Jason Richardson couldn’t miss, and Jameer Nelson stopped to shovel his scorching-hot teammate a pass. Richardson’s primary defender was lost behind a screen, and a three-pointer would have tied the back-and-forth game at 107-107.

Except the ball never found Richardson. Before it could, there was Kevin Garnett’s spaghetti strand arm, reaching in to poke the pass away and ultimately steal it. Garnett floated a pass to Ray Allen, who was fouled and made two free throws to seal Boston’s 109-106 win.

Have you seen a better-played NBA game this season? This was Rocky vs. Apollo Creed, two heavyweights duking it out, throwing haymaker after haymaker while somehow managing to stand on their feet for a full 15 rounds — or, in this case, 48 minutes. If you look at the stats and never watched the game, you would expect two abysmal defenses forgetting rotations left and right, leaving shooters wide open and dunkers underneath the basket unimpeded. But for the majority of the night, this was just two efficient offenses getting the better of stiff defensive units.

Look at the fourth quarter. Every play was an adventure. Hedo Turkoglu would drain a fadeaway three-pointer, then Ray Allen would come back and drill one from the corner. Jameer Nelson would come off a pick-and-roll to hit an elbow jumper, then Paul Pierce would step back, up fake, and drill an and-one. Every shot had an answer, every great play was followed by its equal or better.

Think this game meant something special? Check Dwight Howard and KG, jawing at each other the whole game. Check Jason Richardson, killing himself — quite futilely — to fight over screens. Check Ray Allen, throwing out three fingers in front of the Orlando Magic bench, after a late three-point make. Check Paul Pierce, wild’ing out after his late and one. Check Stan Van Gundy, telling his players they need a little extra in a game like this. Check Doc Rivers, uncharacteristically losing his shit after Ryan Anderson — yes, Ryan Anderson — went off.

The way Boston plays with KG, you wonder how they get by when he’s not around. We talk about his defense a lot, because he’s one of the league’s best defenders and has been for 15 years. But what about the offense? These Celtics just shot 60% against the NBA’s fourth-most efficient defense. They moved the ball so splendidly, so gorgeously, so beautifully, that I almost wept tears of joy.

One play in the fourth quarter exhibited both the Garnett effect and the Celtics’ pristine offense. Ray Allen caught a pass on the right wing, outside the three-point arc. Since Ray’s hit 19 million straight jump shots since the New Year began (or something like that), Ryan Anderson decided to jump at Ray while Jason Richardson chased him to catch up. Allen, not looking to force offense despite the flames jumping from his right hand, rifled a pass to KG at the free throw line. A defender ran to stop KG, but the Celtics had numbers because Ray drew two defenders. KG mustered all his unselfishness and great court vision in his wiry body, sending a pass to the open Glen Davis underneath the hoop. Davis would not make the layup, but his free throws were a result of the C’s rare collective unselfishness.

Though the C’s gave up 106 points, I have few complaints about their defensive output. Intensity was high and, for the most part, the execution wasn’t bad. My one major qualm was this: If you single-team Dwight Howard, that’s fine. He can score 33 points and haul in 13 rebounds, and you can live with that because his teammates don’t get open for three. But when you single-team Dwight Howard and his teammates still get loose from behind the arc, there’s something wrong. You allow one to take away the other. If Howard has 33, his teammates should be tossing bricks with hands waving in their faces. If his teammates make 11 threes and shoot 41% from the land of Antoine Walker, Howard shouldn’t find scoring so easy.

But my complaints, after this night, are slim and few. The Celtics just won one of the season’s most well-played games, and they did it in a way I couldn’t have scripted any better. Garnett looked completely healthy in his return. Ray Allen continues to shoot the ball like it’s a net-seeking missile. Rondo posted yet another double-double. Glen Davis returned to his bench role with grace. Shaq continued to display a pulse. And Paul Pierce continues to be The Mother-Fucking Truth.

In the Celtics’ locker room on Friday night, Nate Robinson asked Marquis Daniels, “Who we playing on Monday?”

