The ghosts of Celtic past

I called my dad tonight after the game. I wanted to make sure he knew the Celtics were world champions for the seventeenth time.

He’s a Celtics fan who goes way back. Red Auerbach. Bob Cousy. Bill Russell. John “Hondo” Havlicek. Dave Cowens. Every season, no matter their record, dad always talked about “my Celts.”

My mom answered the phone and I asked if he was watching.

“No,” she said. “He’s sleeping. But he’s here now. You want to talk to him?”

Of course.

When he took the phone he said, “World champions” in a sleepy, groggy voice. Somehow he knew they won but hadn’t seen the end. He told me he couldn’t watch the fourth quarter. For some reason he thinks it’s bad luck for his team when he’s watching. For Rob Houghtlin’s famous field goal against Michigan in 1985 he took me outside to the front yard of our duplex on Taylor Drive. God forbid he jinx the Hawks by…watching the final play of the game. When the ball split the uprights we could hear the roar of the stadium from miles away.

He asked what the final score was. 131-92. I could hear him smile over the phone.

Time to make room for another banner in the “Garden’s” rafters.