Swinging fire in Aso, Japan

There are just some things in Japan you cannot get anywhere else, and those are the times when you simply have to stand back, shake your head, smile, and remind yourself, “I am in Japan.”  What more can I say?

Ben said we would be going to the Fire Festival in Aso.  Several weekends ago, we saw, from a distance, two Japanese Kanji characters burned into the side of two mountains.  I thought that would be involved somehow with this.  I also figured some fireworks would be involved, and Ben informed us that on Saturday night, 2,000 fireworks would be set off in his town.  And someone said something about some rings of fire and people in them.  Other than those concepts, I went into this Fire Festival with not a lot of expectation, simply assuming that, like other Japanese cultural events, I would stand with my friends, listening to someone or a group of people lead some ceremony with some significance that I could neither understand nor grasp. 

Like many of my assumptions made prior to attending several Japanese events so far that made those assumptions look ridiculous, the Fire Festival turned out to be one of the most incredible cultural experiences I have had here, although it will have to share that status with waterfall-jumping and meteor-gazing.  Most events and ceremonies I have attended here have been, for the most part, spectator events, with parade-type atmospheres, and big crowds watching performances on stage.  The Fire Festival, despite being the most dangerous celebration yet, was also the most participatory. 

Aso is the town around Volcano Aso, the active volcano about an hour North of Kumamoto City.  The whole point is to gather at the Aso Shrine and welcome the fire goddesses so as to bring good health and good fortune for the coming year.  My friends and I parked and approached the streets around the shrine to see hundreds, if not several thousand, people gathered and watching the gravel walkways and areas bordering the shrine.  Suddenly, the faces of the crowd, the houses nearby and the stones of the walls lining the shrine glistened with the reflection of dozens of levitating fireballs. 

The crowd seemed to be lining the streets and watching a procession of people swinging ropes connected to flaming shapes roughly the size of basketballs.  We skipped along the outside of the gathering, found a gap, and stepped through for a better look.  The crowd was not watching a procession or a parade of any kind.  The people weren’t moving, they were standing in one spot, swinging ropes at the end of which featuring fire devouring bundles of hay strapped together.  Members of the fire department and event organizers kept bringing armloads of hay bundles, all ready tied together, for people to grab a hold of, make sure that both ends of the bundle caught fire, and then take the rope and swing in circles until the orange, red, and yellow got to the rope and sent the charred remnants of hay flying.  How do I know this?  EVERYONE GOT TO SWING FIRE!!!!!!!

This evening was one of those times that are so surreal, you almost feel bad you won’t be able to thoroughly communicate the atmosphere with people that weren’t there.  For several city blocks, the night’s darkness was illuniated by endless glowing dots following an orbit around their swinger, which also made for a “Wayne’s World” effect of blurry vision; the people down the street looked like they were in a groggy dream or flashback.  You found yourself fascinated but choking, mesmerized yet terrified.  I wanted to pick up a bundle and join in, but hey, there’s a Japanese grandmother about five feet from me that was swinging a four-foot long rope that could singe my eyebrows, and if I avoid here, her two grandkids are just beyond that stumbling around with BURNING BUNCHES ON A STRING!!!  Then, logically, not only do you have to watch airborne globes coming at your face and upper body, you have to watch where you step, because, like my friend Treve, your Adidas shoes could become permanently scarred by the smoldering remains on the ground.

Basically, to sum the night up, my friends and I were in the streets of this town, swinging flaming bundles of hay around our heads, coughing on the smoke and blinking away tears, avoiding serious burn injury, celebrating the fire goddess’ provision of good health and fortune, laughing at the fact that Japanese people of all ages were peacefully engaging in this highly dangerous activity together, and knowing that this could never EVER happen in our hometown.  This is why I am here, and this is why I am happy.

Let's Enjoy

The Alchemist Perspective will be mainly for posting the travel journals I have "emailed big" to family and friends along the way since the beginning of major adventures about years ago. Along with a storage space for words, numerous lovely readers have requested a source for images as well. For that, please go to
http://flickr.com/photos/jfinger23
Stay tuned for the greatest, uplifting, free-time-worthy material ever created, and please share this site with whoever you like. As we say in Japan, let's enjoy. . .

Touching the Hand of Basketball Jesus--the whole story

UPDATE: This story (a link to it, anyway) was posted on a national NBA site, Truehoop, on ESPN.com. Check it out here. Thank you, Henry Abbott!

Yes, this is long. So take a few minutes and soak it in. Share it with your Dad.

Throughout history, kids have struggled with the question of what present to get for Dad, the man who has everything. Too often, whether the answer ends up being cologne, socks, or neckties, few presents ever leave their mark. With Christmas 2008 approaching, a simple idea for a present evolved into an incredibly unique experience that my Dad will never forget.

My idea for Dad, a lifelong basketball junkie, was to find a date in December or January when we could make the manageable, four-hour, NBA road trip from St. Louis to either Memphis, Tennessee for a Grizzlies game, or head north to Indianapolis, Indiana, to watch the Pacers in action. The opponent was not important, as long as the game was not on a Friday or Saturday night that would conflict with any St. Louis parties needing me to DJ. The idea was for Dad and me to have a fun time together, take a short trip and watch some basketball that we do not have access to in St. Louis.

The first indication that I was on to something good came when I checked the NBA schedule. On Sunday evening, December 7th, the Pacers would be hosting none other than the 17-time, reigning World Champion, not to mention my Dad’s favorite, Boston Celtics! Coincidentally, Dad’s favorite player ever is Larry Bird, the “Basketball Jesus,” now serving as president of the Indiana Pacers. So, let’s review: Dad’s favorite team, with his favorite player in the same building, and we only would have to take Monday off. It was a no-brainer. I threw it out to my two sisters and brother Mark, but only my brother ended up able to do it, making it a very appealing road trip for the Fingerhut boys.

Here’s where things got exciting. Mark and I, with Dad’s input, decided to splurge a little and get lower level seats facing the team benches. Once I secured three tickets, the next idea was hatched. Why not try to take this experience to the next level? I had read a book recently that talked about how meeting celebrities was easier than people thought, and I knew that once I set a clear objective to achieve, all I had to was ask. So, what was the objective? I pictured My Dad meeting Larry Bird. Nothing could top that! Then I worked my way backward, pondering what would be the most effective way to arrange this.

Over Thanksgiving weekend, I let the idea round into form, and went into attack mode the week leading up to the game. Neither the Pacers’ nor Celtics’ web site offered much opportunity for communication; most avenues led to ticket sales. On Monday, I rooted around and sent this email to a general email address for the Pacers:

To Whom It May Concern:
You probably see this type of letter all the time, so I will understand if I get a response along the lines of a courteous apology. Even so, I have a question that I hope someone can forward to the right people.

My brother and I are taking my Dad to a Pacers game for his Christmas present. We have tickets to this Sunday's game against the Boston Celtics at 6 p.m. That scenario in itself, is not so unique, except this will not be a piece of cake for us. My Dad and Mom raised four of us kids in St. Louis, MO. Besides the "religion" of Cardinal baseball that we were baptised into as fans, Dad, a lifelong St. Louisan as well as lifelong NBA fan, raised us on Celtics basketball.

In the glorious '80s, Dad would sing the praises of Larry Bird and point out all the intricacies of the great Celtics teams and the Big Three. His love of Red Auerbach and all things 'Celtic-green' fueled his passion for coaching us in basketball and pushing all of us to strive for our best, always, like Red, Larry, and the Celtics. When Larry Bird came to the Pacers, first as coach, then as president, the Pacers became our 'second team' behind the Celtics, and we happily cheered on Reggie Miller, Chris Mullin, Jermaine O'Neal, and everyone else over the years. Even as my brother and I lived in Japan teaching English for a few years, including the rough experience of Dad's heart attack, we could always connect talking NBA basketball, and the Pacers and Celtics always had lots to talk about.

Last year, as the Celtics made their big run to the title, my brother and I re-connected with Dad in a big way. While Larry and the Pacers were unfortunately not involved in the playoffs, the three of us watched most of the Celtics' playoff games together in the same room, with Dad making the effort of staying up for the end of the games--because we were there, and the Celtics were back.

