I'm not going to spend a ton of time analyzing Game 6, because I feel that from a Boston perspective -- and solely from a Boston perspective -- Kendrick Perkins' knee injury midway through the first quarter turned the game into a throwaway. Up until that point, and yeah, it was just six minutes, Boston had been playing more or less exactly the way I had hoped they would. The Celtics were running, Rajon Rondo was attacking, Ray Allen was off to a hot start. The defense wasn't nearly as sharp as it had been in Boston and Paul Pierce hadn't gotten gotten anything going, but I liked our offensive mindset. The score was 18-12 when Perkins went down, and there was nothing that suggested that this wouldn't be what almost everyone had to have expected it was going to be going in: a hard-fought battle that could go either way. There was certainly nothing to suggest that the Celtics would manage just 55 points in the final 40 minutes or so.
But Perk's injury happened, and from there, things really changed. Not from an X-and-O standpoint -- or, at least, not most significantly from an X-and-O standpoint. Our edge was gone, along with our energy and focus.
I thought, or perhaps I hoped, that it would be a temporary hiccup, that once we got to the end of the quarter, the longer break would give us a chance to regroup. Searching for silver linings, I thought maybe it would give us something to rally around -- you know, "Let's win it for Perk" type stuff. I thought that if we could keep it to a manageable deficit going into halftime, something like ten or 12 points, that would give Doc and Thibodeau time to scheme around not having the big fella. But it was not to be. LA was rolling, smelled blood, and we were shell-shocked. The lead was 20 at the half, and these things tend to snowball, and any chance of an improbable comeback went out the window when we came out missing layups to start the third. We executed offensively for a stretch, a stretch that coincided with the cable temporarily going out in my apartment, but we couldn't get stops and didn't get calls and we never threatened.
I don't blame our guys for this. While I would have hoped for a different reaction, it's hard to fault guys for losing their focus a bit when their teammate went down. These Celtics are a true team the way few NBA clubs are. Perk and Rondo are best friends. The vets see Perkins as a young -- he's still just 25 -- hard-working kid whose willingness to do the dirty work without receiving the credit is as important as his superb on-ball post defense and tireless rebounding. This wasn't "oh shit, how we gonna win this without Perk?" This was a bunch of guys who let their concern for their teammate affect their play, and it may have cost them a game.
I know how this looks, so let me be very clear: The words "Boston would have won if Perk hadn't gotten hurt" have not come out of my mouth or from my keyboard, and they won't even if things don't break our way in Game 7. The Lakers played very well tonight, and if there's one thing this series has taught us, it's that when both teams are clicking, very little, if anything, separates them. My reason for writing all of this is to explain why I'm not panicking about 67 points, about shooting 33 percent from the field, about being out-rebounded 52-39, about getting nothing from the bench until the game was well out of hand. Boston's performance was an anomaly caused by unforeseen circumstance. There's a big difference between knowing going into a game that someone won't play, and losing a player once a game has started. I'd have a different perspective had there not been such a stark contrast between our play pre-injury and our play post-injury.
That's not to say I'm not worried; I am. Beating LA was a tough enough task at full strength; we're still awaiting word on whether Perk will be available for Game 7, but the injury looked bad, he said he heard something pop, and even if he can go, he'll be limited. Rebounding has been key in the series -- the team that has won the battle on the glass has won each of the six games -- and LA had a big size advantage coming into the series. An absent or limited Perkins also effectively removes one body from our bench, which means we're that much closer to Shelden Williams playing meaningful minutes, a necessary experiment that was beyond disastrous this evening.
Moreover, the Lakers came alive on Tuesday. They seemed to be coming apart a bit after Game 5, outworked and outplayed, fractured, with little belief in themselves and even less in one another. I thought Game 6 was our best chance to take one of the final two games. Not a must-win situation, but I figured an LA win in Game 6 would give them some momentum heading into Game 7, and they'd be tougher to beat with that momentum behind them. That changed when Perk went down; I like our chances when we have two days to plan for not having him better than our chances when we lose him in the first quarter and have to adjust on the fly. But for the first time since Game 3, the Lakers are more than just Kobe Bryant -- and the Lakers, when hitting on most cylinders, are a most formidable opponent.
All to play for on Thursday night.
Get well, Perk.
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