Celtics aren't sorry to be repetitive

BOSTON'S VULNERABILITIES

The Celtics' positives greatly outweigh their negatives. Their versatile offense (anchored by Pierce) and their well-coordinated defense (even though it lacks an outstanding shot-blocker and a stopper) are good enough for Boston to have an excellent chance to be the first repeat champs since the Shaq-and-Kobe show.

Straight shooting

The Knicks are going about this whole Stephon Marbury situation in the worst possible way.

Obviously, trading him is proving to be impossible.

Fines and suspensions are merely flimsy Band-Aids fruitlessly attempting to stanch a franchise-threatening open wound.

Buying him out — even at the reduced rate of $20 million — is like burning money. A sinful waste in the best of times, but an absolute tragedy with the economy in the tank.

However, there is one foolproof and mutually beneficial way out of this mess: Donating Marbury to some charity!

By doing so, the Knicks would get a huge income tax deduction that would certainly be welcomed. And Marbury could do something truly useful — something that he's certainly failed to accomplish during his NBA career.

The only problem is selecting the appropriate charity.

He could lend his talents to some kind of organization that aids the unemployed. Marbury could then teach all concerned how to make lots of money by doing nothing.

Actually, the Salvation Army seems to be the best fit.

In its band, Marbury would get to beat his own drum as loudly and as often as he wishes.

Best of all, he'd make a terrific Santa Claus, thereby enticing passers-by to joyfully fill the familiar Christmas-time pots with large bills and even larger personal checks.

Vox populi

Many people are talking about the possibility of an injury wrecking Greg Oden's career. Who do you think is the best player ever to have his playing days either terminated or severely diminished by injuries? A few players come to mind: Bill Walton, Ralph Sampson, Grant Hill, Larry Johnson and Anfernee Hardaway. In fact, I believe that Hardaway would have been a Hall of Famer if not for injuries. Kristian, Brisbane, Australia

Hardaway was about as soft as a bag of feathers. He could score in isolation situations, on the run and with mid-range jumpers. He lacked shooting range and was strictly a finesse defender. Hey, but if over-hyped big-numbers guys like Walt Bellamy, David Thompson, and Connie Hawkins can get in, maybe there's room for Hardaway.

Sampson was even softer than Hardaway and belongs in the Hall of Shame for wasting so much size and talent.

Hill's career was definitely curtailed by a series of incapacitating injuries. If he'd remained healthy, he'd be the certified Hall of Famer here.

Larry Johnson was a guy who put up big numbers for bad teams. And except for his miraculous four-point play that won a playoff game for the Knicks, LJ was a big-time choker and ball hog, as well as a small-time defender.

Walton would clearly head yours and anybody else's list. In truth, he played less than three full seasons at his full capacity (1975-78) — and during that time his leg and foot miseries caused him to miss a total of 95 games.

But I'd also add Willis Reed, Joe Caldwell, Ossie Schectman, Kevin Johnson and Bernard King.

Travels with Charley

Here's a good-news CBA Thanksgiving story.

In his rookie year with the Bulls (1986-87), Pete Myers played only 155 minutes in 29 games. He actually spent most of that season getting abused by Michael Jordan in practice. In any case, Pete was totally distraught when he was cut in training camp that following year. So overcome with grief that he holed up in his hotel room for days.

I was coaching the Rockford Lightning at the time and, after several phone calls, convinced Pete to resume his career in the CBA.

He was adopted (and soothed and encouraged) by the always gregarious Fred Cofield. It didn't take long for Pete to revert to the friendly, vivacious person he naturally was. Not to mention that he was a terrific player — an excellent driver, runner and finisher; and despite his chicken-wing release, an adequate jump shooter. But his specialty was playing downright awesome on-the-ball defense (after he returned to the NBA, he was the only guy I ever saw who could consistently stay in front of Allen Iverson).

Anyway, we were in Rapid City, S.D., preparing to play the hometown Thrillers on Thanksgiving Day. In order to maximize the audience for the nationally-televised game, the scheduled start was 11:00 a.m. local time.

So I took Pete aside after a brief practice session Wednesday and told him that this was a golden opportunity for him to get back into the league. Come game time, everybody else would be somewhat logy from over-indulging their early holiday feasts. Plus the early jump ball would likewise make it difficult for both friends and foes to be alert and at the top of their games. I therefore advised Pete to eat lightly, go to bed early, and be ready to play like a house-on-fire from the opening tip.

Which he did.

Numerous NBA scouts, general managers and coaches watched as Pete simply took over the game. Scoring points by the dozen, making slick assist passes and even hitting a pair of long-range jumpers. But, most of all, they couldn't help being totally impressed when he victimized his slightly dazed opponents for 12 steals.

Within days, he was called up to San Antonio. And discounting another brief sojourn in the CBA, Pete wound up playing a total of nine seasons in the NBA. And he's still there, as an amiable and always helpful assistant coach with the Bulls.

Pete Myers is a sterling example of good things happening to good people — even during a CBA Thanksgiving.