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.

Yet Another Playoff Ticket Payoff Attempt

I thought I should take one last stab at making it onto the Celtic's Dancers team. Originally I was trying to make the team so I could earn a few extra bucks to cover the cost of my playoff tickets. But now it's personal. I'm good enough, I just know it. Every team needs someone who's a little chubbier, a little more surprising than you'd expect(hellooo, Big Baby much? And I know I look great in all of these balcony shots but you'd be surprised that I sometimes use Photoshop. I'm just being honest. I don't want to deceive my fans.). So I donned my official Celtics-issued parachute and, during the last regular season game on Wednesday, April 16, 2008 (HAPPY BIRTHDAY BALCONY GUY!!) I took the plunge.

Everything was going pretty smoothly as I careened in and prepared to get right into their act.

This picture only LOOKS like I was trying to land on Donnie Wahlberg. If I really wanted to meet Donnie, I would have marched the gazillion flight of stairs (seriously, do you know how long it takes to get down there and back? And how you really need to be in shape just to sneak down to the court from WAY UP HERE?) and had Neil Diamond The Man introduce me. It's not like I don't WANT to meet Donnie Wahlberg. It's just that I'm not all ga-ga over celebrities. Which is sad, if you think about it. I'd be the perfect seat mate on a plane or at a Celtics game for any number of celebrities. I wouldn't bother you for autographs. I wouldn't want to take my picture with you. I wouldn't even name drop like I do with The Man. Really, you might get a cute moniker just like The Man but that's as far as it goes. I'm just so casual about these things. I have yet to mention the names of the men that I sat with when I sat in The Man's seat even though they are very well known. And I've not at all mentioned The Man Next To The Man who maybe, someday, will have an entire post devoted to him when I can come up with something to say about the Irish season ticket holder who sits on the floor at the Celtics games.


And While I'm rambling on, I should just point out that Donnie Wahlberg should in no way be confused with Donnie Marshall.










Anyway, after what will be forever known in my mind as The Wahlburg Incident, I got back on tack and was in for a perfect landing.







I only covered a few of the girls with my parachute and I was only slightly off in the formation. All in all I think it was pretty great that I even got out there in front of that crowd.



Now, seeing as I don't and won't drop names, I'd like to continue this tale and mention that A PLAYER made me really feel welcome during this whole parachuting incident. A PLAYER is, as it turns out, a huge fan of little 'ole me. He immediately ran onto the court to give me a hug. If you click on the photo you'd be surprised to see that it looks like he's about to punch me but no, he was just coming in for a hug. I swear.

And while you're looking at the picture take a look at those kids who get to sit Right. Next. To. The. Cs. Bench. And the jealous man sitting behind them. How do you score those tickets? Anyone?



Again, I digress. A PLAYER asked for MY autograph. It was so sweet. Then he went to toss me the ball to sign and his arm came off with the ball. I was trying to hide my mortification so I ran to get it for him. He was so nice about it and seemed only a little embarrassed when I turned around to hand him his arm.






A PLAYER would have gotten my vote for 6th Man if Rajon Rondo hadn't scored big on that already. Congratulations to Rondo who now owns one of the greatest M&M'S® bowls in the world.

Raising Money For the Celtics Playoffs

Balcony Guy and I bought our Balcony Seats because. No need to explain that. We love going to the games for many reasons and one of the best is that it's DATE NIGHT. Oh, love me some date night. We're pretty busy around the Balcony House and since becoming parents 3+ years ago we just don't get out often. So DATE NIGHT is wonderful.

Now we've got to think ahead to the Playoffs. DATE NIGHT is going to be a little different. See, the price of our Balcony Seats goes up so I've got some work to do.

I'm trying out for the Celtics Dancers. They've gotten so good that certainly they can teach me. Here's my try-out outfit.

Balcony Guy is all set to drive me to my audition.

After my audition amongst the dancers and Lucky (please note this picture was taken by Balcony Guy last year when I did the take-a-shot. The Dancers didn't wave their sparkly pom poms then. So really this is me superimposed on me.)...



...I was so beat, yet exhilarated, that we decided, "What the hell, we've got a sitter. Let's go out to dinner!" So Balcony Guy drove us out to a restaurant. I didn't have a change of clothes.

We settled in at the table.

The waiter was so nice.

I had a small glass of wine.

Balcony Guy upsized his fries.

Then we went home.

I'm still waiting to see if I got the gig so I can pay for my playoff tickets. Vote for Balcony Gal wherever you may have a chance to vote!

