I trust Celtics general manager Danny Ainge, and I trust Celtics coach Doc Rivers. Still to this day, it amazes me how people were jumping down Ainge’s throat while he was in the midst of constructing a foundation for this team to be built on. You have to admit, when he came here, he was given a 100-year-old foundation that was destroyed by a one-man wrecking crew (Rick Pitino).

I know that Danny has made some unpopular moves in the past, especially when he traded forward Antoine Walker and guard Tony Delk to the Dallas Mavericks for center Raef LaFrentz, guard Jiri Welsch and forward Chris Mills during his inaugural 2003 campaign. But if you look back at it, he did what he needed to do; the combo of Walker and forward Paul Pierce was done, extinguished and downright tiresome. He also made a draft day trade in 2003 to get center Kendrick Perkins and point guard Marcus Banks from the Memphis Grizzlies.

In 2003, the trade of forwards Eric Williams and Kedrick Brown and center Tony Battie to the Cleveland Cavaliers for center Chris Mihm, guard Ricky Davis and salary dump Michael Stewart was deemed a fairly brilliant move. Davis at the time was a true scorer and still is, just not for us.

This isn’t the regular season, this isn’t Rome and this isn’t a mid-afternoon shootaround. This is the National Basketball Association playoffs, a time for dedication, relentless vigor and overall outstanding play.

As I sit here in my dimly lit office on a dark and damp Friday night, I can’t help but think that the Boston Celtics must grow up. They have to do it quick and at the same time learn that the playoffs are a different beast. This isn’t some run of the mill mid-term exam; this is the SATs of basketball, a time of the year where everything but your heart and inner self is put aside. What I see before me now is gutwrenching and totally contrary to what was on that floor during 82 regular season games. There is no sense of urgency at all!

What kind of road do the Celts have ahead of them? Is it going to be the joy that overcomes a runner when they see a freshly paved flat street in their line of vision? Or, is it going to be like the nauseating feeling that comes over a person when they drive their brand new BMW over a pothole going 80mph on 128? I don’t have a BMW, but I’d like to.

I desperately wish I had the answer to this burning question, because I know so many of you would like to know. But if the way the Philadelphia 76ers have been manhandling the Detroit Pistons is any indication of where this ride is going, it likely will be as unpredictable as New England’s ever-changing weather patterns.

You see, over the first three games of the Pistons/76ers series, Philadelphia surprising leads the “fierce” and “dominant” Pistons 2-1. Are you kidding me? The 76ers have blatantly outplayed the Pistons. If you watch the games, Detroit looks lost and totally tormented by some kind of inner turmoil. They don’t look right.

As the lights of the TD Banknorth Garden shine down on the hallowed parquet floor and the 16 championship banners sway to the faint breeze filtering through the building, I can’t help but wonder how this season will end.

Will “K.G.” live up to the hype and dominate? Will Paul Pierce finally get his gold? Will Rondo freeze? Will Ray Allen shoot with determination or desperation? These are all questions weighing heavily on my mind today as the opening tip-off against the Atlanta Hawks draws closer and closer.

The National Basketball Association playoffs are a beast, a conundrum of blood, sweat and tears. To me, with K.G. aboard the Celtics’ ship this season, the future looks bright. He is the prototype of what it takes to win in this league. He is a potent elixir of grit, talent and the determination. He has it all.

Pierce is a matured player, a man who finally can see a light at the end of the tunnel. He can taste it, he can smell it, and he can already feel the sterling silver, 24 karat gold glazed Larry O’Brien Trophy in his hands. Will Pierce make a name for himself in the annals of Celtics lure? Stay tuned.

As the weather starts to slowly warm up and the crisp winter air morphs into a faint smell of spring, I can’t help but daydream about the impending rollercoaster ride that the Sox are destined to take me on in 2008.

They are undoubtedly a nasty team, and it’s only the first leg of the 162-game marathon, but I am truly irked about the way the staff has been throwing. I mean, if you aren’t, you’re nuts. They have combined to allow a grand total of 36 runs over five of their last six contests. The supernatural arms of the “kids” have been so-so at best and the bullpen is starting to resemble a backyard barbecue wiffle ball pitching performance by an overly intoxicated family member. Worried? Yes! Distraught? Not yet.

I live and breathe sports in this town and I remember far worse starts by this team. It’s just watching the guys that were supposed to be included in the acquisition of newly anointed New York Mets ace Johan Santana throw and not succeed that bothers me. Not to mention, Jacoby Ellsbury has been reduced to a part-time player and he’s not happy, you can see it in his face.

