Every once in a while, the world of sports can still surprise you.

The goal of every team, every year, is to win a championship.  However, once in a while a playoff series or single game can make a season by its lonesome.  For example...

Steve McNair and Peyton Manning winning co-MVP awards, then having the Patriots, led by Tom Brady whom many people thought deserved the award due to having a great season with every viable receiving option getting injured during the season, storm through them on the way to a Super Bowl victory.

The next season, when the Patriots stormed through the playoffs en route to their second consecutive Super Bowl.  In the first round, they held the Colts #1 offense to an entire three points with a defensive backfield in tatters, then put up 41 on the Steelers' #1 defense.  Both years, the Super Bowl victories were practically gravy after the Patriots were all but counted out.  People couldn't stop raving about McNair, or the magnificent Peyton Manning, or how the "New Steel Curtain" couldn't be scored upon, or how New England's secondary didn't stand a chance against the awesome power of the Colts' high-powered offense.  It made the victories so sweet they probably deserved their own parades.

In 2004, the Red Sox pulled off a part-miraculous, part-true-grit victory after dropping the first three games of a seven game series against their hated rivals.  By the time the Sox were done trouncing the Cardinals in the World Series, Boston fans had been on Cloud 9 for a week.  Whatever beautiful drug winning a championship after 86 years of disappointment feels like, we were used to its effects by the time it actually happened.

Then there was this series.

I had totally and completely prepared myself for an early playoff exit once it was reported that Kevin Garnett got promoted (or demoted) to head cheerleader for the rest of the 2008-2009 campaign.  Even with Pierce healthy (albeit cripplingly exhausted), Ray-Ray shooting as great as ever, and a decent supporting cast, I had no hopes for this team, this year.  After all, even if they got by the first two rounds, was there any chance they'd get by Cleveland?  Yeah, I didn't think so, either.

So when this series turned out to be the greatest first-round series (and right up there with the greatest series of any kind) ever played, it was a surprising treat.  The Bulls had everything they needed to spawn a rivalry out of thin air, and they did not disappoint.  I now despise half of this Bulls team, most of all Joakim Noah.  I know I'm not alone here, and I know it's been said numerous times before in everyday conversation and in writing, but I HATE Joakim Noah.  His completely uninfectious enthusiasm for rebounding, dunking, and fouling people is enough to make my skin crawl right off my body.

By the time Noah made his "I can't beLIEVE you guys called that!" face after he grabbed Rajon Rondo by the face from behind (on which he was incredibly lucky he didn't get a flagrant foul), I was wishing awful things on him I don't even have the heart to write.

Which brings me, briefly, to officiating.  Now, normally I don't complain much about officiating unless it is so apparently bad that it affects the outcome of a game.  But by the end of last night's game, Tommy Heinsohn's take on the officials was even starting to make sense.

It started when Paul Pierce was called for a foul when Kirk Heinrich dribbled the ball off of his foot, tripped over his own ankle and fell out of bounds.  Pierce wasn't within a foot of him when it happened, but apparently he made Heinrich suck at dribbling.  Whatever, bad calls happen.

But, when Kendrick Perkins got T'd up when Brad Miller came down hard on him, and Kendrick Perkins seemingly did nothing but walk away, clutching his bad shoulder, I fully expected to see Heinsohn come charging in from the scorer's table like George Brett in the Pine Tar Game.  It was mind-boggling.

The thing most perplexing about this series was the lack of shock and awe surrounding the performance of Rajon Rondo.  With everyone so enamored with Derrick Rose and his out-of-this-world athletic ability, Rondo's historically incredible series fell by the wayside.  Let's take a quick look at the point guard comparison:

Rajon Rondo:  19.4 points, 9.3 rebounds, 11.6 assists, 2.7 steals, 2.1 turnovers

Derrick Rose:  19.7 points, 6.3 rebounds, 6.4 assists, 0.6 steals, 5 turnovers

That's not only in Rondo's favor, it's not even close.  causing two more turnovers per game and giving away three less is nothing to breeze past.  That's not even mentioning the significant differences in rebounding and creating shots for his teammates.  An enormous part of this Celtics series win was Rondo dominating the point guard matchup.  Talk about Rose's blocked shot on Rondo in game 6 all you want, I can copy/paste this line to anyone and everyone if I have to.

While we're making disparaging remarks about Bulls players, I'd like to talk about Joakim Noah again, if you don't mind.

While his final line from the series (10 points, 13 boards, 2 blocks) is very similar to our lovable big fella (Kendrick Perkins:  13.3 points, 11.6 rebounds, 3 blocks), he entrenched himself as perhaps the biggest playoff whiner (not a typo) of all time.  I'd also like to point out that had Kevin Garnett been playing, Noah's rebounds may have been cut in half.  Sorry, I've disliked him since he was at Florida.  I really don't like him, but I'm done now.  I promise.

So, with the bigs matching up very close, and the shooting guards eerily similar:

Ben Gordon:  24.3, 2.9, 3

Ray Allen:  23.4, 3.1, 2.1

What was the difference maker?  Clearly nothing definitive, as the 7 game series had exactly 7 overtime periods, including two double-OT's and one triple-OT, but it was enough to finally claim victory.  The answer is a two-part one.

If you think of it as a math equation, shooting guards Allen and Gordon cancel each other out, with Noah and Perk doing the same, throw in Brad MIller and Big Baby Davis beating each other up and ending up with similar statistics as well (not great, and WAY too many fouls), x = Paul Pierce and Rajon Rondo.  Tyrus Thomas, although throwing his significant size around blocking shots and grabbing rebounds, was no match for the all-around game of Pierce, and Rondo took it to Rose every which way possible.  And dear god, was it fun to watch.

Now, the Celts turn their attention to Orlando, with Darth Howard looming on every potential drive to the basket in the very near future.  After a few games of watching Howard block shots twelve rows into the stands, I can't wait to see whether he passes Joakim Noah on my list of most-hated playoff opponents.  One can only hope this series is as memorable as the last.

Though, how could it possibly?