May You Have Peace

It is with a heavy heart and teary eyes that I write about the beloved and fiery Helen Heinsohn's passing. The "red head from Needham" is Tommy's wife and soulmate. It is hard to imagine what that strong man is going through right now. The Balcony Family extends their thoughts and prayers to the Heinsohn family and also to those who have had the pleasure of knowing Helen.

People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad. ~Marcel Proust

Happy Birthday Kendrick Perkins

Today marks Perk's 24th year. In tribute, Balcony Guy is expressing his wishes while wearing one of his favorite t-shirts (PLEASE NOTE: you'll need to click on the photos to get the full view. I'm experimenting with photobucket. So far me no likey):


And I couldn't let the day go without adding my own HAPPY BIRTHDAY greeting. Unfortunately I'm still trying to get out of trouble for this October 31st debacle:


I was merely trying to get down to the court to give Perk an early birthday hug because I knew I wouldn't be in my seat tonight (have a blast, Suldog, and watch that voice!). It's not like I was stalking him or anything.

Well, I hope your day is fabulous and involves lots of cake, Kendrick. As you get older remember that some things never go out of style - Birthdays, Basketball, Banners and BEASTING.

Cheers (and a hug).

Balcony Quote of the Day

On a day when our nation is turning out to vote in record numbers and everything revolves around the election, the Balcony Family did their part, walking the dog to the polls and casting our votes.

Upon waking this morning I told the clan how excited I am about this day and about the changes our nation is about to undertake. Balcony Guy said he, too was very excited about the day.

"The Celtics play the Rockets tonight! Woohoo!" he said.

Balcony Baby looked at him with complete confusion and disbelief, "Noooo wayyyyy. The Celtics can't play basketball in the sky."

Baby, you may be wrong. I think these boys may be able to fly. But you are a dang cute 2 year-old.

Anybody Seen My Muse?

I don't know what's going on but I seem to have misplaced my ability to write blog posts. I'm sitting on some fun facts and pictures from the game on the 31st but I just can't seem to get it together. If you have any advice or something inspirational to share (the funnier the better b/c, let's face it, I'm motivated by humor) then I'd appreciate it.

For now I'll put up my picture of the best costume of the evening. Balcony Guy wanted to go to the game dressed as Brian Scalabrine but the timing was wrong (as in last minute) so I was thrilled to see that this guy did it up right. Here he is doing the Scal Slide and then the best Scal face I've seen outside of Scal himself. I give him the best costume for Halloween 2008 Award. 80 Balcony Points for that one, too.

And here he is with his friends who also did a great job of dressing up.

I hope the these guys come by and see their pictures. I did something I rarely do and introduced myself, "Hi, I'm Balcony Gal. Can I use your pictures on my blog?" They said I could but who knows if they will remember since they were two fisting and having a blast.

OK, off to look for inspiration. Anyone? Anyone?

**BIG SIGH**

Getting Creative

For the 2008-2009 Celtics season I'm going to get all of my creative juices for my blog from this company. If you know of a better one then fill me in.

THEY HAVE ARRIVED

The front cover

The back cover


The tickets


The gratuitous shot

Let the season begin.
(you can click on each photo to enlarge)

Back to the Court

Dear Balcony Fans,

Thank you so much for your wonderful emails making sure I was still alive. Yes, yes, I'm still alive. I almost forgot how to log into blogger but I did it and here I am. I opted to take the summer off from blogging because I didn't have much to say (stop laughing Mom, it's true). But now there is plenty to talk about, like the preseason game I was at on Sunday, chatting with The Man about the ticket books that had yet to arrive (and as of this posting they still aren't here) and so on.

But before I dedicate a post to that I'm going to address these emails. I'm thrilled that so many of you have remembered me and want to hear my opinion about the Celtics and that you took the time to write. I'm especially thrilled that there are people out there that I clearly annoy and they took the time to write too! Woohoo! Seriously, you must really secretly love me if you spent time asking where am I and what I'm doing and why haven't I bored you with my prose. Thank you. I love you too.

I've got the Celtics on the brain and will continue posting the real View From The Celtic's Balcony in the next day or so. I hope you're as amped up as I am about this season. Feel free to leave your comments in the comment section at any time. That's what it's there for.