We have been to a few NBA games in our lives, both in Indianapolis and Memphis, but they could be counted on one hand. Dad's getting older, and I don't know how many more times we'll be able to give him a present like this. The timing could not be better, with the Celtics coming to Larry Bird's organization, with the Celtics defending their championship, and the Pacers fielding a promising young team. All three of us are extremely excited about coming up to Conseco Fieldhouse this weekend. We are planning to get there early to watch players warming up, although it seems the earliest we can enter is 5 p.m. for the 6 p.m. game.

My question is, since Sunday will not be the second game of a back-to-back, is there a chance at all that we could have one second of Mr. Bird's time, just to say hello and give a handshake? Like I said, I am sure you all get this request a lot, and I have no doubt Mr. Bird will be busy on game day. But I wanted to ask, as a fan and as the son of a HUGE fan. My brother and I have saved up, and are splurging on club seats, to get my Dad as close as possible to the action. He does not know I am sending this, and I would love to surprise him.

Once again, I don't know who this goes to, but could you forward it on to the right person or people? Please don't hesitate to contact me at any time. Thank you, and either way, I hope this Pacers' season is a successful one!!!

Sincerely,
Joe A. Fingerhut

As you can see, I put a lot of time and thought into what exactly to include in here, keeping it concise but laying everything out. Key ideas: St. Louis fans, coming a long way, Dad’s a fan, Larry’s old team, throwing in the heart attack issue, brothers saving up and splurging, with a healthy amount of courtesy focusing on making it convenient for them.

Nothing came of this letter. On Wednesday, I got back on the Pacers site, and somehow saw a fax number I had not seen before. I hand-wrote a one-page letter, hitting most of the points above, but also including a sentence including, “(my Dad) has some heart problems, and may not get an opportunity like this again.” Not a lie, technically, just boosting the urgency.

Nothing came of this fax, either. While I was somewhat let down, nothing could change the fact that the three of us were in for a fun road trip, a nice NBA matchup, and a great experience regardless.

Then, Friday morning, two days before the game, right around 10:30 a.m., my cell phone rang. While I did not recognize this out-of-state number, I thought little of it and picked it up. Here’s how the conversation went between me and . . .

Me: Hello, this is Joe.
Voice: Hi Joe, this is Larry Bird of the Indiana Pacers.
Me: (Silence--breathless, out of breath, unable to speak, not thinking. . .)
Voice: Hello?
Me: YES! I am here, hi! Are you serious?
Voice: Yeah, this is Larry Bird. I understand you and your Dad are coming to the game this Sunday.
Me: (stuttering, desparately trying not to sound ridiculous) Yes, that’s right, we’re looking forward to it.
LARRY FREAKING BIRD: Is your Dad around?
Me: No he’s at work, this is my phone. Do you want his number?
LFB: Yeah, does it start with 314?
Me: 314-***-****, he works for the United States Postal Service.
LFB: Okay. I’m going to the airport Sunday and won’t get there until game time, but if you can get down to me, I’d be happy to meet you.
Me: Thank you, thanks for calling, see you Sunday.

I talked to this man on the phone. Then he called my Dad.

I did a little triumphant freak-out, decided against calling my Dad to warn him for fear of any phone line gaffes, then ran upstairs to tell my wife. “Guess who just called? LARRY BIRD!!!”

My wife Michiyo, born in Japan and delightfully indifferent to most things sports-related, meekly responded, “Who?”

I had explained the situation earlier, and I told her, “Papa Joe’s favorite player called,” and she was excited for me and us. I called my siblings, but no one picked up. So I waited, eagerly.

Five minutes later, my phone rang again.

Me: Hello, this is Joe.
Voice: (No words, just a gasp, and the sound of someone about to laugh)
Me: Hi Dad. Did you like that?
Me & Papa Joe: (laughing like giddy school girls that just saw Justin Timberlake’s new video.)

Dad and I spent the next few minutes of the United States Postal Service’s time going over every syllable of the last 10 minutes of our lives. Dad was convinced it was a trick, but “didn’t say anything funny,” then when he got a chance, asked, “Is this real?” Larry Freaking Bird said, “Oh yeah, this is Larry Bird.” Dad described himself as “in la-la land” after that, but got himself together enough to get Larry to say meet him around halftime or after the game.

To say the least, Dad was pleasantly surprised and shocked. He could not believe his work phone had rung, with Larry Bird on the other end. Then he could not believe that I had used the reason of “heart problems” to goad a professional basketball organization into action. Dad said he could not wait to tell the guys at lunch, said goodbye, and then I had a similar conversation with my brother Mark, complete with cackling and giddiness, only on a different company’s time.

Over the next two days, we told EVERYONE who would listen all about what happened. We had plenty of family and friends intrigued with how it would turn out. Lots of people were on board, and then, a co-worker of my Dad’s called us on the car ride up to Indy on Sunday, letting us know that, unbelievably, that day, December 7th, was the 52nd birthday of one Larry Joe Bird. We had all ready spent much of the ride speculating and joking about what would happen later on, ranging from a police escort out of the city, to sharing drinks at a downtown club after the game on Larry’s dime. News that it was his birthday kicked these possibilities up several notches, and took our conversations in even more imaginative directions. The four-hour drive flew by.

We checked in to our room exactly one block from Conseco Fieldhouse (Mark did all Fingerhuts everywhere proud by scoring a Hampton Inn with FREE breakfast), grabbed a quick sandwich and headed to the arena.

With about 20 minutes to tip-off, we simply sat down and took in the atmosphere—not quite electric, but buzzing, with the reigning champs warming up and fans steadily filling up the seats.

Mark and Dad

I made it a point to just focus on Ray Allen, watching him practice the give-and-go with Rajon Rondo, and appreciating his picture-perfect jumper in the house that Reggie Miller built.

My Dad and Me

12/7/08: Indiana Pacers versus NBA Champion Boston Celtics

Celtics Starting Lineup introduced

After a lights-out, fired up introduction of the starting lineups, the game began, and to our thorough delight, both teams came out firing. The Pacers were playing their fourth game in five days, and while the middle two games had been disappointing, blowout losses, they had taken the mighty Lakers to overtime in the first game, winning with a desperate, one-handed tip-in at the buzzer from Troy Murphy. On this Sunday night against the Celtics, they were in fighting mode. The defending champions had won 11 games in a row, and showed no signs of complacency. The first quarter ended with a buzzer-beater from Celtics benchwarmer and Irish super-hero Brian Scalabrine, and the second quarter ended not with a Ray Allen three with four seconds left, but with a HALF-COURT Three from the Pacers’ Marquis Daniels as time expired.

Throughout the first half, we watched Larry Legend like a hawk. Dad pointed out that sitting among the fans was a habit made famous by the Celtics patriarch Red Auerbach. As a front office man, Larry has always taken a corner seat near the visitor bench. With binoculars, we observed that a complete team security team insulated Mr. Bird from any nagging fans; one older gentleman guarded the aisle seat of Larry’s two-seat row, while four or five men firmly hovered on the floor a few feet below the railing separating him from the players’ tunnel. He was accessible to fans, however: during every timeout, fans could and would line up to hand their hero a ticket stub for him to sign. Larry would reach down with his left hand, pick up the ticket, sign with his left hand, and hand it back—no discernible interaction, or for that matter, enjoyment.

At first, I was disappointed, wondering how would we communicate with Larry Bird that we were the very Fingerhuts with whom he had shared a phone conversation two days ago? Then again, if we got down there for an autograph, we could blend in because everyone was doing the same thing. A plan began to take shape, albeit one with several chances, and relying a lot on fast talking. After two Olympic performers came out for the halftime show and wowed the crowd with a wicked trampoline routine that went from double flips and skis to snowboards triple flips, I said, “Let’s roll.”

The three of us headed down the steps, but I hung back to practice our dilemma with on a nearby usher who surely could do nothing for us. Sure enough, he kind of shrugged and told me to ask someone down closer. Once we got as close as we could, about 30 feet from Larry but without access to the lowest section, I turned to Phil, a nearby usher featuring the Conseco Fieldhouse standard uniform of a white, pinstriped shirt under a green jacket, topped off with a green bowtie.

“Phil,” I said, “What are the chances of getting down to talk to Larry Bird?”

“Let me see your ticket,” he said, glancing at the numbers, and stating, “None.”

