The Celtics embarrassed themselves in Game 4

That was pathetic.

Never have I seen such convictionless, uninspired, failure-laden basketball. The Boston Celtics team that asserted themselves in Games 1, 2 and 3 was apparently stuffed in a checked bag and accidentally sent to Saudi Arabia instead of back to Boston, and even so they were sent a day early. Hopefully, there’s time to recover the baggage before Game 5.

The Celtics came out in the first half with their party hats on and their legs tied together for the three-legged race. Apparently, nobody told them that they had to win a basketball game before starting the festivities, and they spent the next 48 minutes tripping over each other while the Dallas Mavericks ran away with the birthday cake.

One team came out and decided their season wouldn’t end tonight, and the other acted like theirs already had. The Celtics’ 35 first half points were their fewest in the last two years, fewer than the combined first half output of Kyrie Irving and Luka Doncic alone, and fewer than is remotely acceptable for one of the greatest teams in NBA history if they want people to keep calling them that.

The Mavericks came out swinging a bat made of titanium. Role players who had thus far been terrified to shoot came out firing off the catch, and Dereck Lively II and Daniel Gafford seemed to realize they were seven feet tall and everyone on the Celtics was not. Meanwhile, they made brisk, decisive moves and crisp, incisive decisions—never once waiting for the game to come to them like they had all series; they just went out and took it.

Meanwhile, the Celtics did not box out, did not pressure the ball, did not do anything to make their opponent uncomfortable, and did not throw even a single curveball. The game was over in the second quarter, as the Mavericks terraformed the Celtics’ once-formidable defense into a glorified layup line while Boston continued throwing 78 mile-per-hour fastballs at a wall: launching no dribble, no pass, contested threes in the face of an ever-expanding deficit.

This is essentially the basketball equivalent of asking the basketball gods to make the comeback for you. It’s almost impossible to climb out of a hole without threes, but they have to be complemented by ceaseless defense intensity. There’s no margin for error, and even three-is-more-than-two math isn’t going to create one.

But the Celtics did not make any extra effort. They were complacent, clearly content to mail this game in with USPS Priority Shipping, get the heck out of Dallas and go win the NBA Finals on their home floor. And subconsciously, Boston could not wait for an excuse to call it a night early.

And in comes long-time NBA referee Scott Foster with the perfect excuse. The officiating in the first two quarters was uneven. The Mavericks were given several benefits of the doubt that the Celtics were not afforded, including a ghost foul on Al Horford along with no-call after no-call for Boston’s drives.

And the Celtics took that excuse and bolted for the exits. Sometime around the beginning of the second quarter, they decided the officials had rigged the game against them. They hadn’t, but that didn’t matter. Suddenly Jaylen Brown and Jayson Tatum were thinking about no-calls before they even finished their attempts at the rim, and wouldn’t you know it: the ball refused to go in. There was no follow-through, only whining and disbelief—both at their own failure and at this horrid, rigged, and frankly disrespectful officiating.

And so, the Celtics went about beating themselves, plastering notices everywhere that this game would be available for free plus shipping and handling. The Mavericks took them up on the offer and won every facet of the game.

Boston’s entitlement no doubt came from their understanding that they have a home Game 5 in their back pocket, but they managed to cash in their hall pass on a game that they can learn nothing from. Other than still being up 3-1, there are no silver linings, no teachable moments, and nothing to build on going forward.

Meanwhile, they’ve given Dallas hope, and plenty to take in their carry-on luggage to Boston. Perhaps this is merely a long con to lure an overconfident Mavericks team into Boston, before crushing their souls and hoisting the trophy in front of their home fans. But all I saw was a team that didn’t want to go to work that evening. That’s unacceptable with this much on the line.