Sincerely and with my hoop kicks laced up,
Balcony Gal

More Free Stuff! And Another Championship Game Installment (sort of)

There's a contest going on over at Perk Is A Beast blog. Manipulate a Perk photo into something fun and win a t-shirt. Who doesn't want a t-shirt, right? I just sent over my fairly lame attempt at a submission and it looks like this:


I'd love to come up with some more so keep checking over there to see if I have and to see what others are coming up with. There are some good ones (and some scary ones) in the mix.

I love that they are holding this contest. I held a contest once and no one submitted within the guidelines. I also didn't put a time frame on it so I may just let it run forever. And ever. And ever. Amen.

So, to sum it all up, head over here and try to win yourself a t-shirt. I have one and love it. This is what it looks like:


Yours will come with a neck and without the, um, warped Perk face. I'm proud to say I got this t-shirt, and one for Balcony Guy, straight from the guys of the Lair before the Celtics became the CHAMPIONS. And that, dear friend, is my encounter with the men behind The Beast.

2008 NBA CHAMPIONSHIP GAME, part 2.0

I haven't gotten to the part where the Celtics win the championship yet (hope I didn't spoil it for you) but I want to get this picture up. This is what happened when the reporters and crowd (at least the crowd that was allowed to - kudos to the people who were able to keep everything orderly) stormed the court at the final buzzer.

2008 NBA CHAMPIONSHIP GAME, part two

The crowd getting into the Garden was surprisingly straight forward. In games past, especially early in the playoffs, there was congestion and confusion and overall pain-in-the-assedness. Tuesday night felt like everyone knew where their seats were, where they where going and how much time they had to get there. OK, perhaps it helped that we were there earlier than we've ever been before. As the Cs entered the arena the cameras panned to the tunnel and as soon as we (the collective everyone-in-the-Garden we) realized they were hitting the court, we all stood up and clapped and screamed. The excitement of the night just got more intense from there. I don't think I sat down much throughout this game. I don't think many people did.



The opening ceremonies had Paula Cole singing the national anthem. I happen to be a Paula Cole fan. Perhaps because I'm a chick? Perhaps because I love the way her albums are recorded? If I could have been there during the taping of Harbinger to see what microphones were used and...oh, sorry, I digress.

Anyway, Paula has an amazing voice. And her connection to Boston made it a good, though surprising choice. While she was singing, the jumbotron had images of Doc and his platoon and, with each face flashed up on that, there was louder and louder cheering. EVEN FOR DOC who, let's face it, has had a lot of naysayers over the past couple of seasons. And through this Paula sang on. Then there were shots of Phil and his platoon and the booing was immense. IMMENSE. I understood the competitive feelings and the emotion running through the crowd but it's the national anthem people. I just wanted to climb under my Balcony Seat because I was so embarrassed. Poor Paula, singing her heart out and getting booed. She couldn't see the jumbotron, she had no idea. But she finished strong and the crowd went insane.

I guess my point here is that I know it's the championship game but SHUT UP AND STAND THERE AND BE ALL SOLEMN FOR A MINUTE. Just saying.

For some reason I have loved watching them take down those two huge replica trophies and wheel them out. Where do those go, do you think? Do they have to get on a plane? Do they reside in a basement somewhere? Perhaps Wyc gets to keep them as lawn art? Perhaps the two best Celtics bloggers get to each own one? Perhaps the other bloggers won't let me in on it because this blog isn't the most serious of serious blogs. I know, you thought it was, dear readers reader, but it's not.



I'm chatting with the guy next to me, Thor*, and Balcony Guy asks, "Who really wears white pants?" because, you know, his idea of fashion is changing the 'reduce, reuse, recycle' pin on his overalls to his pin that says 'your village called and they want their idiot back."

*(some names have been changed to protect the innocent but not Thor's because that name is too good to be true)

As I click a few pics in the general direction of the white pants in question, seated at the left end of the Laker's bench, one of our Balcony Pals (I told Claudia I'd keep her very low profile in this blog) comes over and points out that Steven Tyler is here. Fun. He's the guy wearing the white pants and, perhaps because of the pants, you could tell it was him from WAY UP HERE. I'm sure those of you sitting at home got to see his mug several times on TV but those of us who were there at the game only saw it a couple of times on the jumbotron and not nearly in such the grainy way as these pics portray.