“Phil,” I said, “This is my Dad, we’re from St. Louis, and this game is his Christmas present. I wrote a letter to the Pacers this week, and Larry Bird called us on the phone Friday, and told us to come say hi. Can you help us out?”

Phil the usher’s face told us we were crazy, but like a good, fellow Midwestern wage-earner, he didn’t tell us to get lost, instead telling us we MIGHT have a shot if we went to Guest Services. So we trekked around the corner to the ‘Guest Relations’ window, where a man and a woman sat, fortunately with not many people around to help.

I caught the woman’s eye, and she asked, “Can I help you?”

I went into the spiel. “This is my Dad, tonight is his Christmas present. I wrote a letter to the Pacers this week, and Larry Bird called him—“

And then our night was made. The woman interrupted me with, “Oh, you’re the St. Lou-ee-zians.”

Taken aback momentarily, I said, “Well, St. Lou-isans,” correcting her, but quickly continuing, “you’ve heard about us? What’s your name?”

“BJ,” she told us. “I’m the one who got your letter.”

Great Scott, Marty!!! This was heavy, Doc!!!

This is BJ!

She said to wait a moment, and walked away, talking on a walkie-talkie. She told us she would see if Larry was down there, and if we could go.

For about five minutes or so, we talked with the other staff member sitting there, a 6’4” man named Rob Eaton. He and Dad talked about the old days of the NBA and ABA, St. Louis Spirits, and all the players they knew and liked. We had made a friend.

BJ and Rob--what a team!

Rob then got a call, directed us upstairs, then ran after us and called us back. He brought us back down, where we met BJ, who was smiling. She walked us down the concourse, then abruptly turned and said, “Wait, does everybody have to go?”

Slightly dejected, but grateful for this chance nonetheless, I pointed to Dad and told her he was the most important one, and it did not matter if we missed out. Later on, Dad would say that the face he made told her that he was going to pass if his sons were not included. I think BJ saw this, and pleasantly aid, “All right, follow me.”

We walked down the steps of the lower bowl, right down to the basket supports, and hung a left, walking between the front row folks and the cameramen and cheerleaders (I think, everything was a blur at this point). The second half had started, but the game was the last thing on our minds at this point. I was inconspicuously fumbling a little with my camera, wanting to catch whatever I could without making a scene or looking too much like some foreign tourist. I put it on video mode, hit record, and looked straight ahead.

Led by BJ, we approached the security detail, just as a timeout was finishing up. We were now on the other side of the railing and inches away from NBA deity. I heard BJ say to go stand against the wall, and started toward the players’ tunnel. Then she called out to me, I turned around, and there was Dad, reaching up to shake the hand—the right hand, the shooting hand, the hand responsible for so many great memories of countless fans, and the hand that none of the other autograph seekers and fans were privy to—of his basketball hero.

Larry was smiling politely, looking Dad right in the eye, and said, “Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming.”

He reached for Mark’s hand, shook it, and then extended his hand to me.

“Thank you so much,” I said. “And Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you,” Larry Bird said, and turned his attention to the game.

Unfortunately, this video is the closest I came to documenting the epic meeting with Larry Bird. Notice at the very last second, the blinding lights appear exactly where Larry's head should be. Coincidence? I think not.

We looked at BJ, exchanged a mutual nod, and began the walk back upstairs. Our immediate reactions were delayed, because we started talking with BJ, a wonderful woman who ended up taking us on an impromptu, 20-minute walk around Conseco Fieldhouse. This walk was by no means a special VIP tour or anything, but she hit some high points, like taking us to the best view of the new football stadium down the street, then to a vacant, reservation-only party room featuring 10,000 basketball cards on the wall. Knowing that I probably missed my only photo opportunity of the actual man, I found the nicest, framed picture of Larry Bird among these cards and took a picture—that would have to do.

As it turned out, BJ knew nothing about the fax, but said that she had forwarded the actual email to Larry himself, and he took it upon himself to call us. We thanked BJ sincerely, and returned to our seats with about a minute left in the third quarter. At that point, we weren’t exactly in the clouds after our very brief interaction, but all three of us were suitably satisfied, knowing that our experience had been elevated exponentially, and that we had just had a meeting with greatness. I told Dad that I had gotten exactly what I asked for, a handshake and a hello. I pondered, “Imagine if I had asked for drinks and game of HORSE!”

Our mission accomplished on the Larry Bird objective, we settled back into our seats to concentrate on the excellent contest unfolding before us. The plucky young Pacers put in a bucket to end the third quarter up three, 81-78. The final twelve minutes saw the lead go back and forth, complete with crucial missed free throws (Kendrick Perkins), solid clutch passing and defense (Jarrett Jack), and sizzling 3-point shooting from both teams. At one point, Marquis Daniels on the Pacers and Ray Allen on the Celtics were both hovering around the 25-point mark, going back and forth.

As the final minute ticked away, the Celtics needed three points to tie. Because they were losing, we ended up bonding with the Celtics fan behind us and cheering on Boston—at this point, we were cheering not for either team, but simply for the game to go to overtime. Eddie House, the Celtics headband-sporting super-sub, missed a three pointer from the corner with under ten seconds left, but the ball ended up in the hands of the Truth. With at least one Pacer player right in his face, Paul Pierce lofted a beauty of a shot that hung for several seconds, then dropped through the net with a SPLOOSH! Tie game, 105-all, Pacers missed their final shot, and we went to overtime.

105-105 score at the end of regulation after a Paul Pierce trey.

Ray Allen took over in overtime, boosting his season-high point total to 35 on a stellar 7-12 shooting. The Celtics left with a 122-117 victory and a 12-game win streak.

122-117 Celtics over Pacers, final score after Ray Allen owning overtime.

Dad's wish: rub T.J. Ford's head in front of Roy Hibbert

Now we were in the clouds, our every wish granted for this day. We mulled about the Fieldhouse a little while longer, snapping a few great pictures, including Dad in front of a gift shop display of Larry’s Boston and High School basketball jerseys next to Reggie Miller’s Pacers jersey. I grabbed a nearby photo (the same one framed in the room upstairs) of Larry, and a Pacers basketball; this photo could be the quintessential photo of the trip for Dad.

Our minds full and our stomachs empty, we went to a nearby establishment for food and surprisingly cheap draft beers. The orange-themed restaurant known for wings and big scenery provided the perfect place to catch some highlights of the day’s football games and reflect on all the little details of the last four hours. Around midnight, after a full day of memories, we hit the sack.

One final note of little consequence: During the night, Indianapolis was hit with some seriously bitter winter weather. The black ice that formed on the surrounding highways made our ride home an adventure, where we passed or were stuck in traffic because of no less than nine separate crashed vehicles, including three overturned SUVs and three zig-zagged tractor trailers. We passed the time by listening to a Bill Walton interview from last year about the Celtics, playing catch with a football on the highway’s grass median beside morning gridlock, and rehashing all the good stuff many times over.

Merry Christmas, Papa Joe, and thank you for all of our memories, basketball and otherwise!

Summer Powerisers

One thing I experienced this summer, at long last, was learning to walk, run, jump, and bounce using one of the greatest inventions ever: Powerisers!

These Powerisers are not mine; they belong to my friend Josh, who graciously allows me to use them. Let me know what you think!

NBA Finals, Game 6 Running Diary

While I cannot claim to be a die-hard Boston Celtics fan, I can claim to have a deep appreciation for the team, as my Dad’s love for Larry Bird and all things Celtics growing up influenced me to root against the Lakers, and despise the Pistons. Then Michael Jordan entered the universe, and my allegiance to the Bulls was secured forever. Or so I thought. Upon his multiple retirements, it seems that my allegiance was to MJ. As an NBA fan, I have loved the regular season and playoffs every year since the last Bulls Championship in 1998. However, this year, with the resurgence of the Celtics, I have found another team that I care about. Of course, the fact that my Dad and I can enthusiastically follow them makes this team even more likable. That, coupled with the fact that I picked the Celtics in my first NBA playoff pool back in April. With all that being said, I have been a big fan of ESPN.com’s Bill Simmons, aka The Sports Guy. Every once in a while, he will post a running diary for a sporting event. My brother Mark once did this for a St. Louis University basketball game, and I had always wanted to try it. Tuesday, June 17th, was the perfect night. So without further ado, let’s enjoy Game 6 of the 2008 NBA Finals. Celtics-Lakers. Where Running Diaries Happen.

