BOSTON, MA — When two heavyweights collide, sparks fly. And boy, did they fly last night at TD Garden, where the Boston Celtics handed the Cleveland Cavaliers their first L of the season in a physical, thrilling 120-117 showdown. It wasn’t just basketball; it was a battle of wills, muscle, and a sprinkle of drama fit for Broadway.
The defending champs, led by the dynamic duo of Jaylen Brown and Jayson Tatum, turned what could have been a routine Tuesday into a basketball masterclass. Think ballet, but with more bumping and bruises—and maybe a shove or two for good measure.
Celtics Dominate, Then Dilly-Dally
Boston’s first half was the equivalent of a fireworks display: loud, colorful, and leaving everyone saying, “How do they do that?” Tatum and Brown bullied their way to the rim like they had VIP passes, while the Cavaliers looked as confused as someone trying to assemble IKEA furniture without instructions.
Then came the third quarter. For some reason, the Celtics decided to play hot potato with their 21-point lead. Cleveland’s Donovan Mitchell clapped his way into the fourth quarter like a coach yelling, “Wake up, guys!” And it worked—for a minute.
Tatum and Brown: The Real “Bash Brothers”
When the going got tough, Boston’s All-Star wings flexed their metaphorical (and literal) muscles. They turned the Cavaliers’ defense into Swiss cheese, exposing every hole with drives, free throws, and rim-rattling finishes.
Joe Mazzulla, Boston’s head coach and part-time philosopher, put it best: “I hope teams keep being physical because it just gets us reps.” Translation? Bring it on.
By the fourth quarter, Tatum and Brown were living at the free-throw line. In fact, their physicality could’ve earned them a spot on a rugby team. Brown even played post-up maestro, treating smaller defenders like a big brother swatting away a younger sibling. Poor Darius Garland—he’s probably filing a formal complaint against gravity after being bumped and bruised all night.
Cavs Missing Their Bodyguards
Now, let’s be fair: Cleveland was running a skeleton crew. With Dean Wade, Isaac Okoro, and Caris LeVert out, their rotation lacked the height and heft to keep up with Boston’s battering rams.
Sam Merrill, bless his soul, did his best to keep Tatum from the rim early on. And for a fleeting moment, it looked like he might succeed. Spoiler: He didn’t. Tatum didn’t even need to score to make the Cavs sweat; his mere existence had defenders scrambling like ants near spilled soda.
Muscle Meets Mind
This wasn’t just about brute force, though. Brown, channeling his inner chess grandmaster, made play after play by patiently dissecting Cleveland’s defense. A simple bump here, a nifty pass there, and voila—easy buckets for his teammates. Neemias Queta, for example, owes Brown a thank-you card for that clutch baseline setup.
It’s the kind of poise that’s turning Boston’s stars into bona fide closers. Gone are the days when the Celtics folded like cheap lawn chairs in crunch time. They’re older, stronger, and apparently allergic to letting leads slip away—at least most of the time.
What’s Cooking in Boston?
Mazzulla, ever the perfectionist, wasn’t entirely satisfied despite snapping Cleveland’s 15-game win streak. “We were physical the entire game, which I care more about,” he said, sprinkling in some coach-speak about details and toughness. Translation? Good job, not great job.
Even Brown admitted, “We could have played a whole lot better.” But hey, nitpicking after beating an undefeated team? That’s a champagne problem.
Takeaways: Bully Ball Is Back
For Celtics fans, this game was a reminder: Tatum and Brown aren’t just scoring machines—they’re physical forces of nature. The duo combined for 12 fourth-quarter points, all earned through grit and grind. Brown’s career-high free-throw attempt rate isn’t a fluke; it’s a weapon.
Meanwhile, the Cavs learned the hard way that stopping Boston’s offense is like trying to stop a tidal wave with a beach umbrella. Even when they did everything right, the Celtics just found another way to score.
As Al Horford put it, the win wasn’t about proving anything to the league. “It’s just about us,” he said. Spoken like a team with bigger fish to fry—or maybe bigger streaks to break.
For now, the Celtics remain the league’s bully-ball kings. Cleveland? Better luck next time. Maybe bring more muscle.