I have some idea of what happened to the Lakers that made them seem as if they weren't all there. This picture says it all. Mihm stood there, in that spot with his hands on his hips, for at least a full minute watching the Celtics Dancers. WTF? This photo (which you can click on to make it larger) is full of interesting vignettes. It's kind of like the back of the cereal box that someone else has already filled in for you. See if you can find: the men in the same row with their hands over their mouths, the woman with the would-be impressive drinking glass except it looks like it holds less liquid than the cup the man behind her is holding and two men picking their noses. That is, picking their own noses, not each others. If you find anything else exciting in there then let me know.



And then there was the couple that fell asleep. Not just one of them but both of them. Oh my, I can't even begin to imagine how much each minute of that nap was costing them. But the moment for the rest of us, as it was flashed on the jumbotron, was priceless.



Well, I'm due for another nap so I'll have to stop here. Stay tuned for Part Three in which I discuss threes, ghosts in the Garden, faded floors, sore pecs and I finally get to the part about The Beast's Buddies.

2008 NBA CHAMPIONSHIP GAME, part one

OK then, because I don't know where to start I'll just start at the beginning. There will be many photos and many parts. All photos, as usual, have been taken by me. If you find yourself disappointed in the quality of the photo, never fear. I will be getting a better quality lens for my beautiful camera as soon as I raise the funds. But that's a different story.

I'm here to tell you about the Balcony View for GAME SIX of the 2008 NBA Finals. The Final Game of the Finals. The game that made grown men (and women *raises hand*) cry.

Balcony Guy and I had to strangely enough rent a car to get to the game. Our beloved Flower (as named by Balcony Gal) decided to have issues the night before and we weren't risking anything. We settled in our babysitter, Balcony Memere, with the girls and hit the road at 5:30. Early for a 9PM game but, again, we weren't risking anything.

On the Mass Pike (where I had once before discovered something odd) we got stuck in traffic. And by stuck I mean stopped. A truck pulls up next to us and it is filled with guys and perhaps one gal all wearing green, on their way into Boston to party. I look over and they look at me so I give them the thumbs up. So the guy in the back pops his Cs jersey at me and I laugh and then flash them. Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. I flashed them my tickets. Jaws drop. Screaming ensues. Money is flashed. LOTS AND LOTS OF MONEY. I could have grabbed the money, tossed them the tickets and Balcony Guy and I could have been in Jamaica by sundown. You can click on the image to get a larger view and try to count all of the money.



Instead I flashed the picture and quickly rolled up the window and locked the door because apparently I was carrying the holy grail.


Once in Boston and almost at our parking spot we were held up again but not by traffic this time (there was surprisingly little traffic in the city at 6:30). Cops on motorcycles cut us off on Charles St as they escorted the Laker's bus to their ultimate loss. Not an exciting picture but a thrilling moment.









Everywhere you turn downtown there are photos of the the Cs players and playoff banners. I've taken a lot of these shots since the playoffs began but this is my favorite.





After meeting our Balcony Pals at Porter's for some food and drink we headed to our seats. Outside of the bar two strangers shook hands and posed for this picture. Then trashed talked each other until the Laker's guy ran down Portland street screaming and with his pants down around his ankles. I don't know why, it just happened.

The Garden was electric. People couldn't sit down. Everywhere you turned someone was yelling or clapping or high-fiving (note to self - don't high five strangers unless you want your hand to fall off).

I'm afraid that's all I've got for right now. It's time for a nap. I'm betting it will be a good nap. Did anyone else, after finally going to bed last night, sleep soundly for the first time in months? This roller coaster of emotions and sleeplessness was like having a newborn. I'm glad to say my baby is finally sleeping through the night after winning the best-baby-ever contest.

Stay tuned for part two. There will be talk of my meeting the Beast's Lair (though not the Beast himself), men in white pants, the Celtics Dancers and much more.