We’re coming to you live from the Fingerhut Fenton Mansion.

What was a promising evening of male bonding with my brother and Dad has turned into a solo endeavor, with Mark’s softball game starting around halftime and Dad scouting SLU tickets at the new arena. Dad will be back for the second half, and Mark may show up for crunch time, but until then, here I am! I have hijacked Dad’s laptop, and will do a Sports-guy-style running diary for what could be the biggest Game 6 of my life since Michael Jordan struck a pose in Utah ten years ago.

Wired:
Phil Jackson: “Do you want to be here right?” You can actually hear players say, “Yeah.” For some reason, that seems odd to hear. C’mon, Phil, you’re better than that.

Doc Rivers: “Strength is in our numbers.” I thought the strength of the wolf was in the pack. Oh yeah, this is the Celtics locker room, not Phil Jackson’s halftime segment.

11:57: Lakers win tip, the crowd is all ready chanting defense. Kendrick Perkins, with some serious bandages on his left shoulder from his Game 4 dislocation, opens the game with a foul.

11:39 Uh oh, Kobe with a long swoosh—I mean, swish.

11:17 Wow, Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen with bad misses on one possession. But Rondo looks great.

10:24 Rondo with a steal, out to Ray Ray for a BUCKET!!! Good to see Ray getting going early, and Rondo looks possessed.

10:01 Jeff Van Gundy: “Rondo is driving to pass.” 9:42 After 2 free throws, the score is Jesus Shuttlesworth 5, Lakers 4.

9:28 Kobe with a pretty three.

9:13 KG is doing his wimpy little tip pass/rebound thing. Like Anthony Bonner once said at a Mr. Maurer St. Louis University High School Basketball Camp, “Just get the DAMN BALL!”

9:03 Oh dear. Kobe with a long three, nothing but net.

8:41 Paul Pierce with a weak pump fake, then jumps into his defender. The refs pass on blowing the whistle, thankfully. That was practically European.

8:21 KG “calling for the ball,” gets it and is fouled by Lamar Odom. I just was reminded that LO went to Rhode Island years ago. Great uniforms. And God Shammgod played there.

Ray with another free throw. , C’s down 10-8.

7:52 KG butts Gasol to the floor, gets an easy lay-in.

7:01 Funny sequence, Perkins gifts wraps a pass to Kobe, and to beat the shot clock or draw a foul, he heaves it like a girl and ALMOST MAKES IT.

6:35 Rough play, people are flying all over the place, looks like the refs are letting them play.

5:58 Rondo, dared to shoot--twine from the corner.

5:28 Kobe are you kidding me? (These words spoken simultaneously by me and Van Gundy) The Mamba fakes Ray Ray, steps aside and beats the shot clock for a 3. Kobe looks good.

5:25 First commercial break, Kobe has 11, and REM is singing “I Am Superman.” Old song, but apropos at this moment.

Commercials and other thoughts:

“I Survived a Japanese Game Show? Please.

Bill Belichick in the house, along with Stephen Tyler’s lips.

4:49 Boston 3-15 shooting so far, while Kobe is hot. Not too good, but it’s early.

4:28 Ray with a strong lay-up, but is poked in the eye, and may have to fly back to Boston for a family matter. Sorry, that was mean. And here comes the slo-mo HD replay! Lamar with a finger into Ray Allen’s Hypothalamus, that’s gotta hurt.

And the split screen, Pip-like tunnel cam. C’mon, he’s not in wheelchair, is this necessary?

4:20 Tied up at 14 all.

4:06 KG with an aggressive, backing down, post up on Kobe, Bring it, KG!

3:51 Luke Walton, smelling colors and getting his 3rd and 4th points of the finals. I think.

3:31 PJ Brown comes in, makes Luke go to the line to earn his 5th and 6th points.

3:15 KG: Bucket from about 18 ft, looking good.

2:59 Oh yeah, James Posey came in at some point, watch out.

2:47 KG with a strong turnaround, falls away on Gasol, rattles home a basket for 8 points in the first quarter. I see an usher in the distance put up both hands. How great would it be to be in Boston tonight?

Commercials and other thoughts:

Questions, as this Lincoln spot has some nice sound effects: Can’t some car company play off a DaLorean theme, you know, with Back to the Future music, going 88 mph to outrun Libyans in a VW van? Is Christopher Lloyd too busy these days to make a cameo?

KG’s pregame locker room meal: PBJ sandwiches. Sign me up!!!

Mike Breen: “The secret is out.”

Van Gundy: “He’ll change his name from the Big Ticket to the Big Loaf.” Okay. Hope he doesn’t get pinched.

Mark Jackson: “You been sitting on that one, haven’t you?”

2:04 Pierce, misses a 3, is 0-5. Pick it up, Truth.

1:44 PJ Brown with an ALLEY-OOP to Garnett!!! Great success! He was so open, I love it.

:48.8 Rondo goes for his 4th steal, but fouls Farmar as Kobe is denied more points in this quarter.

:36.7 Pierce drives, pulls up, and gets on the board with a pretty J.

:22 Thank you Kobe, for missing that 25 footer from just inside half court—looked good. Leon Powe is in the game.

:1.8 Pierce gets me excited by crossing Walton over, but Luke fouls him because they have a foul to give, like he wasn’t trying to play defense.

1.8 Eddie House darting around, Leon Powe gets it, and takes too long on his lay-up; it comes after the buzzer. KG, with 10 pts and 3 rebounds, leads Boston to a 24-20 lead at the break. NBC treats us again to another view of Odom showing Ray Allen exactly how Lasix eye surgery is done.

Baby trading stocks. Okay, great, I’m just not impressed. What, Bruce Willis wasn’t available for “Look Who’s Talking 5?”

Commercials and other thoughts:

Another car commercial idea as the Michelin man enjoys his Michelin dog: a Ghostbusters theme! You know, some Prius hybrid defeating the marshmallow man? Can someone revive Rick Moranis

NBA Commercial with Kevin Durant. Shouldn’t that Sonics jersey be pulled off to reveal an OKC jersey? NBA. Where franchises leaving happens.

Michelle Tafoya interviews Phil Jackson for about 37 seconds. In the words of my brother MF, “Ground Breaking Stuff.”

And the 2nd Quarter begins, Lakers debut Ronny Turiaf and Sasha Vujacic, aka the Agitator, or as Dad cynically says, “Chitch.” In case anyone didn’t hear, the Sports Guy hilariously observed that Sasha looks like he could be the lost villain from John Lithgow’s crew in “Cliffhanger.” I love that.

11:17 Kobe goes mano y mano with Posey, puts up a fantastic fall away against Posey’s fantastic defense., and barely misses.

AND HERE COMES BIG BABY! The crowd comes alive. He’s making his debut in the Finals.

11:02 Kobe is fouled by Powe on the perimeter, and Posey shoves Kobe after the whistle. Van Gundy has been talking about this habit for a few games now; it’s fun to watch out for.

10:49 Chitch for a long 2.10:35 Eddie House comes alive, instant offense, with a long 2.

Mark Jackson: “Great offensive guys say, “Ay, I can get mine at any time.” I think foreign guys say that a lot when they’re visiting Asian countries.

10:13 Lamar Odom at the line, and Belichick, in the direct line of camera sight, Spygates him into missing a free throw. Who is the blonde? I bet if I followed Boston sports closer, I would know it was his new floozy after divorcing his wife or something. Who cares?

9:57 Doc gets T’d up, and looks like he wants to go Ron Artest on the ref.

9:49 Pierce fires a long 3 for a 5-pt lead, 29-24.

9:30 I don’t think Powe’s expression ever changes. He’s like the Nicolas Cage of the finals, only Powe’s expression isn’t one of “I am perpetually feeling vexed.”

9:12 Chitch with some full court pressure. As annoying and ugly as he is, no one can deny that he is a tenacious defender.

8:48 Leon Powe must be so strong; he twists his way to a lay-up.

Both benches are playing heavily, the Celtics are all over the place. Kobe is missing.

