On Saturday night, Kevin Garnett delivered his latest in a long line of headline-stealing quotes.
I have no life at this point," said Garnett, with whom I now have at least one thing in common. "I go home, get treatment, come back in here, study tape, film -- no life at all. This is what it is.
The quote goes up on the 2012 playoff cork board, along with other classics like:
Rondos the head that makes the Voltron.
Some of yall dont know how to bake, but dont worry about it. Ask your mothers and fathers or something someone who knows how to bake.
My only advice to him is next time he opens his mouth, actually know what he's talking about X's and O's versus checkbooks and bottom lines.
Happy Mothers Day to you mothers and future mothers. I aint talking to you deadbeat ass dads.
To be honest, the no life quote isnt nearly as entertaining as some of the others, but what it lacks in humor and KG-quirkiness, it makes up for in disclosure and honesty. It gives us another glimpse behind the KG curtain which was almost entirely off limits until this past season. And even if he lifted the veil only to reveal that there's nothing behind it, it was still pretty cool, and a refreshing deviation from the typical cliches we get from most athletes in every sport.
I have no life at this point. I go home, get treatment, come back in here, study tape, film no life at all. This is what it is.
This is what it is.
This is what it is.
But here's what most of us still want to know:
What exactly is this?
What are we actually seeing?
How do we explain what Kevin Garnett is doing?
It's clear that he's drawn unbelievable inspiration from the haters those who wrote him off as old, over-the-hill and unable to compete at his former Hall of Fame level. But those haters are nothing new. They've existed for years. They or, I should probably say, "we" have questioned his physical limitations since February of 2009. Are we supposed to assume that Garnett wasn't as motivated last year? That the sight of LeBron, Wade and Bosh on the other side of the court wasn't enough for him to reach his max-level of clinically insane motivation?
It's also clear that he's benefited from playing center, but that can only account for so much. Al Horford or Josh Smith? Spencer Hawes or Elton Brand? Is the difference between either of these match-ups actually the difference in KG's ridiculous production? What about the fact that his worst two games of the postseason by far occurred on nights when he was guarding, and being guarded by Jason Collins?
And it's also clear that he's at a level, physically, that he hasn't been in years. That's not to say that he's 100 percent or even close but KG's running, jumping and moving in ways he hasn't since before that aforementioned injury. And he's been doing it for the better part of this season. The same season we all assumed would run him into the ground, render him useless and likely send him into retirement. The same is season that's reeked havoc across the league and worn down many younger, stronger and, we assumed, more physically resilient players. Yet somehow, he's flourished. That alone is almost impossible to fathom. Combine it with everything else, and . . . I don't know.
Maybe it just is what it is. Far be it from a Boston sports fan to ever question that mantra. And really, at this point, why question anything? Why waste a second wondering how this happened, when it's far more satisfying to sit back revel in the fact that it is happening.
And with that, I should probably apologize for 700 words worth of wonder. I probably would have been better off using this space as an opportunity to declare that there's no chance that KG can keep this up. That he's bound to wear down and take the Celtics with him. I could have printed it out, slipped it into his locker during pre-game and watched the Sixers pay the price.
But right now, it really seems like KG is past that.
He's got all the fuel he needs. He's all gassed up. He's locked in.
Game. Home. Treatment. Tape. Film. Game.
Rinse and repeat. And hopefully, until much further notice.