The crazy, it'll never happen, but I'll throw his name out there anyway guy: Brandon Roy

The crazy, it'll never happen, but I'll throw his name out there anyway guy: Brandon Roy

Red's Army

The crazy, it'll never happen, but I'll throw his name out there anyway guy: Brandon Roy

Brandon roy vs. the celticsI know.  

I know. 

This is crazy. 

It'll NEVER happen.

But I'll throw the guy's name out there anyway. 

The Celtics are a little thin around the perimeter with the loss of Jeff Green.  He was going to be, or at least the Celtics hoped he would, the primary threat off the bench.  Couple that with the fact that the Celtics current plan for an actual depth-chart back up to Ray Allen is the winner of the E'Twaun Moore, Avery Bradley battle and it's clear the Celtics could use some help. 

That's why Danny Ainge should give Brandon Roy a call.  Or at least shoot him a text.  

"Wld U like 2 play 4 Cs?"

Not now, of course.  You'd have to wait for a little while.  Right now Brandon Roy and his agent will tell everyone in the world that he is retired.  The progressive degeneration of his knees ended what was going to be a spectacular career.  I'm not sure this is on the level of prematurely losing a Bo Jackson to injuries, but it's not THAT far off.  Roy was going to be a special player. 

Part of what made him so special, so soon, was an unrelenting drive.  He was a stone-cold killer on the court.  He wanted, above all else, to beat you.  It didn't matter how or at what point in the game, but Brandon Roy was going to do his best to shoot a dagger through your team's heart.  Then later he'd blow it off as if it was nothing.  Just part of of the deal.  

"I must break you." 

That's a fire that burns within some people.  It burns hotter and higher for people like Roy.  And you can't just toss some water on a fire like that and think it's going to go out.  If he gave up that easily, he wouldn't be who he was on the court.  

No, the embers are still smoldering in there.  Somewhere.  Publicly he'll say he's retired.  Stick a microphone in his face and he'll swear to every deity you could name that his knees just won't let him play.  And that's all true. 

For now. 

But his heart doesn't give a damn what his knees think.  What's his 27 year-old heart going to say when he watches game, after game, after game?  What's his prime-of-his-life brain going to think when announcers say "this team is really one player away from being a lock for the Finals?"  Sure, it's December now and the knees are sore.  But January, February and March are long months when you're watching people who aren't as good as you do what you love to do more than anything else in the world. 

That's when the dry tinder hits the smoldering embers.  That's when Danny Ainge looks up Brandon Roy's agent and asks "so…. do you think Brandon's knees can give us maybe 20 minutes off the bench for three months?"  

That's all the Celtics would be asking for.  Three months.  Be "THE guy" off the bench for 20 minutes or so.  Five minutes a quarter.  Get your best shot at glory.  Get your shot at that ring.  The banner.  The champagne bath that disguises your tears of joy as you kiss that trophy. 

For a guy like Roy, it could be too tempting to pass up.  For a guy who has only wanted those things, and possessed everything but enough knee cartilage to get himself there, a brief, maybe painful stint in a place like Boston might just be too good to be true.

Because the pain will subside over time.  Especially if you can look at that ring on your finger and finally feel satisfied about what it is you've worked for all those years.  It might be the only thing that actually puts out that fire and lets him move on in life. 

Of course, it will never happen. 

It's a crazy idea.  

But who knows?  Maybe the old Hollywood line could actually fit this story.

"It's just crazy enough to work."

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