Commercials and other thoughts:

If you aren’t’ watching regularly, you can really get with this Denali guy who works the players’ parking lot. If you have watched all the games, he’s annoying. So is this couch-surfing geek. Hey coolie, get a job (just kidding, that’s my inner Dennis Miller talking. I am jealous of this cat, except I would do it internationally).

Love Guru. Are you KIDDING ME? Mike Myers been gone so long, and he comes back with this? I’d rather see a “Wipeout” spot for the 89th time and cringe/laugh for the 89th time as some slob goes hurtling into the mud.

Tropic Thunder. Robert Downey Junior? That looks like Don Cheadle!

We’re back, and Ray Ray is STILL out. Not good.
8:08 Gasol, Fisher, Kobe, Turiaf, and Chitch for LA. Pierce, Posey, Big Baby, Powe, and House for Boston.

John Havlicek is shown sitting next to some blonde. Everybody’s got one.
7:54 Bill Russell is shown as Celtics called for illegal defense. No blondes for him.

I love Turiaf’s hair. Maybe it’s because he went to Gonzaga, maybe it’s the absence of a headband, but unlike a lot of times when cornrows are involved, he doesn’t come off as thuggish.

We had Chris Mihm come in the other night. Can’t we get a Scalabrine minute?

7:13 Posey with a man-size rebound after about 5 non-calls on rebounds, then BURIES a 3-pointer from deep in the corner.

6:41 Pose deflects a pass from Chitch, down court to KG under the basket, out to House in the same corner Posey just owned, and the ball finds bottom. Lakers call timeout, “sleaze” dancers enter the floor, and Red Auerbach considers lighting his cigar somewhere.
Commercials and other thoughts:

Hey Denali guy, Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Then again, NEVER. LET. UP.

NBA: Fear. The dream could die. Win. Great spot.

Followed by this guy getting nailed by a car. What is the plot of this 70s show, and why couldn’t Ashton Kutcher ever get hit like that?

Wired: Aw, Scalabrine’s in a suit. At this point, our best bet to see him is in Game 7 if the Celtics lose and Ray Ray is out with an eye.

Boston up 38-29 with 6:20 to play, Kobe is woefully short on his shot and good vibes.

Michele Tafoya says an eye doctor has come in, and “is taking longer than an eye shot should.”

BUT WAIT, here comes RAY!!!, and Eddie House’s son gives him a high five.

Eddie House and Derek fisher in a foot race, Eddie casually pushes him into a camera, Boston’s ball to the crowd’s delight.

5:53 foul on Fisher, here’s yet another look at Ray Ray’s head swerving into the path of an oncoming finger from Lamar Odom. Breen: “His eye still looks a little red.” I couldn’t tell.

5:33 Pierce steals from Kobe, comes down and dumps it to Pose, who sends a 3-pointer bucket-ward, swishing through for a commanding 43-29 lead. Not just yet Red, but soon!

4:33 Gasol over big Baby for a hook shot, lead down to 10.

4:07 Pierce drives, baseline pass to Garnett outside, nothing but net. 7 assists for PP, and KG is on.

3:56 Vlad Rad with a shot that thuds on the rim.

3:48 Vlad Rad with an “inexplicable” foul on Pierce for his third, to go with 0-1 shooting. Enjoy the bench, big guy. Pierce 2 Free Throws and 8 pts.

3:37 Celtics with ANOTHER illegal defense call, up 14, and Tom Thibodeau is up and scowling. I think he’s mad he didn’t get the Bulls job; John Paxson couldn’t wait till the end of the playoffs and opted to go with Vinny “Of the Black” Del Negro. Well, Vinny’s hair is more interesting.

3:04 I sense something brewing between Odom and Garnett, they have been swiping each other up and down the court. I am probably wrong, but this could be fun to watch develop.

Commercials and other thoughts:

Nice appearance of the LeBron jury commercial, which offsets this stupid Denali guy.

NBA lead-in with Pierce French kissing the trophy. They didn’t do this on tape delay back in the 70s and 80s, did they?

2:58 Pierce on the line, with the graphic saying this is his 63rd playoff game, most by Celtic without a title. Updates at 11.

2:47 Graphic as Celtics steal: Kobe has gone 14:26 with only 3 Tech FTs.

2:14 Lakers down 15, Farmar goes to the line. He’s only 21, from LA, and UCLA. Life has got to be sweet for him. Plus, his first name is Jordan. Good job, Jordan.

1:58 Garnett does the Dream shake and ABUSES Gasol for a fall away swish, then rebounds Odom’s just-miss at the other end.

1:18 rondo is silky smooth, fakes a pass and teardrops a one-handed shot to beat the shot clock. 18-pt lead.

:38 KG in the lane, hangs, hangs, hangs, gets clobbered, hangs, possibly lands, and throws the ball up almost like a baseball. It slams off the back board and in, the crowd erupts, and I unleash a scream in this house to match KG’s. C’s by 20.

:23.6 Perkins hard-works for a lay-up underneath, for a 58-35 lead, the Garden is electric!!! Kobe misses a 3, then Garnett throws up a half-court prayer to end the half.

0:00 Breen: “the Celtics are 24 minutes away from the NBA Championship.”

Halftime. I gotta get this laptop fired up. Lakers have shot 29% in the first half, and the best of “Wired” is coming up. Life is good.

KG 17 pts, 6 reb, 3 asst

PP 10 pts, 3 reb, 9 asst

Good stuff to close out halftime.

Stu Scott: The Lakers have 8 shots. Kevin Garnett has eight shots.

Mike Wilbon: LA has to swing from the heels. Go small ball, and play like it’s Nov. 1st.

Jon Barry: Phil Jackson is saying, ‘Who are you? And you are? This is not the team I know. Have some pride and come out to play.’

D-Wade: I gotta give props to Marquette graduate Doc Rivers.

All of them pretty much concede the championship to the Celtics. I’m just saying.

Celtics huddle up with Scalabrine hovering on the outside resplendent in a navy blue suit.

Here we go

11:46 Tony Allen to Rondo in the corner for an easy 2.

Van Gundy: “Hard to stop the Celtic train right now.”

11:28 Lamar goes strong to the hoop, as Van Gundy lets us know the Lakers had NO offensive rebounds in the first half. Wow.

Jim Clemons still on staff with Phil, Odom cuts lead to 24, at 60-36.

Breen & Jackson remind us there have been some runs in this series. I wouldn’t mind seeing Kobe make it interesting, but he just missed AGAIN.

10:51 Rondo underneath dribbling, out to Allen for a 3. This is. . .getting to be over.

Ray Ray has 11 on 3-4 shooting, 2-3 on 3’s

10:18 Fisher misses a 3, KG rebound.

9:52 Fisher takes it hard to the paint, wills in a lay-up and a foul. Perkins leaves with (what?) 5 fouls??? Wow, that snuck up on everyone. Well, by everyone, I mean, me.

9:41 PJ Brown hacked by some Laker foreigner. I would think Doc Rivers would have worn a flashier suit and tie. He went with a plain dark suit, white shirt, and a bland black-and-white diagonal striped tie. Blah.

9:11 Pierce slicing and dicing, no pun intended, through the Lakers and Odom for a bank lay-up.

8:49 Rondo follows a Vladimir Radmanovich 3 with a reaching, one-handed scoop shot while getting bumped by Kobe, gets the FT, and the lead is back to 26, 70-44.

Papa Joe and Mom arrive, happy with their season ticket location choices for the upcoming Billiken season. Dad settles in for an enjoyable stretch of basketball.

8:30 Fisher hangs in for a close jumper. Not that he’s keeping them in it, but it doesn’t seem like any Lakers really want to score.

8:08 Ray misses a jumper, and the ball bounces lazily to the free throw line, where KG runs it down; Lakers are just not giving effort right now.

7:37 Ray Ray pitches a tent in the corner, orders a pizza, eats it, and drills the 3. I wonder if he tipped the delivery guy.

7:07 Odom throws it in, Kobe does a jump shot alley-oop from about 5 feet. Nice shot.

6:48 Mark Jackson: “Hondo loving what Rondo’s doing.” The blonde is gone. Don’t know if Mark Jackson noticed.

KG puts in 2 FTs for 19 pts.
6:37 Kobe misses a fall away, he cannot get a shot, or isn’t trying.

