hip-for-its-own-good, black-and-white "Hello Brooklyn" branding for the newly-relocated Nets the minute it was revealed, and, this summer, Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce are swimming in it. It's a sight I never would've imagined 12 months ago.
As we wait for the presser to kick off, a silent shot of the Barclays jumbotron displays a colorless photo of the Ticket, the Truth and Jason Terry photoshopped in Nets unis, and the girlfriend breaks the tension. "It's very somber right now – it looks like they died." It's funny but, for a die-hard C's fan, it almost feels like they have.
And then, suddenly, we're at the podium and underway. The proceedings move quickly. Billy King, Jason Kidd and Jason Terry are supporting characters, well-spoken and mostly clichéd. But the stars of the day leave me with two enduring images.
The first? What's up, Brooklyn?! When Kevin Garnett says his first words as a Brooklyn Net, he's smiling. He's happy, and I'm happy he's happy. When the guy who saved your favorite team – a guy who happens to be the most insanely loyal person to ever play team sports – when that guy gets traded for the second time in his career, you hope he's really OK with it. You hope he didn't agree to sign off on that trade reluctantly. But KG is happy. He's ready to start anew.
The second enduring image is just the opposite from the first. Paul's first words as a Brooklyn Net? There's no smiling. It's measured. It's deliberate. It's respectful of the one-team career that wasn't. It borders on somber. He mentions feeling "a little bit of excitement" about his new opportunity a little ways down I-95 from his longtime home, but his face doesn't show it.
It will. As the minutes pass and the Gotham press tosses questions at their newest quote-machines, the mood of the former (former) Celtic captain lightens. The "little bit of excitement," we can see, is more than real. But those opening minutes confirm what the Garden faithful who've cheered him on since the Clinton administration have secretly pined to know with their own eyes over the past few weeks: Paul Anthony Pierce really is just as bummed as we are about not finishing his career in Celtic green.
KG assured us today of the old adage that change is good. It can be for the better. And this change probably will be, too. I'll continue to root for my Celtics, just like I did before the cocky kid from Inglewood came to town. I'll get to know Brad Stevens. I'll fret over, argue over (with others and with myself), worry about and wonder about the ever-enigmatic Rajon Pierre Rondo. We'll rebuild.
But, contrary to what the funeral colors the folks in Brooklyn are so fond of might indicate, Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce aren't dead, and I'm also planning to fire up google and look up the closest sporting goods store as soon as I publish this post. I'll walk into this New York Modell's or Dick's sometime this evening, and I'll purchase a Paul Pierce no. 34 Nets shirt. It's happening. I've made up my mind.
I'm a Celtics fan forever, but love is forever too.
Hello Brooklyn indeed.
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