The Eve of Game Six or Why I'm Going To Puke

Physically I can't take it anymore. And I'm not the only one. I can't imagine how the Celtics players are feeling but I do know how a number of fans are feeling. The phone calls, the emails, the shout outs at the grocery store; everyone's stomachs are in knots. The adrenaline is pumping, then freezes up, then pumps again. I've never seen so many men who appear to have PMS every two to three days.

In the six years since my dad passed away I've never wanted him to be around more than right now. Not to watch him struggle with these emotions and the anxiety (even though it would be hilarious because, well, that's just the type of people we are) but because he would be just as thrilled, just as overwhelmed, just as ecstatic as those of us who are here and feel it through and through.

And since I mentioned Father's Day I'll say happy belated to all of you dads and, of course, to Balcony Guy who deserves so much more than some downloaded songs about bicycles and cupcakes decorated by a three year old and clearly licked by the two year old and that new tape measure I can't find but know I bought. It's a good one, honey, really.

Oh, I just remembered, we've got tickets to GAME SIX.

Every time I remember I have tickets to GAME SIX, every time I realize I'll be sitting in my Balcony Seat, my stomach flops in that good way. That way that reminds me of when I realized I was going to marry Balcony Guy and have children named Marley (a girl) and Bo (Diddly, naturally a boy) and George (another girl, you know, from Nancy Drew) and Emerson (sex up in the air but it's the college where we met). Of course we had children named Balcony Princess and Balcony Baby instead.

It reminds me of the way I felt when I got my first big client and again when that client came back (to complain and get their money back but whatever).

It reminds me of how I felt on my due date for Balcony Princess, and the 8 consecutive days after that until she showed up. And again for Balcony Baby on her due date and the 5 days after that until she showed up. Oh, and the feelings of anger and deceit and let-downedness (so a word) toward the doctors who said the kids would be here on a certain day but then they weren't. They were still stuck inside of me and I looked like I was smuggling the whole basketball team and not just a ball. Then they were here and life was sweet again.

All of those ups and downs and ups and downs are making me thrive and shortening my life. They make me want to puke.

I'm so excited that the Celtics will be home for GAME SIX. I'm sure this will be the last one. Really, doesn't it have to be? Why keep the Lakers fans thinking they have a chance? In Boston we don't beat around the bush, we tell it like it is, so we'll stop playing games with LA. And, perhaps most importantly, NO ONE CAN TAKE IT ANYMORE. Every fan, every almost fan, every everyone wants the Celtics to bring it home, get that trophy and allow us all to put this in our memories as the best series ever.

I can't tell you the number of people I've heard say (and seen it written in emails and blogs) that a game seven will kill them. It's true.

I'm thrilled to be a part of this. I'm thrilled to have these seats, to have lucked out and made my dream of being a fan, one who holds tickets in her sweaty little hands night after night and watches every other game she's not at on TV and who's children actually bleed green like I did as a kid in the 80s (thanks Dad!), a reality. I'm thrilled to have made new green friends (not the kind who recycle though I'm sure they all do) in the people who sit around me and share drinks and food at Porters before games and in the people who trade emails with me regarding this passion that is the Celtics (like The Man and his daughters, other Celtics blog writers who I really think should help get us our own duck boat for the parade and numerous responders to this here blog). I'm just thrilled.

So, before I go on and on I'm just going to say that I think the Celtics will win this tomorrow. I think that they will bring a championship to Boston. I think there will be dancing in the street tomorrow night and Balcony Guy and I will be there. I've had goose bumps through all of this typing and all of the things I've wanted to say are just running away from me so I'll sign off now.

Oh, wait, I knew I'd remember! The plane that was to carry the Celtics home got delayed. Big issues, blah, blah blah, google it. Anyway, I imagine that our heroes have sat around all day getting sweatier, eventually boarding the rescue plane, trying to maintain their cool. By the time they touch down in Boston, only to separate and go to their own homes and families, they'll be old school smelly, like riding the bus with the boy's hoops team back from a game in high school and they'll be closer some how. They'll have talked through the disappointment of being stuck. They'll have coaxed each other along to not be angry, to just go with the flow, to be as one and bring on the good karma.

I say good night now. Sweet dreams and GO CELTICS.

Oh What A Night

Balcony Princess asked me why I keep smiling when I'm not looking at anything.

