I noticed the orange and blue darting among the spring green leafy ferns.
It wasn’t an exotic bird. It was a boy of about 12 wearing a Knicks jersey as he waited for his mother to select some shade plants for her garden.
Being a Boston girl all my life (well, the North Shore), I grew up surrounded by Celtics green. I know little about the game of basketball itself, yet I can still hear the sound of the games wafting through the air of my mother’s house as the extended family rooted for Larry Bird and company.
I expressed mock dismay at the boy’s Knicks colors, and he smiled politely. His mom said that she and her husband, who had settled here, were New Yorkers by way of New Jersey. She admitted Boston was the better team.
We left the garden center — no, not that Garden — and as the days and games passed, I wondered what the boy thought of it all. Were we the better team? Many people seemed to think so. But the boy with the Knicks jersey must be in heaven over his team having advanced to the conference finals instead of the Celtics. I imagine he’s wearing his orange and blue with pride and joy.
And we Celtics fans will put away our own jerseys and look ahead to greener pastures next season.
Cynthia Calabrese
Newbury