Boston 114, Indiana 96

Revenge, Part I, is complete. The Celtics made reparations for one of their two losses so far this season by easily dispatching the Pacers.

[recap] [box score]

I had wanted to wait to write my Rajon Rondo post until I had more time and energy. He's the inspiration for the title of this blog; he deserves it. But the young man's performance tonight has forced my hand. Sixteen points, thirteen rebounds, seventeen assists, for those who didn't see it -- the first triple-double of his career. It was a singular performance in Rondo's career to date, for sure, but it was hardly an anomalous one. Anyone who had watched the Celtics closely over the last year-plus -- and these past two weeks, in particular -- knew he was capable of something like this.

At one point in the second half, Tommy Heinsohn exclaimed, in reference to Rondo, "Give that man a baton!" Heinsohn was invoking a common metaphor for a player taking control of a basketball game: a conductor overseeing his orchestra. The implication is that he was controlling the game.

And it's apt, for Rondo certainly had this game in his control. At a different point in the game, Heinsohn observed of the other Celtics, "They can't wait to get the ball to Rondo." And it's true. Every time a Celtic pulled down a defensive rebound, he turned in the direction of the high-pitched voice chirping his initials -- "KG! KG!" "PP! PP!" -- and fired an outlet pass. But I don't think saying that Rondo "controlled" this game does it justice.

See, there are a lot of guys who "control" games, in the sense of taking them over and determining their outcome. You give them the ball, they score, you win. Paul Pierce has been known to control games in this manner, often in the fourth quarter. Kobe Bryant controls games like this. So does LeBron James. Dwyane Wade, too.

The thing is, though, that when these guys take over or control a basketball game, the game's flow stops and revolves around them. Take Pierce, for example. When Pierce is on, the script for Boston's possessions is predictable: Rondo brings the the ball upcourt while Pierce battles for position with his back to the basket on the perimeter. Rondo loops a pass from an odd angle, high and short, and Pierce uses his position to go get it. Once he grabs it, he turns and faces, and the rest of the Celtics just kind of stand around in the corners of the court, giving Pierce the room he needs to operate. From there, it's a foregone conclusion that Pierce is going to look for his shot. The only remaining question is how: A drive to the bucket for a layup? An abruptly aborted drive that ends with his signature 15-foot pull-up jumper? A shot fake designed to get his defender in the air, so he can lean in and draw the foul?

Don't get me wrong -- when Pierce or Kobe or LeBron are "in the zone," it's a treat to watch. It's electrifying to see a guy scoring at will. But there's something about it that doesn't fit with the game of basketball.

Basketball -- the ultimate team sport, with all ten players on the court in constant motion, responsible for playing both offense and defense -- doesn't quite feel like basketball when so many players are thus reduced to spectators. You're aware that you're watching something special, and you're enjoying it greatly, but there's a part of you that notices that the game has been stripped of some of its essential principles. It's missing its flow, its interplay -- the very characteristics that define it.

When Rondo plays like he did on Wednesday night against Indiana, it's different. The game doesn't bog down and center around him -- it flows from him. He's not controlling the game; he is the game. He finds his opening and gets going to the basket, and that triggers the natural movement of a basketball team. Suddenly, every one of his teammates seems to be in the right place, and it's up to Rondo to pick from a variety of attractive options, be it a pass to a teammate or a layup for himself.

There are surely point guards in the league today who possess better court vision and innate "feel" than Rondo. And Rondo's effectiveness is surely enhanced by the fact that he's surrounded by exceptionally talented, even by NBA standards, teammates. His supporting cast subsidizes his offensive limitations. Because the team doesn't need him to score, he's free to over-penetrate where his counterparts might pull up for a shot.

For these reasons, I'm not saying that by any reasonable standard, Rondo is better or more valuable than the truly great point guards in the league right now, the Steve Nashes and Chris Pauls of the world. But he's my favorite point guard to watch, and not just because of the team name on the front of his jersey. I like him because when he's on, he improves the quality of the game. It's not that he makes others around him better; a lot of players do that. It's that his play tends to result in a purer form of basketball.