6:25 Danny Ainge is shown with some fat on his face. Mitch Kupchak is yawning, as his team falls dwon 29 pts. Mark Jackson: I give him credit, he’s yawing, I couldn’t sleep if I was down 29 pts. Dad and I love this observation.

Rondo is playing fantastic, racing around for assists and steals, just playing well.

5:57 PJ Brown has played in more playoff games than regular season games.

5:40 Kobe lets fly yet another missed fall away.

5:09 KG forces a jump ball with Gasol and turns into a lion, King of the Jungle. Mark Jackson says, “This a match-up of strength. Garnett wins it.”
5:03 Vlad Rad makes things interesting with a 3, 79-51.

4:43 KG with an almost lay-up on Lamar, but Rondo tips in rebound.

4:22 Kobe, finally, works and works, reverses under with a left hand for 2 pts.

4:21 Mark Jackson praises Rondo as Gollum, er, Sam Cassell, scowls on the bench.

KG has 22 pts, 10 rebounds.

4:03 Lamar breaks a Hubie Brown commandment, leaves his feet without a plan, and throws away the ball. Pierce grabs it, splits two defenders and gets the foul called.

Pierce has 14 pts, 9 rebounds

Celtics have a 31 point lead with 3 minutes left in the 3rd. I just wonder what Kobe’s reaction will be after this game. They need some size, but they were the FAVORITES coming in!

This will be 1st time in 30 yrs Boston has clinched a championship here in Boston.

Dad celebrates the forthcoming championship by pulling out his dental floss to pretty up his chicklets.

2:48 PJ Brown expertly plays Gasol in the post, tricks him into backing into nothing, and falling down on his arse.

2:31 Rondo has 5 steals, 13 pts, 3 assists, and the graphic says his favorite player growing up was Isaiah. Let’s see, I want to make a joke, but the one thing that does come to mind is that the sexual harassment verdict with Anucha Browne-Sanders came in at just over $11 million, which is probably at least 3 times as much as Rondo’s salary in the NBA until now.

2;17 Kobe comes in strong for a bank lay-up.

1:48 I hate to say it in such a great performance, but Kobe just breathed on KG, and KG fell over like a rag doll.

Hondo is shown with TWO blondes on both sides of him. Although it seems he doesn’t even notice them. Flomax must be working.

Van Gundy says, “Can you look any better than that?”He was 1974 Finals MVP. Hondo, not Van Gundy.

1:35 Tony Allen in for Garnett, with Posey.

1:18 Papa Joe: “Chitch is in,” said with disdain. Gasol with a mini-hook, cuts lead to 25.

:53.2 Rondo comes back with a hanging lay-up.

:36 Kobe stuffed by PJ Brown on an acrobatic lay-up.

:25.4 Rondo to PJ for a wide open 11-foter.

0:00 Posey just shuts down Kobe, forces a missed fall away.

Breen: “the utter destruction of the Lakers in Game 6.”

Through 3 quarters, the Celtics have a 29-point lead. Right now, Red Auerbach is cutting the cigar.

Dad is wrapping some floss around the handle of a hand-mirror.

4th Qtr begins, Michele Tafoya gets Doc rivers to say “Just keep playing.”

11:56 With Kobe on the bench., Trevor Ariza joins Odom, Chitch, Farmar, Turiaf. Big Baby, Posey, PJ Brown, Ray Ray and Rondo for the Celtics.

Kobe and Pau have surrendered looks on their faces as Rondo adds a lay-up for his 18 pts.

11:11 Big Baby makes the most of his time on the court with his 2nd foul of the quarter.

Breen: “Ubuntu, the idea of collective success, has been said before every game.”

10:47 Chitch misses a 3, long pass to Rondo cherry picking, goes up for the one-handed stuff, but is undercut by Farmar, the ball rolls in, and Farmar gets a Flagrant 1.

KG back in for PJ, who leaves to a standing ovation.

10:37 Big Baby almost has a dunk on Odom’s grill, but is slammed to the floor, and makes 1 of 2 to bring the lead back to 30, 95-65. Farmar comes back and hits a 3 as Andrew Bynum, on the Laker bench in a brown suit, contemplates what might have been, and what could possibly be in the future.

10:04 Ray Ray with a laser 3 from the corner. Thing of beauty. I love Ray’s pseudo smirk when things are going right.

9:31 Turiaf for a tough two-pt jump shot. Kobe nowhere in sight, Boston crowd chanting “LET”S GO BOSTON!”

9:07 Ray Ray puts a three right in Odom’s face. Stick of Butter.

Phil gets a timeout.

Commercials and Other Thoughts:

Wasn’t this assembly line worker on a car commercial also the guy who found love on e-harmony.com?

Just can’t get enough Wipeout. But I’ll never watch it. It’ll be better watching highlights on Youtube rather than being stretched out between commercials and annoying hosts.

NBA: There are heroes. There are Superheroes, and then there is Hancock. Great Promo. Not only has Robert Horry won like 17 championships, he is starring in a July 4th blockbuster coming to a theater near you!

Big 3 Back in the game with Posey and Rondo. Kobe is back as well to go through the motions.

Mark Jackson: “If the Lakers signed Hancock, I’d still pick the Celtics.”

8:37 Ray Ray AGAIN in same spot from corner for 3 more.

8:15 Kobe LONG 3 miss over KG, Rondo gets it, brings it down, KG makes a short jumper for a 36-point lead. I think Red just lit his cigar.

7:26 Rondo is slowing up with an eye, Eddie House comes to the table, Farmar muffs an alley-oop which goes off the rim, then Pierce comes down and throws the ball out of bounds for Rondo to come out. Reminds me of Hockey.

Breen: “Perkins hugs Rondo. The questions were, Can the Celtics win a championship with Perkins at center and Rondo at PG. I think that question has been answererd.” Well put.

Van Gundy: “You have to give credit to management.”

Everyone is practically giving a parade, with over 6 minutes left.

6:01 Posey follows a Farmar three with a strong layup. Posey has simply been indispensable in the playoffs for the Celtics.

5:35 Ariza dunks for a meaninglsess bucket.

5:20 Ray Ray hits his 7th 3, pouring salt in this wound. Ray Ray has tied a Finals record for 3’s.

5:07 Odom tries to come in for a lay-up, Garnett mercilessly slams him to the floor for a foul and a snarl, Odom doesn’t like it. The place is going nuts.

Commercials and Other Thoughts:

Charles Barkley is still hanging tough with Dwyane Wade and the T-Mobile spots.

Nissan with an absolute bollocks GPS commmerical. Marco. Polo. Puke in my mouth.

How does this Arbor foundation have a commerical in the Finals? Doesn’t this air time cost like $2 million dollars or something?

NBA trophy promo: Doc Rivers: “I haven’t touched the trophy. I want to earn it. Then I can touch it whenever I want to.”

Celtics, and Rivers are all smiles. 5:07 left, 113-78.

24 wins last year. 66 this year.

5:04 Boston begins the Na-Na-Na Goodbye chant.

4:51 Pierce gets knocked in the face from Lamar as he knocks down the 3.

The Bye Bye chants are thundering.

4:01 The Big Three leaves the game together for the final time of the 2007-08 NBA season. Lots of hugs, head taps, love gestures to the crowd, a menage-a-hug with Rivers. Luke hit’s a 3.

3:29 Kobe still in the game, Tony Allen wants to score, misses but Powe puts in the rebound.

3:10 Lamar Odom shows up and drives hard, gets fouled. Garnett and Ray Ray have 26, Pierce has 17, I think Rondo has 20. KG is giving five and G-hugs to everyone in the vicinity of the bench.

3:01 Powe with a dunk.

2:49 Kobe misses a 3. What a bad night for him.

2:35 Posey just doesn’t care, sticks a fall away 3 for a 38 pt lead.

2:15 Kobe, 22 pts on 7-22 shooting, has a look on his face that says, “Well, at least I am not somebody’s girlfriend in a prison somewhere.” As a father, I can say that he’s probably looking forward to seeing his two daughters right after the game, and get this Lakers debacle out of my mind.

My brother Mark shows up victorious from a softball game for the last 2 minutes.

Commercials and Other Thoughts:

“WNBA. Expect Great.” Just not Great English.

2:21 Wait a minute. Scalabrine is in uniform!!! He’s got a warmup on!!! What’sd going on here??!!!