Celtics Playoff Tickets

I'm not even going to talk about the past three games. I'm going to hold my head up and look ahead. To the playoffs! I hadn't been thinking about them but then this came in the mail today (see picture over there on the left).

OH BOY! The adrenaline as I was tearing that big envelope open, I tell you, was flowing fast and furious. My heart was pounding. I was probably giggling. What a thrill! Then I saw the prices.

See, this is how it works for those of you dying to know. You buy your season tickets through the Celtics office. Oh, and in case you want to get yours for next season you can contact Ryan de La Bruere (don't try to pronounce it...just ask for Ryan) at 617-854-8014. Tell him Balcony Gal sent you and maybe he'll stop by my seat with a hot dog coupon. Really, those are good hot dogs.

So anyway, you buy your seats and then they are yours for the whole season. YOURS. It feels so good. Even if you only have half season tickets (like us) no one else can claim your seats. And when the playoffs role around, you get first dibs on YOUR seats. Mmm hmmm. We now have dibs on our seats. Will we take them? Will we commit? We're required to pay for the first two rounds up front then we can pay for the next two rounds probably the week after, or something like that.

I won't hold you in suspense: OF COURSE we'll take them. But man, is it a hit to the wallet or what?

Balcony Gal: Um, ouch. That's a lot of money.
Balcony Guy: Wow, that's totally reasonable.
Balcony Gal: Um, we're going to have to come up with that money.
Balcony Guy: No problem. You can take on a few extra projects. [because, you know, extra freelance projects fall from the sky whenever money is needed]
Balcony Gal: [because I don't want to give up the chance to see the playoffs] Of course I can!

Balcony Gal and Balcony Guy then dance around the kitchen. Probably giggling. The End.

Except it's not the end because now I need to find extra projects. Maybe I'll just audition for the Celtics Dancers? Of course, I'll have to get rid of the Pollard Hair. And maybe learn to dance. And I may offend that woman who thinks the dancers are pornesque. Damn. Stay tuned for the plan.

Editorial Comments

Here's one I had to pass along. The illustration in the Globe is priceless. This woman's commentary? It could also be priceless. It's in regards to the Celtics Dancers. Go read then come back and discuss...

I Am Not Scot Pollard

All of the pictures in this post were taken by me, Balcony Gal. I hope you like them. In case you didn't know, you can click on them to make them larger. It's very exciting.

I love my Balcony seats. I enjoy MOST of the people around me. Like the guys in front and the ones just to my left. There is a guy who sits in front of me who often comes with his pretty wife. This guy is really smiley and happy and loves that he's a Balcony Person. He even had these seats last season when, well, we all wondered why we had seats. I'd like you to meet Super Nice, Really Smiley Guy:


I enjoy the Celtics Dancers. I didn't enjoy them last season when their moves were rough and the only thing in sync was the music. Really, I wanted to like them but it was tough to watch. And then this season they broke through. They got it together. And it's fun to not only watch them but to listen to the men around me who are sitting with their men friends and talking about the girls. And constantly look at their pictures. Notice here is not just one guy looking but two. They weren't the only ones but I couldn't get everyone in the same shot.


When Rondo was poked in the eye with 1:57 left in the 4th by Fred "Pokey McPokster" Jones I thought he was going out. It looked like another of our good men was going down. But after Pierce knighted him Sir Rondo The Great Gaurd he rallied with blurry vision.


We got a pleasant surprise at this game. On the drive in, while stuck in the traffic (see previous post), we got a call from our friends . They scored tickets from work and wanted to see us. YIPPEE. We love these friends and don't get to see them often enough. When we finally made it to our seats we got to be THOSE people and called the friends on the horn and said "we're here." Then we waved like fools and pointed and waved some more. Then the guy friend popped over for a quick visit. It was a warm and fuzzy time.

And now the moment we've all been waiting for. This is where I talk about Scot Pollard. I like Pollard. He makes me laugh when he does those little TV skit thingies. And his hair makes me laugh, too.

I didn't have the white headband. All I could find was the black one I use when I wash my face. And I couldn't decide where best in the house to take the picture so I have at least 40 versions. Should I even admit that? This is not a proud moment for me but it was too good not to share. This is not a look I recommend.

I will not wear it on a plane. I will not wear it on a train. I will not wear it here or there. I will not wear it anywhere. No, Scot Pollard, I will not wear your hair.

The end.