We're Arnold Schwarzenegger's unkillable Terminator. We're Carrie's hand erupting from the grave. We're the Matrix's relentless Agent Smith.
We are Boston sports, and we've got bad news, America. We're the monsters. We're the villains. And we're not going anywhere.
You thought you were rid of us after two insufferable decades, and let's face it, we've had that coming. Our fortunes finally seemed in decline, the inevitable result of time's patient march.
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The Celtics choked away last year's Eastern Conference Finals vs. the play-in Heat. Maybe the Jays just didn't have it in them to win a title.
The Bruins followed the greatest regular season in NHL history with its most shocking first-round exit vs. the Panthers and then everyone retired. Such a missed opportunity that Bergeron and Co. only gave us one Cup.
The Red Sox claimed permanent residence in the AL East basement and fired the boss again. Would we ever recognize a player besides Rafael Devers?
And the Patriots, the definition of institutional arrogance and excellence, finally disintegrated. Bill Belichick became so toxic that no one hired him, so he selected his classiest pocket square and degraded himself amidst a bunch of braying donkeys.
Well, here we are and already our fortunes have boomeranged back towards title town.
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The Celtics just romped to the best record in basketball and will never have a better chance of hanging Banner 18, not with the diminished Heat vanquished, the broken Bucks eliminated, and the defending champion Nuggets on the ropes. The path to a title continues in Game 1 of the second round vs. the Cavs on Tuesday and ultimately could pass through OKC or Minnesota. Nobody except Strat-O-Matic's Simulation Station saw that coming.
Then there are the Bruins. They nearly collapsed in the first round again, somehow advancing despite not leading any of the final three games vs. the Leafs until David Pastrnak's Game 7 overtime winner. They kicked off their redemption tour vs. the Panthers with a 5-1 drubbing in Game 1 on Monday night. The impenetrable Jeremy Swayman is starting to exude legitimate Tim Thomas vibes, and suddenly the idea of raising Lord Stanley's Cup doesn't sound so crazy.
We won't pretend the Red Sox or Patriots are legitimate contenders, at least not at the moment, but there's hope for the near future. The Red Sox have ridden some promising young talent and baseball's best pitching staff to a 19-16 start. There's no reason to believe they can't remain in the hunt, especially since two of the wild cards are currently coming out of the AL Central. Meanwhile, the holy prospect trio of Marcelo Mayer, Roman Anthony, and Kyle Teel look like future big leaguers at Double-A.
The Patriots remain furthest from contention after a 4-13 disaster, but they just drafted a potential franchise quarterback in UNC's Drake Maye. If they hit on him, they'll be back sooner than anyone outside of New England can stomach. Perhaps Robert Kraft can load up Air Pats One with a humanitarian supply of Pepto for the rest of the United States.
In the meantime, we'll focus on the playoffs. We're in that blessed time when the B's and C's play complementary schedules. If both conference semis go seven games, we'll have something to watch every night for nearly two weeks. If they end sooner because both teams advanced, so be it. There's always Netflix.
We're not even halfway to the unprecedented winter double, but the fact that it's on the table should make the rest of the country question the existence of a higher power, or at least the depths of His indifference. Does Boston really need to throw two more parades? Is that really the mark of a just universe?
That sounds like a you problem. We're once again just here to enjoy the ride, because trust us: This never gets old.