This column originally ran in The Standard-Times on Nov. 3, 2006.

By Nick Tavares

I have a long-standing craving for history. No matter what piques my interest, I obsessively search for everything I can find on what made a particular event happen. Take the Civil War ... it was far more than slavery that pitted the two halves of the nation against each other.

At a young age, the Celtics had my attention and launched my sports fascination. Larry Bird was running around in a back brace, Kevin McHale and Robert Parish were still good but no longer great, and Reggie Lewis was the most exciting player on the court.

They were solid, fun to watch, and most importantly, good.

And at just about every game, there was an older, shorter guy chomping on a cigar sitting in the stands.

Red Auerbach was the man responsible for every good moment in Boston Celtics history. I distinctly remember bragging to some of fifth-graders that the Celtics had won eight titles in a row in the '60s, and that the Celtics had more championships than anyone else in basketball. No one really cared back then, but I was fascinated that my favorite team once held the league by the jugular, and that Red was the man to credit for their success.

There's too many stories to list. Trading up in the draft and giving the keys to Bill Russell in 1956. Drafting Larry Bird a year early. Swinging Parish and McHale in the same trade. Shipping Cedric Maxwell to Los Angeles for Bill Walton for one last title in 1986.

Red left us last week. And in his wake, he left a team that's been reeling for the better part of 15 years. There have been glimpses of success, but mostly losses and disappointment.

So there, on Wednesday night, the new-look Celtics and legends of old gathered to pay their respects to the team's patriarch.

And to center court walked Paul Pierce, one of those singular rays of hope for the past nine seasons. Pierce has left no doubt how he feels about the franchise and his place in it — he loves the team, loves the city, loves the tradition and is more than willing to carry the team on his back. He's a text-book captain, and he felt Red's impact.

Pierce took the microphone, extolled his love of Red, and the awe he felt at both being in his presence and being a member of the Celtics. He had a request of the crowd that night

"I know Red would've wanted to hear it. So let's have a 'Let's Go Celtics' chant for Red."

And the crowd's reaction?

"..."

"— Let's um who?"

Only a tiny fraction tried, and they weren't even in sync. Fifteen seconds later, it was over.

Wow. Inspiring.

But that's the Celtics now. Their grip on the region is long gone, replaced by a stranglehold on mediocrity. The fans aren't nearly as passionate as they once were ... the byproduct of losing. And it's hard not to feel like Pierce's prime is being wasted in Boston.

With Red's death, the glory days have never felt farther behind. The first pro team I took as my own has been treading water for my entire adult life, and while the promise of young talent lies ahead, the present looks bleak.

Hopefully, the Celtics will honor Red with more than a sewn-on patch. Hopefully, they'll play above their heads, dash predictions and make noise in the playoffs.

Then, maybe, the fans will remember how to chant for a winner.

Nick Tavares is a columnist for The Standard-Times. Contact him at ntavares@s-t.com

Date of Publication November 03, 2006 on Page C05