I must admit, you're nice to look at. Yes, there were naysayers, citing the break from tradition, Red's wishes, and so on, but I certainly didn't mind watching you gyrate to the Red Hot Chili Pepper's "Give it Away" as a nice break from the tedium the 2006-07 season. (That's my favorite little number of yours, by the way.)
Sure, I had to cringe a little at the beginning of this season when the Celts dedicated the floor and unveiled Red's name, which you proceeded to stomp and roll all over not 10 minutes later, but I could live on in the hope that one of you might let a boob slip and be caught on the jumbotron.
After last night's game, though, I have one simple request.
It's time for summer vacation. Go home.
No one wants to see you traipse out onto the floor just as the Cavaliers have gone up by three late in the game. No one. You kill fan energy. Just look around at the expressionless, slack jawed faces of your Celtics' fans that were raving fanatics just moments prior. There we were, being excruciatingly toyed with by the basketball Gods with every possession, just waiting for Lebron to be Lebron after each turnover, each missed shot. Then we have to all sit down, emotionally wracked, and watch you prance around to Aerosmith.
There's a reason that that was the loudest game I've been to this season, and it wasn't you.
You perform an instant frontal lobotomy on thousands of screaming fans, and it's not the sex appeal, it's boredom. Time to pack it in and go work on your tans.
Sincerely,
Me