The Celtics Were Supposed to Be Untouchable. Now They’re Just Unraveling

**The Celtics Were Supposed to Be Untouchable. Now They’re Just Unraveling.**

 

The Boston Celtics were never supposed to be in this position.

They were the defending champions. The deepest, most versatile roster in the league. The gold standard of continuity in a league that thrives on chaos. They had it all — star power, bench production, playoff scars turned into championship rings.

They weren’t just the team to beat — they were the team no one *could* beat.

Now?

They’re down 0–2 to the New York Knicks, a team they handled in the regular season, a team still searching for its postseason identity. And they’ve blown *20-point leads* in back-to-back games.

This isn’t just a stumble. It’s a free fall, and Bill Simmons sees the storm brewing.

> “I hate to use this word,” Simmons said on his podcast after Game 2, “but there’s been an **arrogance** to the Celtics that comes out at the worst possible times.”

He’s not wrong. The warning signs were there. The Celtics didn’t just lose these games — they refused to adjust while losing them. The offense went flat. The defensive intensity vanished. And the coaching staff looked like they were watching the house burn down with their arms crossed.

**A Stubborn Identity**

Twice now, Boston has built commanding leads. And twice, they’ve watched those leads evaporate in real time while doing… nothing.

No timeouts to stop momentum. No strategic tweaks. Just a team stubbornly married to its own blueprint.

> “This is who we are. We shoot threes. We don’t need a timeout. We’ll just have Tatum go to the basket,” Simmons mocked.

He was referencing Joe Mazzulla’s increasingly criticized approach to in-game management — or lack thereof.

The Celtics’ identity has become a mantra. Space the floor. Let Tatum or Brown isolate. Kick to the corners. Trust the math. Don’t panic.

But math doesn’t account for emotion. It doesn’t account for rhythm, energy, or the feel of a playoff game. And right now, it’s Mazzulla’s rigidity — his belief that the system will self-correct — that’s suffocating this team.

> “Joe Mazzulla’s system isn’t bending,” Simmons added. “It’s *breaking*.”

**Rotational Rot**

And then there’s the rotation.

It’s one thing to trust your veterans. It’s another to lean on 37-year-old Al Horford to close out games while Payton Pritchard, the NBA’s Sixth Man of the Year, collects dust on the bench.

> “I really think Pritchard should have been out there for at least one of those games over Horford,” Simmons argued.

Pritchard is one of the few Celtics capable of breaking the monotony when the offense stalls. He’s fearless, he pushes the tempo, and he hits big shots. But apparently, that’s not enough when loyalty takes precedence over logic.

Meanwhile, Horford, as valuable as he’s been across his career, is showing signs of wear. He’s slower to close out, hesitant to shoot, and struggling to keep up with the Knicks’ younger, hungrier bigs. Yet, in crunch time, he’s still the trusted vet on the floor.

It’s not just a Mazzulla problem. It’s a culture problem.

A culture of entitlement.

**Echoes of Belichick**

Bill Simmons wasn’t alone in sounding the alarm. Even his father, Bill Simmons Sr., drew parallels to a different Boston dynasty — one that also collapsed under the weight of its own ego.

> “Belichick used to do the same thing,” Simmons Sr. said. “It doesn’t matter that we lost the game.”

That’s the ghost haunting Boston right now — the belief that winning *once* means your process is always right.

Mazzulla has parroted that exact sentiment in postgame pressers: *“Trust the process. Gotta keep going. Gotta be on to Game 3.”*

And Simmons isn’t buying it.

> “This isn’t about panic,” he said. “It’s about **pride clouding judgment**.”

There’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance. Between trusting your system and refusing to adapt. And the Celtics — right now — are on the wrong side of that line.

**Jayson Tatum: Hero Mode or Bust**

At the heart of Boston’s stagnation is its star: Jayson Tatum.

Tatum has MVP-caliber talent. He’s a matchup nightmare, a three-level scorer, and a capable defender when engaged. But too often, when the offense starts to sputter, he leans into “hero mode” — isolation after isolation, hoping his shot will bail the team out.

It worked for stretches last postseason. It’s not working now.

New York has thrown bodies at him, dared others to beat them, and waited for Boston to self-destruct. And so far, that’s exactly what’s happened.

There’s no fluidity. No motion. No improvisation.

This offense, as dangerous as it can be, is predictable. And the Knicks are simply outworking it.

**Knicks Culture Check**

Credit where it’s due: The Knicks have shown more poise, more urgency, and more *coaching acumen* than Boston so far.

Tom Thibodeau has pushed every right button. Jalen Brunson is controlling tempo like a seasoned veteran. Josh Hart is doing all the little things. And the Madison Square Garden crowd smells blood in the water.

This Knicks team is hungry.

Boston? They look like they just expected to win.

**The Danger of the Mirror**

Great teams evolve. They respond to adversity. They self-scout and self-correct. They understand that last year’s ring is just that — last year’s.

The Celtics, right now, are playing like a team stuck in their own reflection.

They’ve seen the highlights. They’ve heard the praise. They know what they’re *supposed* to be. But there’s a danger in staring too long into the mirror.

You stop seeing the cracks.

> “Championship DNA doesn’t mean a thing if you stop evolving,” Simmons said.

Exactly.

Being the defending champs doesn’t protect you from bad habits. It magnifies them. And Boston’s bad habits are now front and center:

* Inflexible coaching.
* Static offense.
* Blind trust in a broken formula.
* A belief that talent alone will win out.

It won’t.

Not in May. Not against a team that wants it more.