Balcony Baby keeps randomly yelling LET'S GO CELTICS and making other people smile. (I dared to bring them out in public today)

Balcony Guy had to wake me in the 4th quarter moments after I had fallen asleep due to this new phenomenon called Not Being Able To Keep Your Eyes Open. His, "They're going to do it, they're going to win, they're winning, THEY WON" was not at all conducive to a nap. Gleefully so.

Balcony Friends and Family, who just yesterday were saying, "What happened to your team?" have been calling and emailing and congratulating me. Me. Like I had anything to do with it *blushes*.

The internet is all abuzz and atwitter and a lot of other things with this historic game. Really, let's just call it historic. We Celtics fans felt this win in our bones. You can browse YouTube and find Cs fans cheering and LA fans crying (seriously, they taped themselves and put that crap up there). And let's just save myself a little time and point you over to Red's Army and Boston Sportz (a most fantastic video clip) where the links abound.

We have tickets to Game 6. I would love, love, love to see the Cs come home and win the finals. After everything I've done to slut myself out for my playoff tickets (as evidenced here and here and here and here) it would be the icing on the cake. But you know, I'm going to be 100% ok with the Cs just blowing up in LA and winning the title during game 5. This way the parade will be that much sweeter. Come on Boys, end this thing and come home to open arms and duck boats. Hey, does anyone know if we Celtics bloggers get our own duck boat? Just wondering...

I Can Get the Little Ball In the Big Hole and I Mention David Stern

BALCONY GAL WARNING: This post contains elements that are somewhat, and often highly, embarrassing to me.

I've kept this post in reserve because 1) I didn't want to show how lame I am since my readers reader thinks I'm somewhat cool and 2) I didn't want to have to point out to the pros in the NBA how they should be shooting, and thinking about shooting, those precious baskets that win games. But after last night's Game Three of the 2008 NBA Finals I felt the time had come for me to do a little schooling.

I grew up playing basketball in a relatively competitive town. Our teams were good at just about everything. So when I finally had the privilege of playing in high school (I'm sure I made the team simply because I only puked once during the tryout drills and said puke actually made it into one of four designated buckets at the corners of the court AND only my left leg gave out during the extended wall squats AND my dad, at some point, weighed 367 lbs when he went to go sign his pro wrestling papers - Gorilla Bo Joe - and was super athletic and the whole town had some kind of fear AND I didn't know how to shut up so I was always yelling encouraging things, even to those girls who didn't make it to the buckets *inhale breath* AND I showed promise under the boards but I'll take it away from this extended sidebar now and get back on topic) I also had the, um, oh, um, privilege of having a tough coach. Well, he wasn't exactly my coach because I was on the freshman squad and he was the varsity coach but he was one of those guys who watched us all, all the time. Well this coach didn't like my free throws. Nope, not one bit. To tell the truth, I didn't either b/c I never made any. Really. I could box out, get rebounds, throw the ball back up court or, offensively, put the ball back up and in and draw the foul. But I could never make my free throws.

As my free throws got worse, my jumpers got worse. My morale, confidence and desire were hitting the skids. Until the day that coach grabbed a hoop and told me to wear it while running lap after lap and proclaiming loudly, "I CAN GET THE LITTLE BALL IN THE BIG HOLE."

So I ran those laps. Day after day after day*. Always with a smile and always in a loud voice. Here I am at 14 years old running my laps:



There have been several games over the season, particularly during the playoffs and again last night during Game Three, where I had flashbacks to these laps around the court. I'm not saying this particular tactic would work in the NBA and, just to prove that I still had it in me, I ran the neighborhood this morning with the 'ole hoop around my waist. This being nearly *gulp* 20 years later, however, and seeing as I'm carrying around my Playoff Pounds (come on now, I can't be the only one with added playoff poundage happening), I was able to run with my hands in the air and the hoop nestled on my hips.

It got me psyched up to play a little ball on my return so I shot around then went for some dunks. I'm glad to say I still have it in me.

My hang time is still so great that I have time to turn and smile at the camera.

Oh, sorry. I digress. My whole point here is that there is a severe mental factor to basketball. Our boys KG and Pierce have to not let last night's horror show of shots haunt them. Instead, they have to remember that they can indeed get the little ball in the big hole and bring it home.

