The Bruins finished off their long time rivals the Canady-Annes last night in straight sets: 4-2, 5-1, 4-2, 4-1, and came out of the series looking like the strongest contender for the Cup of Lord Stanley. (Oops, sorry. Wrong cup. Here.) Next up for the Broons is likely the Rangers. And you know what that means? The games will be on TV. Ooooh. Yes, it’s the dark days for the NHL. The Bruins finally have a contending squad and no one can watch them because they haven’t been on TV. And mightn't be if they get by the Rangers. Well, I guess we’ll all have to find a nice bar that’s showing the games for the rest of the playoffs. But, where does one find such a place?
Olde Kinderhook, that’s the good news. Now, the bad news: The Celts are frigged. Dream bubbles of repeats upon repeats have been burst knee by knee. With the loss of uber-utility big man Leon Powe-my favorite player-the Celts are left with very little inside presence. Kendrick Perkins is emerging as a very solid NBA center, but he can’t carry the load alone. What we’re left with in the middle is 300 lb. Big Baby Davis who prefers a 20-foot jump shot to a rebound and the fouling automaton Mikka Moore. Look for battle weary Paul Pierce to step inside tonight and fight for boards. “The Truth which has made us free will in the end make us glad also.”-Felix Adler
Celtics play the Bulls tonight at 8 pm.
What else is going on tonight? Get in line early for tickets to “The Lost Son of Havana”, the mega-buzzed documentary about Sox fan favorite Luis Tiant and his first return to Cuba in more than 46 years. SPOILER ALERT: Bring a handkerchief. Every review has just raved about this film. Sr. Tiant will be there. As will many favorites of Red Sox Nation. You might even see a few of them at Thom’s later on. Follow the link above for where and when.
Wow, a whole newsletter and barely a mention of the Sox. 7 in a row. ‘Nuff ced.
Do you have any songs you think should be on the new Sox playlist? Send them to me please and I’ll put them on.
Yo soy un hombre sincero
De donde crece la palma
Y antes de morirme quiero
Echar mis versos del alma
Guantanamera, guajira, Guantanamera
Y para el cruel que me arranca
El corazon con que vivo
Cardo ni ortiga cultivo
Cultivo la rosa blanca
Guantanamera, guajira Guantanamera
-Jose’ Marti’