2:11 Odom is suddenly playing like it’s Game 6 of the NBA Finals. Oh wait, it is. Too bad they’re down 37 with 2 minutes to go.

2:07 KG is player of the game. The Lakers bench is forlorn. Or melancholy. Or distraught.

1:54 Mark Jackson just talked about how Scalabrine and Scot Pollard went back and put on their jerseys so they could be a part of everything. Good for them. I just went and got a cheese snack so I could be part of everything.

1:39 Big Baby puts one down on the break.

1:22 Eddie House underhands an alley-oop to Tony Allen for an explosive reverse dunk.

1:09 Farmar skies a shot that hits for 3. Lead is 40, the biggest finals margin was 42, ‘98 Bulls vs. Jazz. I was in my girlfriend’s basement watching that—no really, we were watching the game.:54.5 Chitch for a 3 from the corner, and I think he’s whining for a foul. Hilarious.

House is running the clock out. Misses a 3, Powe pushes off on the rebound for a foul. Doc’s jacket is drenched. Pierce hit him with some red Gatorade. Thank goodness for HD. That’s great!

His white shirt is stained red, and he spreads the stain to Danny Ainge with a big hug. I hope the NBA “Wired” Staff is repairing the damaged remote mic right about now.

Mom goes, “Don’t they do that in football?”

Hondo is signing an autograph between blondes.

Bill Russell has some white hair. Can we see some Gino on the scoreboard?

Pollard is in a tank top. I hope they show his Thai wife.

Doc Rivers’ son is on the bench with his Dad’s arm around him, Perk is holding a small child, probably his. Everyone has their arms around each other.

:28.7 FT’s missed and the crowd is hugging the court. This is surreal. Celtics can’t dribble it out, shot clock violation.

0:00 Final: Celtics 131-92. I’m Shipping up to Boston, OH OH OH!!! Let the mayhem begin!

Postgame moments:

Confetti falls, hugs exchanged. The cheerleaders are on the floor. The Big three contribute to a baseball-style mosh pit, chanting, “Celtics WHOO!” and of course, KG bellows UBUNTU, and seems to faint. “I got you,” Leon Powe says.

Michele Tafoya sticks a mic in his mouth. “ANTYTHING IS POSSIBLE!!!” Somewhere, an Adidas PR person is slapping their forehead and saying, “Kevin, how many times did we practice this? Impossible is Nothing! Geez, just once!”

The sound goes out--was that profanity?

“It’s all right,” Michele says.

KG: 26 pts, 14 rebounds and one incomprehensible shout-out to something involving his Mama.

KG to Michele, “I’m certified. You look good tonight girl.”

I heard “We are the Champions.” Now “glory Days” is playing.

KG: “Whatchyou gonna say now?”

Hug with Bill Russel, KG says, “I got my own. We made you proud.”

Bill Russel gets a hat, that’s cool.

As commerical comes on, the HD Slo-mo revisits the Gatorade bath, and the cop in the background is spectacularly shown getting splashed while cringing.

Tribute commercial, including Red lighting a cigar, banners raised, Ray Ray dreaming. “Become Legendary.” Awesome.

Trophy Presentation: Stuart Scott’s left eye is booed by Boston. Oh wait, they’re booing David Stern.

Commish, “There can only be one, he says. Wyc Grousbeck, the Celtics owner, is pumped.

Wheaties box is being held up by Scalabrine.

“Let’s give them the trophy.” Wyc is happy.

Doc touches it. Congrats, Doc, you’ve earned it.

Jesus Shuttlesworth is all smiles, and has a seriously curly haired kid. I hope he’s healthy.

Doc has a red collar. This is classic. Forevermore, in all the films and pictures, he’ll have Gatorade on his shirt.

Doc tears up talking to Stu Scott about his Dad Grady. “Grady would say, ‘Well Done. It’s about time.’

Commish, to present the MVP, says, “It is the Truth.” You gotta feel good for Pierce. Just don’t throw up any gang signs right now, Paul. Fight it! don’t do it!

I hear people yelling UBUNTU in the background.

Everyone is saying all the right things.

Doc gets hugged by Hondo, Jo Jo white.

Pierce: “You all stuck with me, and we did it! Championship #17!”

Ray Ray had a finals record 22 3-pters.

Queen comes on again.

Man I wish I could be in Boston tonight. I wouldn’t go to bed until 5 am. Jumping out of cars on the street with strangers chanting UBUNTU!!!

Breen sends us to a commercial with Pierce clutching the MVP trophy and yelling.

Here comes the Couch surfer guy.

Congratulations Celtics, thank you for everything you have done for the NBA, America, and my Dad this year. Happy times.

Now we can all start going to bed earlier starting this week.

3/11/08 Three Weeks of Hiro

Hiroki reached three weeks of age this week, and while time has gone quickly, being in the hospital for his birth seems long ago. Michiyo and I have been extremely lucky to have her Mom Chieko here; the three of us have delighted in a number of firsts and "big" events, like Hiroki's first bath, fingernail clipping, and walk outside. Writing about these experiences and sharing pictures is something I only could do after becoming a Dad, because if I was younger and having crazy adventures in foreign countries (you know, like way back in 2006), I might think this stuff sounded boring. However, right now, I would rather be doing nothing else. Check out some of the good times from recently:

Not only does Michiyo have an excellent and unique sense of fashion, she revels in finding bargains and thinking ahead.

We have been on the lookout for holiday clothes on sale in the "off" season, and Michiyo found this great pumpkin getup. Yes, this big ol' bag of Hiroki will be brought out again in October, only with newly-cut holes for the legs which Chieko made recently.

Then there's this one:

For a Mom, it seems sometimes like having a baby is like having your own doll to dress up. Michiyo liked this Pooh outfit, but it is too big for Hiroki right now. By the time he is old enough to fit into it, the weather will be warm. Solution? Snap a few pics of him in it, and take it back!

Hiroki's resemblance to either Michiyo or me has not been clear to me yet. This week, I thought that while his face looks Asian, his big brown eyes are from the Fingerhuts.

We saw this pose in a frame at Molly Nahm--err, Kelly's house, so we took a bunch like it. I didn't even notice till now how pink Hiro's feet were/are compared to Michiyo's hands.

We are both serious about our sleep.

I know I am his Dad, but it's hard to think about anything else when this adorably cute baby boy in my arms.

Two words: Soulja Boy

If that means ntohing to you, don't worry, you're not missing anything (trust me!). But if you know what I am referring to, I have taken a few shots of Hiroki with his arms like this.

YOOOOUUUUUUU!!! Crank that Soulja Boy, YOOOOUUUUU!!!

Grandpa Joe, Papa Joe, and Hiro:
My Dad is getting started right away teaching his first grandson the importance of a packed breast pocket.

First Bath
Look at all that hair. Hiroki did very well in the gentle hands of his Mom and Grandma.

These two top my list of Most Beautiful People

2/19/08 I Heart Hiro!

At 10:02 a.m. on Tuesday, February 19, 2008, Hiroki Skyler Fingerhut made his debut on Earth, weighing in at a healthy 8 lbs, 5 oz, and sporting an impressive head of black, wavy hair. Michiyo was a rock star throughout, braving tough contractions and putting off an epidural till late in the process, resulting in a swift, smooth delivery. Her Mom, Chieko was solid as well, popping right up at 3 a.m. for the ride to the hospital. Everyone is doing well, and I will post some more pics and info as soon as I get a chance, not to mention as soon as I can score a fun picture of what my son looks like—a Junior Billiken!

Tuesday, February 19, 2008, about 10:15a: Just out of the oven

I Love it when you call me Big Papa

First pic of the Fingerhuts

Three Moms and A Baby
This is the mascot of St. Louis University High School, where I graduated in 1995. We are the Junior Billikens.

Now, look at the face, and lock it in your mind.
This is my son. Put a smile on that adorable face, and now I have my very own Junior Billiken.

This is my son and his hair. Like a Junior Billiken with Rogaine. This is my son hungry
Michiyo got this ladybug to be a measuring stick for Hiroki as he grows.
Have you ever seen a more beautiful wife and son? I am incredibly lucky--Michiyo did an amazing job.
As everyone knows, Dads are usually exhausted and hungry after the birth of their child. I decided to treat myself to an extensive room service lunch in bed.