In other Balcony Gal NBA news, I decided to sneak up on David Stern to ask him a few questions about this reffing thing and what he feels about the fact that anyone who loves the NBA thinks it's time for him to go. His response was pure David Stern:

I'm sure I'm not the only lover of hoops who wanted to gather the neighborhood kids, hand them a bunch of random things like apples and paint brushes and eggs and crayons and toy phones and frogs to throw them at Stern:

I'm just saying my two Balcony Cents and thinking out loud that the NBA needs a new leader. I'm available but I'll need a little help and I'm pretty biased. If you're interested in starting a petition to get Stern out and a new person in, because, you know, these sorts of things really work, really, trust me, add your comments in the comment section. Even if you sign in anonymously it could help things along.

Meanwhile, GO CELTICS!


*Just for this particular season. Then I developed such a disslike of that coach and his tactics and a complete insecurity that I never wanted to be on his team so I turned to other extra curricular activities. Until college when I got gleefully back in the game. But that's a story for another time.

Thank God It's Tuesday

Tuesday is finally here. My special watch, modeled here by Balcony Guy, tells me so. If you squint you can see a blow up of the trophy the Celtics are playing for in game three tonight.

Once again I find myself with butterflies in my stomach. And I get strangely giddy when I think of 9:00 PM. And my heart rate speeds up. And then, when I go to skip down the hall or up the driveway I curse the NBA. Since the Celtics have (thankfully) been in the playoffs since April I have successfully gained 10 pounds. That's not comforting now that it's 500 degrees and I'm trying to squeeze into the kiddie pool. Playoff Pounds. Not fun.

The past few months have been glorious. Watching the Celtics keep us all on our toes has required that I either cook some fantastic meal or, if we are going to the game, we eat a fantastic meal in Boston. And there are the drinks. I alternate between a crisp Chardonnay from France (sorry California, it's the playoffs and I need to boycott right now) or a Delsina - tequila, grand marnier, ginger ale and lime. Mmmm. Just thinking about the food and drinks on tap for tonight are making me drool. Remember back when the season started and I was doing a sit up for every point scored by the Cs? Then I upped it to every point scored during a game? Yeah, I barely remember that, too.









I'm sure you've already gotten out your foam fingers in prep for tonight and donned your best Celtics gear, be it bar-swag inspired, like this gal who's sporting beads, earrings and beer googles, or homemade, like this man who cobbled together a bunch of old playoff towels and other goods, slapped on a boa and called a cape. He's been sporting this look for a couple of seasons now. And the best part? It molts.


You can always bring out your 80's jacket with it's vintage Lucky image and parkay sleeves.











This look on the right is not one I recommend, though. The Michael Jackson mask is very out of place in Boston. Even if you sporting a shamrock top hat.
Whatever you choose to wear (or not to wear because it is hot after all) and whatever you choose to eat and drink (head over to Perk Is A Beast. Those boys have shocked me. They used to be just about Beasting but now they are throwing around wine pairings and menus. I totally have a crush on the Beast Lair.) I hope you're as excited as we are in the Balcony Family.

GO CELTICS.

I Love Paul Pierce

My last post was about why. This is just all about the picture I took during game one of the 2008 NBA finals. Perhaps one of my favorite Balcony Gal photos of the 2007-2008 season. The smoke (the lame version of the fire works which are no longer allowed) filling the air, Paul's scream that echoed through the crowd as they screamed as well and the goose bump inducing feeling of the lights being out and the Garden being full and the crowd being amped and Paul leading the way. Lead the way, Paul. Lead the way.

Game One, Won

I have almost 600 photos from last night's game. I promise I won't share them all but over the next couple of days I'll share many. Many. Not much to say about the game since it's being said everywhere else. Oh, wait, I just want to publicly declare my love for Paul Pierce. Not because he was carried off the court and came charging back in moments later. I'm in love with him because he has been a rock. For 9 years I wondered why he was here. And now, this 10th year, I'm so proud of him for sticking it out, holding his own admirably and in the most romantic of gentlemanly ways. He's never needed to boast, never acted like he deserves special attention and he has always spoken to the Celtics fans from his heart. I've never loved seeing his smile more than I have in the past week. It's like the sun shines. Sigh. Smile on, Paul, smile on.