The playoffs, a time presented to us fans that encompasses joy, rapture and a stress level higher than a Jack Clark popup. Well, you know what I mean.

If the season were to end today, the Celtics would play the 35-40 Atlanta Hawks. The only other squad they might possibly face in the first round would be Philadelphia (38-37). But with Atlanta and Philly on tap for a home and home series this weekend, the Celtics’ first round matchup should be decided by Sunday.

As for Atlanta, they are a team that has won five games in a row and is actually stocked with some well-rounded players like point guard Mike Bibby, shooting guard and former Celtic Joe Johnson and power forward Josh Smith.

They are five wins ahead of last years final win total of 30 and are No. 15 amongst all NBA teams with 98 points scored per game. In addition, they are ranked 16th in the league with a 45.3 field goal percentage and are positioned a surprising 12th in the league with a mere 99.5 points allowed per game.

In the Boston Celtics’ last two games; they’ve been outscored 61-36 in the fourth quarter, which is very odd. In addition, over the course of the two mind-boggling contests, they’ve turned the ball over 35 times and had 54 fouls called against them. New Orleans (21) and Philadelphia (16) combined to have the whistle blown against them an intriguing 37 times. Boy, the National Basketball Association does not want to promote defense at all. I guess P.J. Brown-like blocks and breakaway windmill dunks off of a Rondo steal don’t sell tickets.

New Orleans Hornets point guard Chris Paul made a habit out of using Boston players as a cushion for his elaborate uncontrolled skirmishes towards the hoop. But the savvy third-year “veteran” only had five fouls called against him. Can someone please explain?

However, the Celtics had no reason to lose the Crescent City clash. They were ahead by an astonishing 15 points at one time. Unfortunately for the green wearing warriors, the game of football was allowed to seep into the contest by the whistle-blowing maniacs. Who’s counting? But I saw New Orleans “phenom” Bonzi Wells shoulder thrust the Celtics’ big men at least 10 times.

As the distinctive smell of pine tar fills the warm but comfortable Florida air, I can’t help but gleefully think how good a fresh season of baseball feels. I mean, what’s better than waking up every morning to pull on my khakis and sport a short sleeve Comcast SportsNet polo? What’s better than sitting here on location with the 2007 World Series champion Boston Red Sox? The answer is pure and simple, nothing!

First off, welcome back to baseball season. Sorry for my brief hiatus, but I was commiserating like the rest of you over the Pats’ blindsided loss and preparing for my trip to Florida. However, here we are again ready to dig into what should be an eventful and undoubtedly exciting 2008 campaign.

As the 2008 season slowly approaches, there are a couple of questions that present themselves at some pretty critical positions for the Sox. For instance, who will win the battle between outfielders Coco Crisp and Jacoby Ellsbury for the rights to start in center? Plus, how will the rotation configuration play out with the injury to starting pitcher Curt Schilling? I’m sure you’re as excited as I am to see how the whole charade pans out.

As I sit here at my hotel desk typing away on my laptop, I can’t help but ponder what the final score will be after the most important 60 minutes of the season come to an end. You have to admit, as much as we all “know” that the Patriots will win their fourth Super Bowl, you can’t help but wonder about the unknown.

Listen, I don’t want to plague you guys with my guesses and personal turmoil, but a 19-0 campaign must come to fruition, or the most eventful and dominant season in the history of the National Football League by one team will be nothing more than the average snowflake in a New England Nor’easter. This year’s New England Patriots aren’t average, and they have one more game to prove that.

As we enter the final days of waiting across the country, media day passed with its usual excitement and almost predictable quirkiness. But one thing that stuck out in my mind today was New York Giants wide receiver Plaxico Burress prematurely predicting that the Giants will beat the Patriots 23-17. Wow, people just don’t learn, bulletin board material is what the Patriots feast on for meals before big games.

I actually love this matchup, because I relish in the fact that the Pats will have another opportunity to silence a team that thinks they have the right to talk trash in this league. Who have they beaten? The Colts? Well that’s all fine and dandy, but the Colts are just a second rate team that didn’t have the large extent of help from the referees that they usually are saved by. What have they accomplished? Nothing, absolutely nothing, they are just a bunch of cry babies that whine and moan their way to victories. What will they accomplish? Chances are that their days are numbered and they know it. On Sunday, they’re up against a team of destiny, a team that will grace the hallowed halls of Canton forever, a team that will be remembered for their dominance and execution for eternity. Stay classy San Diego! Yeah, okay.