The National Basketball Association (NBA) can sell fans all the new rivalries it wants. It can introduce fresh faces, build new superteams, and give avid followers of the pro scene another generation of stars to argue about. But every now and then, a game comes along to remind all and sundry that the league’s best stories are often rooted in old grudges. The Celtics and Sixers have never needed much encouragement to dislike each other, and, the other day, they gave the rivalry another chapter, with Jaylen Brown and Paul George making sure the basketball did most of the talking.
The pregame exchange was awkward enough to become a story of its own. Jayson Tatum approached Brown with what appeared to be a routine greeting, offering a tap on the shoulder and a chest bump. His former teammate declined the invitation, in the process reducing nine seasons of partnership, two NBA Finals appearances, five Eastern Conference finals trips, and a championship in 2024 to an uncomfortable moment. The former Celtic had spent the weeks leading up to the reunion making comments that fueled speculation about their relationship. Neither appeared interested in pretending that the separation had been entirely painless. And perhaps that is what made the encounter compelling. Professional sports are full of players who move from one team to another, but when a partnership ends with unresolved feelings, the first meeting carries a different weight. It is no longer just another date on the schedule. It becomes an opportunity to settle a score, even if nobody is willing to admit that one exists.
The basketball, however, did not follow the script Brown might have wanted. He managed just 13 points, picking up early fouls and committing four turnovers. Meanwhile, Tatum finished with 21, six, and four, providing ample support for Paul George, who returned to familiar digs with a performance that made the evening his. He poured in 36 points, connecting on six three-pointers and taking control when the Celtics needed to put the game away. His fourth-quarter eruption was decisive, and the Sixers had no answer. Ironically, the contest had been promoted as a showdown between two former championship teammates who had gone their separate ways. Instead, the star who had left Philadelphia for Boston became the evening’s biggest attraction. There was no need for a personal feud to generate motivation. A ball and an opportunity were enough.
George’s performance also gave the Celtics a glimpse of how the new arrangement can work. Tatum no longer has to shoulder every offensive burden, and George has shown that he can still deliver at an elite level when given room to operate. The two appear comfortable sharing the floor and responsibilities, with one embracing a role that allows the other to remain the central figure. And for the Sixers, it is a reminder of what they gave up. Brown is an accomplished player, a Finals Most Valuable Player capable of carrying an offense, but replacing one vital cog with another is not simply a matter of comparing statistics. Chemistry, roles, timing, and the willingness to accept a new hierarchy all matter.
In any case, one match does not make up the entire story. Brown will have other opportunities to face the Celtics, and there is no reason to believe he will remain subdued; he is too talented and too competitive for that. Tatum, meanwhile, has little reason to get drawn into a public exchange about what happened between them; the other day, the response on the floor was more than enough. To be sure, the NBA has become increasingly comfortable selling personal rivalries, turning social media exchanges, cryptic remarks, and pregame encounters into promotional material. And it works because hoops habitues enjoy the human drama behind the numbers. There is an overriding need to know who likes whom, who feels slighted, who believes he was not appreciated, and who gets the last laugh.
Needless to say, the Celtics and Sixers have enough history to sustain their rivalry without needing a personal dispute between former teammates to keep it alive. Their meetings have invariably carried the weight of geography, playoff disappointments, and the familiar discomfort of seeing neighbors succeed. The latest chapter simply added another layer. There will be more meetings, more opportunities for Brown to answer his former team, and more occasions for Tatum and George to show that their partnership works. The season is long and rivalries do not end after one encounter; if anything, they become more interesting. And the next time the protagonists meet, everybody and his mother need not be told to watch.
Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994. He is a consultant on strategic planning, operations and human resources management, corporate communications, and business development.