NAP IF YOU CAN, otherwise entitled The 2008 NBA Finals

I give everyone permission to take a nap today. It does not matter when you choose to snooze as long as it's not after 9 o'clock tonight. It's going to be a long and exciting evening as the Celtics face off against the Lakers for game one of the 2008 NBA Finals. I'm so excited that I'm just going to apologize right now to the guys who sit behind me; I'm sure I'll spend a lot of the evening jumping up and down and my butt will barely touch my Balcony Seat. It's not often we ladies get a chance to strap on the sports bra just to be spectators!

When tomorrow morning rolls around and my two Balcony Girls toddle (yes, that's what toddlers do) in at the crack of too-early-in-the-morning to wake me up, I'm sure I'm going to need a big dose of this:


Coffee came out of my nose this morning when I saw this editorial cartoon by David Hitch in the Worcester Telegram and Gazette. David's cartoons are often funny but this one is a total 3 pointer at the buzzer. Someone tell me that they will be handing out coupons for these special NBA pills at the Garden tonight.

GO CELTICS!

BEST FRIDAY NIGHT EVER, Part Two

Friday night was rough. The world's worst foul call was made. The score went up and down and up and down and I'll be the first to say that up and down makes for a rough time. I'd tell you all about it but by now you'll have already seen it or read about it or heard about it. There really isn't much for me to say except WOOOO FRRRRRIIIIGGGINNNNN WHHHOOOOO.

Here's the Balcony Gal Pictorial:

We had a little party to watch the game. I gathered all of the special party glasses but the green glasses were a favorite.

I hired this great bartender. He showed up wearing a cape which was interesting, to say the least, but I was thrilled to discover he could mix a drink behind his back with his sword. Impressive.

My BFF was a hit at this party. I knew she'd never show up to watch hoops so I told her we'd be having a red carpet, private showing of the Sex and the City movie. She got all dressed up and prepped. I'm sure I'll pay for that little lie at some point but there is no denying she had a great time. There she is on the left next to Balcony Guy's BFF, then Balcony Guy and Me.

My BFF invited this pair, too, so they were a little over-dressed but they really enjoyed themselves. Turns out he loves tequila, too. Apparently she'd had an unfortunate accident with a dog about six months ago and wasn't really drinking. I interpreted that to mean she wasn't double fisting like I was.

One of the guys from the clean up crew came in toward the end of the game and cleaned out all of the red glasses since DeeTroit was no longer in the running.

Then the cleaning guy came back in with a bunch of yellow glasses. I didn't mind since a little rivalry is always good.

The bartender thought differently. He was all, "Beat LA!" and he poked the guy in the third eye with his sword.

My neighbor stopped in and was all, "Dude. Go LA!! Kobe is so going to make you wish you weren't even born." We made him a drink in a yellow glass.

I'm looking forward to the next few weeks. I'm excited to see the Celtics and LA go at it under the boards. Game One of the finals will find me sitting in my Balcony Seat with Balcony Guy. Think they'll let us sneak in our green glasses? Hopefully I'll have pictures to share next time. Meanwhile, GO CELTICS!

BEST FRIDAY NIGHT EVER

Dust off my Balcony Seat because I'll be sitting there for the FINALS, BABY. Congrats to my boys in green. I'm crying over here.

The Excitement

Is anyone else as anxious and excited about tonight's game as I am. I mean really damn excited with butterflies in your stomach and that dreaded time-is-standing-still-and-8:30-can't-get-here-soon-enough feeling? I haven't been this excited about hoops in many years. LET'S GO CELTICS!

Tickets, Coupon Codes and Let's Hit The Road

It has come to my attention that season tickets are still available for the 2008-2009 season. Corner Balcony Seats can be had for what I'm betting is a great deal. They are high up in the Balcony but at least you're still in the Garden, right? Contact Ryan de La Bruere (don't try to pronounce it...just ask for Ryan) at 617-854-8014.

It's not too late to get some great Celtics gear. Until June 30th you can use the promo code LUCKY33 at shopceltics.com. That gets you 15% off. This is one of those discounts for season ticket holders but I know I won't take advantage of it so I'm spreading the love. If I was going to buy another t-shirt I'd do so at the Red's Army Store because they've got some fun gear over there.

