The 1986-87 NBA season was a painful one for me. Not just because the Celtics lost to the Lakers in the Finals. But because it was the exact opposite of the previous season. Where everything that could go right did go right in 1986, everything that could go wrong did go wrong in 1987.
Walton got injured.
McHale got injured.
Bird got injured.
Parish got injured.
Wedman remained injured.
Sichting went from greatest shooter off the bench in the history of the NBA to a marginal talent at best.
Worst of all, KC Jones ran the starting five into the ground, playing them 40 plus minutes a game for a good part of the season. The more they played, the worse they got injured.
It was like watching the Beatles break-up on the hardwood, only much more painful. Just like with the Beatles, I was helpless to do anything about it. But worse, these guys I had spent so much of my life adoring were now falling apart physically.
At least the Beatles remained healthy after they broke up.
In any event, whenever I notice a playoff box score containing a grossly imbalanced distribution of minutes, I am reminded of the pain of 1987, which then reminds me of the Beatles break-up.
Oh, please, lord, let the Celtics win it all this year so I can end this cycle of pain...
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