**Game 3: Gut Check Time**

Now, down 0–2, the Celtics head back to TD Garden not just facing a must-win — but facing an identity crisis.

Do they believe their own hype? Or do they finally acknowledge what’s been plain to see?

This is not the same Celtics team that hoisted the trophy last year.

That team was resilient, disciplined, and dynamic. This one is entitled, inflexible, and afraid to pivot.

Game 3 isn’t just about keeping the series alive. It’s about proving they still *are* who they say they are.

Because right now? They’re playing like a dynasty in denial.

And dynasties in denial don’t get repeat parades.

–

The Boston Celtics were supposed to be untouchable.

Defending champs. Deepest roster. The team to beat.

Now? Down 0-2 to the Knicks—and Bill Simmons sees the storm brewing.

“I hate to use this word… but there’s been an arrogance to the Celtics that comes out at the worst possible times.” – Bill Simmons

Up 20 points in both games. No timeouts. No adjustments. Just stubborn basketball.

“This is who we are. We shoot threes. We don’t need a timeout. We’ll just have Tatum go to the basket.”

Joe Mazzulla’s system isn’t bending—it’s breaking.

Big Al Horford keeps closing games. 6th Man of the Year Payton Pritchard? Glued to the bench.

“I really think Pritchard should have been out there for at least one of those games over Horford.”

And Simmons isn’t the only one who’s seen this movie before.

“Belichick used to do the same thing. It doesn’t matter that we lost the game.” – Bill Simmons Sr.

“Trust the process, gotta keep going, got to be on to Game 3.” – Simmons, mocking Belichick

This isn’t about panic. It’s about pride clouding judgment.

Championship DNA doesn’t mean a thing if you stop evolving.

Boston isn’t playing like a dynasty right now — They’re playing like a team stuck in their own reflection.

—

**Title: The Celtics’ Reflection Problem: Arrogance, Stubbornness, and a System on the Brink**

**I. Introduction:**
*The Celtics were supposed to be untouchable. Defending champs. Deepest roster. The team to beat. Now? Down 0-2 to the Knicks, with the series slipping into something far more troubling than just two bad nights.*

Bill Simmons, the voice of so many Boston fans, didn’t hold back:

> “I hate to use this word… but there’s been an arrogance to the Celtics that comes out at the worst possible times.”

It’s not panic Boston needs. It’s humility.

**II. The Collapse, Twice:**

Twice in two games, Boston built 20-point leads.
Twice, they crumbled.

No timeouts. No course correction. Just blind trust in a system that refuses to adjust. Joe Mazzulla’s mantra has become a liability:

> “This is who we are. We shoot threes. We don’t need a timeout. We’ll just have Tatum go to the basket.”

It worked in November. It worked in April. But this is May. Playoff basketball breaks systems that refuse to bend.

**III. The Mazzulla Problem: System > Feel**

Mazzulla has always been a system-first coach. He believes in habits, not feel. But the problem is when those habits get exposed, especially by a team like the Knicks—gritty, disciplined, relentless.

Where’s the in-game awareness? Why is 38-year-old Al Horford closing games while Payton Pritchard, the newly minted Sixth Man of the Year, rides the pine?

> “I really think Pritchard should have been out there for at least one of those games over Horford,” Simmons said. And he’s right.

The best coaches adapt. Erik Spoelstra, Ty Lue—those guys win chess matches. Mazzulla still seems like he’s reading from the same playbook that got him here. Only now, it’s being weaponized against him.

**IV. Tatum and Brown: Stars Without a Spark**

Jayson Tatum’s box scores look fine. Jaylen Brown has moments. But this isn’t about numbers—it’s about control. Swagger. Urgency.

Tatum’s passive stretches and Brown’s erratic decisions highlight a leadership vacuum. When the game spirals, Boston looks around—and finds no one talking.

That used to be Marcus Smart’s role. He barked, cajoled, fought. Derrick White and Jrue Holiday are upgrades on the court. But emotionally? The fire’s out.

**V. Echoes of Belichick: Pride Before the Fall**

> “Belichick used to do the same thing. It doesn’t matter that we lost the game,” Simmons Sr. told his son.

It’s not that far off. The Celtics sound like a team quoting process over results.

> “Trust the process, gotta keep going, got to be on to Game 3,” Simmons mocked, his voice laced with frustration.

This isn’t Foxborough. Process is good, but playoff basketball is reactive. If you’re not changing, you’re dying. And Boston’s system—built on threes, spacing, and ego—is dying under the weight of its own refusal to evolve.

**VI. Championship DNA? Or Stubborn Identity?**

There’s a difference between identity and inflexibility. Right now, Boston is clinging to the latter.

> “This is who we are.”
> Then who are you?

A team that blows 20-point leads? A team that doesn’t call timeouts? A team that values a system over instincts?

That’s not championship DNA. That’s self-inflicted collapse.

**VII. The Knicks’ Role: Dogs on a Mission**

And give the Knicks credit. This isn’t all Boston.

Jalen Brunson has outplayed Tatum in clutch moments. Josh Hart and Donte DiVincenzo are defending like their lives depend on it. Tom Thibodeau has Boston’s playbook in his back pocket, and he’s circling every weakness with a red marker.

But they shouldn’t be up 2-0. Not against *this* Celtics team. Not against a roster that was hailed as one of the deepest and most versatile in modern NBA history.

**VIII. The Road Ahead: Evolution or Erosion**

Down 0-2, Boston returns home. The crowd will roar. The Garden will shake. But unless something shifts—not just on the court, but in the *mentality*—this series is heading toward disaster.

Maybe Game 3 is the wake-up call.

Or maybe it’s the mirror finally breaking.

—