I'm a huge Celtics fan now. Nobody is more surprised than me

I’ll never forget the moment I realized I may be a Celtics fan.

It was a weekend night last fall, and I was at a bar listening to live music with friends.

Drinks were flowing and people were dancing, the whole room seemed united in having a good time — all the ingredients for a stellar night. Except, the Celtics were playing and there wasn’t a TV in sight. Every few minutes I was checking the score on my phone — refresh, refresh, refresh. The lead jockeying back and forth. Finally, I leaned over to my partner and said: “If we leave now, we can still catch some of the fourth quarter.”

If you had told me a year ago that I’d be leaving an ideal night out to watch sports I wouldn’t have believed you. Who am I?

Growing up, sports were always on the TV. But it never became part of my identity. I didn’t know the players or the stats. I went to Fenway for the history, not the game. The Bruins caught my eye for a time, but that quickly faded. Even though I’ve lived in Boston during one of its recent “Titletown” eras (I moved here in 2012) nothing stuck in the long term.

Then I watched “Starting 5” on Netflix. And yes, this limited-series documentary is what ultimately got me hooked on the Celtics — and the NBA.

I can already hear the booing from the lifers or the nearly-lifers, the fans who have been around for the ups and downs of a team that has had a lot of ups and downs. I do not claim to be in their league.

For the unfamiliar, “Starting 5” followed five NBA superstars, including Jayson Tatum, during the 2023-2024 season. In 10 episodes, the documentary chronicled their lives, their families and their struggles on and off the court. As I watched, I became invested in their stories: Tatum’s path to greatness, Anthony Edwards’ journey into fatherhood, Domantas Sabonis’ quest for more respect, Jimmy Butler’s grief after the death of his father, and LeBron James’ obsession with his family — and Halloween.

Oh, I know how naïve it sounds now, but I thought to myself: Wow these are real people, with real stories. This is bigger than a game. I became invested in the players, and through that, I became invested in the game.

I felt connected to the team because they looked like they were a family, and I was invited to the party each time they laced up.

My initial investment made way for a borderline obsession. I watched every Celtics game this season (including the season-ending blowout last week against the New York Knicks — more on that later). I also tuned in to other team’s games; you know, sizing up the competition. I made plans around the game schedule, when they’d start and who they were playing. My social media feeds were overrun by Celtics and NBA content. I read hot-take think pieces about basketball (this surprised nobody more than me). I talked about the wins, losses and everything in between to anyone who would listen.

By the time this spring rolled around, I felt like I knew every player on the C’s — what they would do on the court, and how they seemed to be off it. I felt connected to the team because they looked like they were a family, and I was invited to the party each time they laced up.

This season was special to me. “Starting 5” was the spark, but this Celtics team is the reason I continued to watch. Along the way, I’ve realized that sports can be a reminder that nothing is permanent, that change is always around the corner.

I couldn’t have felt that any more acutely than when Jayson Tatum hobbled off the court in pain with a season-ending Achilles tendon rupture in game 4 against the Knicks.

I am sad for him and for us. I learned from “Starting 5” that this is a guy who told a teacher he wanted to play in the NBA and she told him to be more realistic. He got injured at the pinnacle of his powers, yes — but he’s also a leader, a friend, a community member of our city. It’s hard to reconcile that we maybe saw Tatum play for the last time with some of the most lovable other characters of our team. I’m learning that sports can be cruel that way.

And Celtics fans faced it last week when the C’s lost to the New York Knicks without JT. I was hopeful heading into the game — excited even. But within minutes of tip-off it was clear something was off. Their shots weren’t landing and the team lacked energy on defense. Going into halftime, I reconciled myself to the notion that this may not go the way we wanted it to. I accepted the possibility of loss but promised myself I’d watch the entire game, even if it got bad. And it did: we lost by 38 points. Still, I didn’t leave the room, I didn’t turn off the TV; I sat and watched it all because at that moment I felt like the team needed me. We'd been together the whole season, after all. I wasn’t walking away now. I don’t walk away from my friends when things get tough. My fandom isn’t conditional either, win or lose.

I watched, albeit in silence, as the C’s season came to an end. I took the weekend away from basketball, only checking in briefly on the Oklahoma City Thunder win over the Denver Nuggets. Days out from the loss, I’ve been thinking about my guys and hoping they’re taking care of themselves right now. Jayson Tatum’s injury could mean he’s out until 2027. But I know his comeback will be a once-in-a generation return. It’s also likely the Celtics could be a different team next year, and when JT returns.

NBC Sports Boston analyst and former Celtic power forward Brian Scalabrine has said you need to be delusional to play in the NBA, to believe that you can win whatever game regardless of the stats, regardless of the odds. I’d say it’s the same for fandom. To believe that your team will win no matter what, to rarely entertain the possibility of loss until you’re faced with it as the reality.

After watching this season, I can say I’m one of those fans. And I know no matter what happens, I’ll be watching the C’s next season.

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