Rondo was an absolute manimal for the Celtics, dropping 44 points, dishing 10 dimes and grabbing 8 boards on our asses (the first player to record those numbers in NBA playoffs history). To make matters worse, Rondo -- who isn't a jump shooter -- knocked down 16 of 24 shots, 12 of them from the perimeter, which is all kinds of crazy with the Cheez-Whiz.
The Undead Celtics came at the Heat with all they had left, forcing LeBron James and Dwyane Wade to become perimeter shooters, and denying them lanes to attack the basket where they earn their juice.
Wade was particularly shitty in the first half. With the Celtics basically admitting there's simply no cure for Cobradick, they decided to send constant double-teams on Wade early and often. The DP onslaught forced some bad shots from MV3, who scored only two points in the first half that didn't come until there were 23 seconds remaining before halftime. Wade looked like he had received a mysterious email from a Prince in Nigeria requesting him to send all his fucks over to a private offshore account, which would in turn double his fucks just a few weeks -- and falling for it!
The Heat found themselves trailing by 15 points in the first half, and started the second half down by seven, which ballooned up to 11.
And that's when LeBron polished off his Cobradick and shoved it into Boston's cranial cavity.
James knocked down a pair of three-pointers, which seemed to wake D-Wade up, because he followed that up with a pair of shots himself. LeBron and Wade then did their thing, namely, slaughtering all who resist them in a frenzy of exploding crotch shots that implode lower intestines and turn their enemies into sacks of ground beef.
The third quarter is where LeBron and Wade decide to eat your French fries and drink your large strawberry frosty right in front of you.
The Dynamic Duo of Worldwide Dickpunches started the rally, and then got a little help from the Badass Mothercow Mayor of 305 himself, Udonis Haslem, who completed a three-point play that gave the Heat a 73-71 lead with 2:55 remaining in the third.
It was the fifth straight time the Heat have outscored their opponent by double-digits in the third quarter. Titties!
But the Celtics are undead, and you just knew shit was going get serious and we were all going to not get any damn sleep.
Boston was able to scratch back into the game with a strong fourth quarter, led by Rondo who got a key steal and layup which gave the Celtics back the lead. With just under four minutes remaining, the Celtics led by five.
But LeBron wasn't finished. With nothing more than his ability to put the basketball in the hoop and his unquenchable desire to obliterate Celtic ass, James led the Heat on a 9-0 run, culminating again with Haslem hitting a J to put Miami back up with 1:08 remaining.
The Heat were in a position to put a bow on this puppy and call it a night when D-Wade was fouled. But he missed one of his two free throws. And then, during the ensuing possession, both Wade and James fucked the situation right in the ear hole, and got confused on their defensive rotations.
Wade gambled and tried to go for a steal of the ball.
This confused LeBron, who stepped away from the perimeter to guard the man in the paint.
This left the ONE FUCKING GUY YOU SHOULD NEVER LEAVE OPEN AT THE THREE POINT LINE wide the fuck open.
Ray Allen sunk the three-pointer, which eventually forced overtime. Noooooo.
Fortunately, Rondo was the only Celtic to score in OT. And a gassed D-Wade was able to pick up right where he left off in the third quarter: destroying any and all who got in his way in a cataclysm of profound and undaunted asshole wreckage.
And then there was this epic awesomeness:
Which leads us to the latest episode of: RONNY TURIAF ATTEMPTS TO TALK TRASH AND THEN RANDOMLY BREAKS INTO DANCE!:
The Heat survived what was probably Boston's best punch. Thanks to huge games from LeBron, Wade, Haslem and MARIO GODDAMN CHALMERS.
Of course all the talk today will be how the refs didn't call a foul because the whole world hates your team and refuses to acknowledge their superiority.
So here's a quick rebuttal to all the "the NBA IS FIXED DURRRRP" talk: Eat a dick.
Game 3 is in Boston on Friday night. Tipoff is 8:30.