Who needs elbows anyway

I don't normally just talk about sports on their own.  In fact, I don't know if I ever have, but this deserves some recognition.

Rajon Rondo just returned to a game in which the Celtics had an 18 point lead after sustaining a dislocated elbow a few minutes earlier.

I'll give you a little time to comprehend that.

More time.

Still haven't fully understood the magnitude of that?  Me neither.

This is shades of Billingsley in the Astrodome in the Texas State Championship, shades of Mary Lou Retton, shades of Paul Pierce.  My goodness.  I went through a period of not loving the NBA, not trusting the NBA, not wanting to be a fan, but that has all just disappeared.  For me, the NBA just went back into the category of "Sports My Grandfather Would Be Proud Of" along with baseball, hockey, pre-concussion rules NFL, and boxing.

I have no reason to be proud of Rajon Rondo, the Boston Celtics, or the NBA, but the fact that David Stern isn't rigging anything anymore, The Lakers losing to the Mavs Kobe losing to Dirk, and the concept of somebody doing something as gutsy as this in GAME 3 OF THE SEMIFINALS is unreal.  Last summer, the Heat LeBron James did something that everybody knew was against every rule in the masculinity book.  He pulled the ol' I'm a testicleless pussy "if you can't beat 'em join 'em" card, and took his bitchass talents to South Beach.  It was the saddest thing to happen in professional sports since Cliff Lee started against CC Sabathia in the World Series.

Except it was the greatest thing too.

Nobody else wanted to be LeBron James.  You could feel loyalty exploding from players, from fans, from coaches, from Carmelo Anthony, from GMs, from Dan Gilbert.  Derrick Rose decided that he was going to be the best player in the NBA and he did it.  Paul Pierce called out James from the start of the season, and then everybody dropped the gloves.  Pretty soon LeBron is throwing elbows at his coach, everybody realizes that Chris Bosh is a fake, GMs started trading again, the Bulls win without a single supporting castmember for Rose while Boozer and Noah are out, Blake Griffin is so good that he gets Baron Davis to play well again for a while, and everybody pretty much decides to create the best NBA season in recent memory (ever?).

We had an awesome first round.  Chris Paul balled again, Tyler Hansbrough proved that he's not a slouch (for now), Shane Battier finally beat his old Texas rivals once he got out of Texas, and the Knicks got smoked when Karma-elo finally came around.  Now this?  Down 2-0, the Celtics not only pull ahead by 10 in the third, but then EXTEND THE LEAD when their point guard goes down with a nasty injury.

AND THEN HE COMES BACK IN.

I didn't see this live, only online, but in my head I've romanticized this to follow the script from Miracle where Herb Brooks chews out Jack O'Callahan for being injured, except this time Ronjo is the one chewing out the trainer.

Rondo: "What the hell is wrong with you?? Pop it back in!"
Rondo: "I said pop it back in!!"
Trainer: "But it's dislocated.  You can't play."
Rondo: "Yeah, I know.  My bones aren't in the joints.  You know what, back off, I'll do it myself.  I've got no time for quitters."
Doc Rivers: "Come on Rajon, nobody's quitting here."
Rondo: "You worry about coaching this series.  There's plenty there to keep you busy!"

Then he pops it back in and goes and checks himself in at the scorer's table.

If you're the Heat, how do you react to this.  Not only has a Rondoless Boston team just extended the lead on you by 8 points, but now he's coming back in?  With his adrenaline raging?  In front of the one of the top two fan bases in all of sports?  Would it be okay to just forfeit and hope that Game 4 went better?

I've heard theories (that I think I believe) that LeBron James would have stayed in Cleveland if he would have had a father figure in his life.  The father's role is generally to stress hard work, loyalty, perseverance, etc, while the mother has historically been the one who comes in and makes you feel better after pops bitches you out.  They're the "do what makes you feel best, don't worry about what you're expected or relied on to do" people.  (In general).  So when LeBron was frustrated in Cleveland (home of your first place Indians!), LeMama finished with Delonte, rolled out of bed, and told BronBron to go have fun and take the easy way out as long as it would make it happy!  Yay!

Before you hit me with the "what about the Big 3 in Boston?" argument, listen to this.  Allen and Garnet were in terrible situations where they weren't going to win titles anytime soon.  They were past their primes, trying to get one last shot in.  The Cavs had been close.  LeBron was without a doubt one of the top two players in the league, without a doubt most valuable, and Dan Gilbert was bringing in talent to try to get him a title.  LeBron James was in control.  All he needed to do was stick it out, but he didn't.

If you had to pick a group of five dudes that I wouldn't want to piss off, it would be Rajon Rondo (always looks like he's going to kill somebody, scrappy as hell), Paul Pierce (survived a knife fight), Shaq (big, produced a rap album, meaning that he's probably a thug), Kevin Garnett (does anybody know what's going on in his mind?), and Ray Allen (but only because of his dad Jake Shuttlesworth).  The Heat won those first two games in Miami, but then went into the Boston Garden, House of Legends, of Bird and Parish and McHale and Havlicek, of 17 Championships.  Then, they have to mess with a just-hurt-enough-where-he-can-play-but-it-hurts-like-hell-and-he's-out-for-blood Team Engine (similar to MJ's flu game).  Uh oh.

It was clearly set up by whoever is in charge that the Celtics, everybody's least favorite team to play, were given rival New York, led by Anthony, and then huge rival Miami, led by the world's biggest narcissist.

Blue-collar city vs Prima Donna city.  The Old Guard vs two and a half of the best players of the next generation.  Reigning champs of the East vs the challengers.  And Boston even spotted the Heatles two games and a 10 to 9 arm advantage.

Yes, I think it's fair to say that the NBA is as much fun as ever.