The NBA wouldn't allow Kevin Garnett(notes) to step in the arena last night, ordering him to serve his one-game suspension for a Game 1 tribute to "The American Dream" Dusty Rhodes outside of the TD Garden. Garnett told reporters Monday that Boston Celtics President of Basketball Operations Danny Ainge planned to have him over at the Ainges' Wellesley, Mass., spread to take in Game 2 of the C's first-round series against the Miami Heat. "It's going to be an experience," KG said.
A snippet of audio from their visit -- surreptitiously recorded by a source close to the Ainge family, delivered to Ball Don't Lie this morning and "feverishly transcribed" -- certainly confirms that.
A doorbell chimes to the tune of "Bridge Over Troubled Water," and a distant voice calls out, "Just a sec." After a moment, the sound of a door unlocking and swinging open.
Danny Ainge: Hey, Kevin! Glad you could make it out! Come on in!
Kevin Garnett: 'Preciate you having me, Danny. Brought some [bleeping] dessert pastries.
DA: Oh, you didn't have to do that, man. Very thoughtful, but unnecessary. Also unnecessary: Warming up to a Patrick Ewing-level of pregame sweat. But I appreciate the intensity all the same.
KG: It's the [bleeping] playoffs, baby.
DA: Well, I can't argue with that. I'd offer to take your coat, but I see you decided to wear your full uniform tonight. Band-Aids over both eyes -- that's a nice touch.
KG: It's that real.
DA: It certainly is. Well, let's head into the media room -- got the HD big-screen all ready to go, and I think you're going to love the restaurant I ordered from tonight.
KG: Oh, yeah?
DA: Absolutely. It's this great little Italian place that the wife and I found last offseason.
KG: Italian sounds great, man.
DA: And they do it big at this place, Kev. We stopped in on a vacation in Vermont. You know, up in Essex Junction?
KG: Wow, it must be real good if you're bringing it in from all the way up there. What's the place called?
An awkward silence.
KG: Yo, you really been waiting like two years to make that joke?
DA: Well, let's just say I find it totally satisfying and don't mind at all that delivery cost me $613. Anyway, tip-off's in about five minutes -- do you need anything? I know how particular guys can get about their pre-game rituals; to this day, I still invite Tree Rollins over to gnaw on my knuckle before every home game. And about 10 times a season, he comes.
KG: Not gonna lie: That's kinda messed up, boss.
DA: I know, right?
KG: Actually, yeah, there is one thing: You got a basket stanchion anywhere? Like, something I could rest my head against while I contemplate the horrors of genocide and re-tie the drawstring on my shorts?
DA: Hmm -- well, we've got the half-court out in the yard ...
KG: Perfect. Be right back.
Sounds of big feet walking, a screen door opening and smacking shut, then distant, muted screaming. Just persistent screaming for about 90 seconds. Wow, that's a lot of screaming. Then silence, followed by the open/smack of screen door, and more giant steps.
DA: Everything OK, Kev?
KG: Most definitely. Just needed to break the tension. Also, I think your neighbor is calling the cops.
DA: That's fine -- we'll explain when they get here. Same thing happened after you made Baby cry. Man, he woke up the neighborhood when he came over. Kid was inconsolable.
KG: Yeah. I am kind of a jerk, huh?
DA: Hey, for the next two years and $40,079,088, you're my kind of jerk, all right? All right, game's gonna start -- now dig in, before the food gets cold.
KG: Yo, pass the [bleeping] bruschetta.