What we’re watching right now is the final decline of Paul Pierce. Pierce’s career has had ups and downs, the most recent up being last year’s playoffs, but I’m thinking that there will be no more ups after this. Only downs. One long down all the way to the bottom. Down down down. All the way to hell. Down even further. Down…to buck.
If your overtaxed brain can remember back all the way to the beginning of the season (so very, very long ago, another lifetime ago almost), you will recall Doc Rivers stating his intent for Wesley Johnson to start some games at SF and for Paul Pierce to start some games at SF, depending on the matchup. Knowing what we know now, that statement is funny in a really sad way. Two reasons: one, Wesley Johnson is not and will never be starter-quality in the NBA, and two, that was a very optimistic prediction of Pierce’s durability. The dude is 38 and he’s not like a Kurt Thomas type where he’s immortal. No, Pierce is absolutely mortal and he is proving it to us right now.
My mom once told me big boys don’t cry. That might have held true when I fell off my bike and skinned by elbow, but it surely can’t hold true now, can it? Because this liquid falling out of my eyes sure as heck ain’t 7-Up.