Lots of family and friends have said how cute our son is. Michiyo and I humbly yet wholeheartedly agree. Keeping the tradition alive: Michiyo and I were married on the coldest, snowiest day of the year in 2005. Her Mom, Chieko, arrived about three weeks ago in time for a winter storm. And now, Hiroki arrives home on a snow day. Let's enjoying Winter Family!

1-30-08 New Life Coming

Happy New Year Family & Friends! Consider this your last, final, ultimate Holiday Card. I was determined to send something like this before January finished, so here we go.

Michiyo and I had a busy and memorable 2007. While we did not manage to tackle any long-term, epic trips like in ’05 and ’06, we had a bunch of fun times and crazy adventures. Several weddings gave us an excuse to get out of St. Louis and explore, first to Portland, Oregon, for Maria and Nick in August, and then to Harrisonburg, Virginia, for Dave and Allison in October. Michiyo spent a month in Kumamoto, where she attended the wedding of an old friend there, and while she was there, I got down to New Orleans for a service trip, then out to Las Vegas for a National DJ Meeting.

Speaking of DJing, I spent another year gainfully employed as an entertainer. In the last year, I have been able to continue to blend a lot of skills together to make people happy on important occasions, which brings me great happiness as well. Whether I was acting wacky doing magic shows, unicycling around crowds, or keeping a packed dance floor jumping, I stayed very busy all year long, and loved it! Increased experience has also brought increased success and recognition: For the 4th quarter of 2007, I achieved the status of #1 DJ at Complete Music, and finished #3 for the entire year. See the last paragraph for a gold mine of video amusement, and get a glimpse of the action.

Beyond everything else, however, the most important and exciting development of 2007 is about to reach its zenith. Michiyo has reached full term with our baby boy inside of her, with a due date of February 13th. I never thought my lovely little wife could get so big. As so many parents know, these last few months have not been easy, but all ready, we feel extremely rewarded with good health. Some of my best memories of these times will be simply sitting on the couch with Michiyo and feeling our little guy moving around like crazy. Everybody says that life is about to change, and I feel a little like being a senior in college about to graduate—people can tell you it will be different, but the only way to know is to experience it. I will keep you all up to date.

Thank you all once again for continuing to share in my (and our) experiences. Life will only get more exciting, and we are happy that you are a part of it. Happy New Year!

The cake in these pictures was designed by my sister Katie for our baby shower.

2 things to enjoy:
--Make sure you check out post #19 listed on my blog. Entitled “My Mullet,” it is one of my favorite tales of life in Japan, and I have included many pictures.
--I have posted my first video on YouTube. Please check out “The Humpty Dance by Fingerhut,” and pass it along, post comments, and Dowatchalike.

A Little Bit of Mullet-tude Goes a Long Way

Of all the experiences and memories that routinely pop into my consciousness from the surreal three years of life in Kumamoto-ken from 2001 to 2004 on the JET Programme, one story needs to be told for the enjoyment and education for all. This story is one person’s coming of age, in a way, along with a community’s enlightenment, and should be passed down for generations to come.

If you have lived in Japan for any amount of time, you quickly learn that a part of Japanese culture is to complement at all costs. An insult or question about anything is scarcely heard, especially when it comes to peculiar habits of foreigners. One example is the propensity to complement foreigners on the use of chopsticks, regardless of the length of time that person spent using and practicing chopsticks. If you have been here 20 years, you will still get the admiring words of “Ohashi, jozu (Wow, you’re great at chopsticks)!”

When I came to Kumamoto in August of 2001, I had bleached my brown hair into an obnoxious, whitish blonde color, and compounded that mess by not only letting it grow for the next 18 months, but continuing the practice of bleaching it every few months. One of my motivations with this eyesore was to push the envelope, as it were. I knew my hair was horrible, my friends openly mocked and laughed at it, and my Mom routinely emailed begging me to cut it.

However, even at the peak of my follicular chaos, Japanese people routinely complemented me. I insisted on finding out just how ridiculous something had to become in order for sanity to enter the conversation, manners and custom to be set aside, and reality restored. What would prompt a Japanese person to say, “Why don’t you cut that repugnant beehive off your head?”

If you happen to be the only poor soul in the world unfortunate enough to have never discovered the joy of mullets, a mullet is essentially a haircut that evolved sometime during the ‘80s presumably, first among soccer players possibly in England, and then spread across the world like the rage virus in “28 Days Later.” Appearing somewhat like a dead animal, the main characteristics of a mullet are short hair on the top and sides of one’s head, with unrelated long hair originating in the back. Mullets have been modeled by such luminaries as American country music star Billy Ray Cyrus, English football emperor David Beckham, and various other celebrities over the years. Hilarious names and descriptions have popped up, like the Neck-warmer, the Business-Casual, the Texas Two-step, the Kentucky Waterfall, and many more. (For illustrations and general knowledge in mulletude, log on to www.mulletsgalore.com)

In New Zealand for Christmas vacation in 2002, a year and a half after my last haircut, I went into a beachside hair salon and came out with corn rows. With enough hair, a skilled artist can braid hair directly to the scalp in neat rows that look like orderly fields of cornstalks.

That style itself was a hit with my students and friends in Japan, but “unbraiding” them was another matter. My hair ended up a tangled mess, but instead of shaving it directly, I had my friend cut off the difficult braids-beyond-hope, and was left with a mullet. Yet, this was not your garden variety mullet. Most of the bleached hair had been cut off, except for the longer hair on the back of my head. I had a two-tone mullet.

From the front, my natural brown hair resembled any conventional haircut of a normal guy, but from the side or back view, an eye-catching shock of bleached hair flowed down my head like a waterfall in the woods of Aso (the beautiful countryside of Kumamoto famous for the active volcano among other things). Put simply, the business was brown, the party was blonde! My mullet was absolutely hideous, and I decided that I had a duty to share it with the rest of Kumamoto City, if not the world. This new haircut would be the ultimate test in the question of what would it take for Japanese people to not complement you.

Unbelievably, I walked into school that week, and was greeted with the familiar salutes of “Kakoii, Joe-sensei! (Mr. Joe, you’re so handsome!)” I was stunned, and admittedly, somewhat disappointed. Not one teacher or student commented on the abomination that was my mullet, and furthermore, it was a different haircut from the previous week, so of course they called it handsome and cool! Doggedly determined to get the most mileage out of my mullet, I went everywhere trying to be mocked.

I walked the Shimotori and Kamitori, which are the covered mall-like downtown walkways. I worked the door at Sharp’s, the late great gathering spot for gaijin. I gave a self-introduction to an elementary school class and even took the time to teach them the concept of mullet. “Short-long, please repeat, everyone. Short. Long.” “Okay, everyone say, ‘Joe’s hair is mullet.” Although it came out “Ma-retto” in Katakana-ized Japanese, the effect was hilarious.

I am delighted to report that the unthinkable mercifully happened. My mullet lived and breathed for nine glorious days in Kumamoto City, was documented on video, film, and in print. On that ninth day, one of my darling junior high school third-year students named Miwa approached me. I assumed she had drawn the short straw in the discussion of which person should go up to the American English teacher and inform him that his hair should be set out with the other bags of trash on Monday or Thursday, depending on your neighborhood. Miwa’s words were unforgettably sweet, and though slightly uncertain, her point was unmistakable.

“Joe-sensei,” Miwa began, motioning me toward her in the teacher’s room, and saying each word as a question, “Now?. . .you are?. . .nice guy. But?. . .if? . . .you? (putting her hands behind her head and making some kind of caressing motion). . .cut? VERY NICE GUY.” She ended with a big smile, pleased she had communicated her point and I was not too upset.

That was it. The mullet had run its course. A 15-year old Japanese girl had not told me that my hair was visually painful to look at, but I understood. I had attained my goal and that was pushing the envelope to see when it would burst: about nine days, as it turns out. Soon after that conversation, I cut everything off for a fresh start and a new outlook.

So ends the tale of my mullet. If you get the chance to sport one in your life, whether for a half hour or two weeks, I highly recommend it. In lieu of that experience, however, please take my words, and these pictures, and pass them on to your friends, family, kids, and the next generation as well. Mullets may well be an endangered species, but we must all do our part to ensure that the memory, if not the actual creature itself, lives on from time to time.