I’ll be the first to admit it – I know that we as an organization need to cut ties with Ray Allen and move on with the rebuilding project, but I want it both ways. I don’t want Sugar Ray signing with the Miami Heat, the team that we’ve just poured our hearts and souls into beating, only to come up painfully short. Don’t get me wrong. I love Ray Allen. Classy as they come. One of the all-time greats. But if he goes to Miami and wins two or three more rings, then how do we look back on his place in Celtics history? To me it will have the feel of a stop-off point on the way to a preferred destination. Sort of like stopping at a DoubleTree hotel at the halfway point to the beach.
Well, guess what? If the Heat sign Allen, my prediction is that Allen plays 3-4 more years. He’s in phenomenal shape, and while his body can’t stand up to the grind of being an everyday player, Allen would come off the bench, play 15-20 a game, and sit out as many games as he needs to stay tip-top.
I’m sorry, the homer in me just can’t stand the thought of Allen sleeping with the enemy. But I’m bracing for it just the same, because there’s a very high probability that we’ll see Allen in a Heat uniform next season.
In a perfect world Allen takes a substantial pay cut to play the same role in Boston. But we know that’s not going to happen. The Ray Train has already left the station, regardless of what we do or don’t hear coming out of Causeway Street. I can feel it. Allen is on his way out the door. I hate that, because I thought he’d finish his career in Boston and that he’d always be remembered primarily as a Celtic. But a Heat signing changes all of that. Allen in black? Really? Really? It’s enough to turn the stomach. I close my eyes and see Allen knocking down threes off of a LeBron James double-team. There he is, running around Bosh screens on curl routes and receiving a catch-and-shoot from D-Wade. I’m suddenly nauseous.
Somebody break out the Pepto.
Ray, say it ain’t so.