There's a give away going on over at Suldog's place that may interest you.

And I've still got this old photo of KG to give away. Remember the rules simply state your answer has to mention basketball.

Now on to the game.

There was no escaping the crowd last night. It was glorious. From the moment you entered into the Garden until you stepped into the street at the end of the game, the crowd was wild. The chanting while waiting for the doors to open (at 8...omg, what was up with that? The crowd was getting antsy.), the chanting in the crowd as the people filtered through security and the ticket lines, the De-Fense cheer, which was perhaps the loudest and certainly didn't disappoint. The fire and energy in a crowd like that really carries you along.

One of the escalators was busted. The long, long ones that take you up to the Balcony. I'm sure it was tough for some people but, like I just said, the chanting carries you along. And I can turn on the inner athlete when it comes to some things. Like rescuing a kid who walks into the street, or trying to get to my seat before tip off, or outrunning someone to get to the last bottle of tequila on the shelf. The key is knowing when to use it. Pick your battles and all that.

The Celtics Dancers were in top form last night. And they had tops that lit up. I know, you're thinking "Shut up! No way!" but I'm here to tell you, way. They were really cool. Balcony Guy said the lights should be strategically placed elsewhere but he was being such a guy.

Halftime had the longest line for a game of Knockout. And there were two Pistons shirts in the line. Every time those guys went to shoot, Lucky and his band of Merry Men blocked shots and kicked the ball out of the way or passed it over their heads. It was hilarious. Perhaps the best half time entertainment in months.

Hey, The Man, I waved at you a few times but you couldn't see me from way up here. Same goes with Scott. Balcony Guy and I waved in your general direction. Of course you have no idea what I look like (these pics in this blog do not do me justice *cough, cough*) and I don't know what you look like but thought if you saw someone waving, you'd know it's me.

The Man Next to The Man, aka, The Other Man barely sat in his seat. He often jumps up and down and makes sure that the refs and the opposing team know his thoughts. I love that! But after last night, there is no way he can have a voice today. And does he act like that at home in front of the television? I'm just curious.


Now on to the pictorial.

I didn't bring my camera to the game last night because I wanted to just enjoy the game. I was glad for the decision because it freed up my hands for constant clapping. Since I had to do some voice recording last night this morning at some point today, I couldn't afford to lose my voice. (If any of my clients are reading this, I wouldn't be opposed to a nice little bonus for taking care of myself. Or a trophy. Or a certificate even. I'll settle for mint, ok? Damn hard bargainers.)

It was the hardest night of basketball EVER for me. In all honesty and seriousness and on-my-honor. I'm a loud gal. I love to scream and yell and make my voice heard. Last night I wasn't able to do that. But I clapped. OH! MY! GAWD! did I clap. So much so that my hands are still ringing. My arms are too damn sore to hold up my hands for a long period of time so this post is taking me forever. I wanted to just pop off my arms for awhile to get a break. But that's not always practical.



When we got home after midnight last night Balcony Guy kindly got out the Boo Boo Buddy Basketball and helped me to ice down my sore mitts. And my thighs. Because I got the best workout just from jumping up and down over and over and over again. I must have done the equivalent of eight cajillion trillion squats.

Then he made me a great big drink with a bendy straw so I wouldn't have to hold the glass.

Then we kind of went a little overboard on the late night snack.

And I decided a nice bath would be a great way to wind up the evening. I reflected on the Celtics and their fire.



I reflected on the dipwads who call into the radio shows after games and give their drunken opinions on how the Celtics are just like the Patriots. Which lead to me realizing that Tom Brady was at the game last night but he left early. Early. This is the first night I've seen the crowd really stick it out and he makes like a fan who wants to get out of the parking garage ahead of everyone else.


This morning my arms are tired still but my palms are no longer sore. While I don't like it, I'm ok with last night's loss because I think the Cs can get over the win-at-home stereotype which then leads to getting over the lose-on-the-road stereotype. And while I think the Pistons will get a big morale boost out of this win, they can't compete with the force that is the Boston Celtics. OK, they can compete but they can't win. I like to have these positive thoughts when I sit in my garden early in the morning.