When you're 16 going on 17

At any given time, at least half my family will be singing that "Sound of Music" tune when they open this page. I know how to aggravate the symptoms of "singing disease."

But the reference has nothing to do with Liesl, Rolf and Maria; rather, this is a tribute to KG, Paul and Ray-Ray. The Boston Celtics — the reason I started watching basketball, thanks to my Uncle Pat — have won their first NBA championship since ... about a year before I started watching basketball. (I was 8, if anyone's keeping score.) And they went from 16 championships to 17 championships.

Paul Pierce, left, Kevin Garnett, Ray Allen

But I was fortunate to have the night off and be able to watch it with my dear wife, Cindy, who not only tolerates me watching and endlessly commenting about sports, but she chimes in with some good points herself. "Garnett is so intense, but he has fun, too." Had I been at work, the above headline would have been my suggestion to the sports department

I hope young people/basketball players were watching what happened as the Celts dismantled the Lakers 131-92 (I'd love to watch anyone dismantle the Lakers, including West High down the street or Jackson Elementary 2 blocks away). The Celtics truly played like a team. They only had one bad offensive possession all night, and that was because they were too unselfish — they just kept passing the ball and no one shot it.

It was things like that all night that validated many lessons I'd learned in basketball camps and practices in my youth. We would do "machine-gun passing" drills where you had to get rid of the ball in a hurry because another one was coming at you. It taught us not to hold onto the ball too long, to share it with our teammates, then to move without it to try and get an open shot or find another player for a shot.

Another lesson, which I saw printed in dot-matrix glory on the wall of Bishop Hafey High School's gym — during Maple Manor basketball camps, on days so hot that I daydreamed of diving face first, mouth wide open into a pool of Gatorade — that said "Offense wins games, but defense wins championships."

On this night, it did. It was like the Celtics players' arms were about 18 inches longer than usual, and they found themselves in the way of many Laker passes. Rajon Rondo, the smallest player on the floor at 6-foot-1, stole the ball away from 7-footer Pau Gasol for the first of his six thefts on the night. James Posey showed poise and discipline in guarding Kobe Bryant — who some people think is the best player in the game. The Celtics only allowed the Lakers to get two rebounds on the offensive end. As early as junior high coaches brought up the issue of offensive rebounds to us, and how important they were not to give up.

The Celtics stuck to pure fundamentals, the tactics players learn back when they're too short to dunk or not strong enough to shoot the ball all the way from the three-point line. And they played together, no one believed they were more important than the other.

Boston coach Doc Rivers — whose father died earlier this year — said before the game, "Not one person on this team wants to win more than anyone else ... we all want to win." He repeats an African saying "ubuntu," which means "I am, because we are." 

Take that, Descartes.

I started watching basketball because of the exciting plays, dunks and great players. I still like all those things. But tonight, I was reminded of a big reason why I continue to watch sports, even with all of its controversies and astronomical salaries.

I watch because you can extrapolate life lessons when teams like the 2008 Boston Celtics reach the pinnacle of their profession by checking their egos at the door (cliche, I know), stepping forward, raising their hands to volunteer for dirty work, giving up personal glory for team achievement, changing "me" into "we." They showed that relationships take hard work, and when that hard work pays off, it is sweet.

Thank you, Celtics, for taking me back to my childhood and for showing an example of principles I can use in my adult life as well.

"Anything is possible!"

-Kevin Garnett