Daniels told him they were playing Orlando, and Robinson, who shot 2-15 against Orlando on Christmas Day, responded, “Good. I owe them [dudes].” (Note: The word Robinson actually used was one I can’t ever say, and especially not on Martin Luther King Day.)

Robinson didn’t do his part. He shot 2-8, and took a couple shots that probably had Red Auerbach rolling over in his grave.

But he and his team owed Orlando one, and, if you ask me, that debt’s been paid back. Mr. Garnett, it’s nice to have you back.

On a day when Kendrick Perkins walked through some plays in practice (and even dunked a couple times, and might even be back by late January), I finally discuss the Orlando Magic’s trades.

Why didn’t I write about them before? For a couple reasons: 1) Life sometimes interferes even with the most dedicated bloggers, and 2) I needed some time to wrap my head around the thought of Malik Allen being a number one backup center.

Okay, on to the roster overhaul. First, I have no idea whether it will work. My guess would be that it doesn’t — mostly because, for it to work, Gilbert Arenas needs to return to ’06-’07 Agent Zero, and Hedo Turkoglu needs to revert to the walking mismatch who was Orlando’s go-to playmaker in their 2009 Finals run. To expect either of them to return to their former selves requires a leap of faith I’m not ready to make.

More likely, Jason Richardson will end up being Orlando’s most important acquisition from the trades. Which is fine… unless you’re actually trying to win an NBA championship, in which case you need at least one player who can create at the end of games. Richardson isn’t that guy, and neither is the Arenas we’ve seen since his return, and neither is the zombie living in Hedo’s body the past two seasons.

It’s clear Orlando made these moves to win an NBA championship now, and to entice Dwight Howard to stick around when his contract expires. But how much closer are they to a championship? They have SO many question marks in their lineup now.

How do Jameer Nelson and Gilbert Arenas fit in the same backcourt? Who becomes the playmaker come crunch time? Can this team stop anyone? Will Dwight Howard get into more foul trouble than ever before because his perimeter defenders act as a funnel straight to him? Is the trio of Ryan Anderson, Malik Allen and Daniel Orton REALLY Orlando’s only backcourt bench help? Is one ball going to be enough for this psychotic, half-crazy (entirely crazy?), shot-happy (no pun intended for Gilbert) crew? Does Hedo Turkoglu’s heart even still beat?

Okay, so the Magic probably aren’t done trading yet. I don’t see J.J. Redick sticking around (there isn’t really a spot for him anymore), so he’ll probably get swapped for some big man help. Even so, the perimeter questions still stand. All of them. Call me crazy, but I don’t see any of these new Magicians A) fitting in well with Stan Van Gundy’s style, B) stopping a soul, or C) taking over come crunch time. In their primes, yes. But these folks aren’t in their primes anymore. In their Magic opener, Hedo (shocking nobody in Toronto or Phoenix) still sucked, and Arenas came off the bench and shot 2-11 (also shocking nobody). Will they improve with time? I assume. But don’t expect any of these guys to be stars, in Orlando. And the Magic need at least one of them to be capable of star production.

(Side note: Malik Allen played 13 minutes in his first post-trade action, registering 0 points and 1 rebound. That next trade can’t come soon enough.)

In conclusion, I like the motives behind the trades, but not the trades themselves. Otis Smith knew his Magic, as they were constructed, weren’t going to win a championship. So he pulled the trigger, drastically changing a team that was only a step shy of a championship in the first place. More GMs should be built like that. The NBA should be about winning championships, and anything else should be uncivilized.

Just take a look at the Atlanta Hawks. As presently constructed, they have zero shot of winning a championship or even coming close. But they just signed Joe Johnson for $120 million, apparently so they can continue their string of first- and second-round playoff runs for the foreseeable future. It’s like when the Celtics traded away Joe Johnson so they could rent Tony Delk and Rodney Rodgers. Sure, the trade helped them reach the Eastern Conference Finals, but I promise: no matter what happened, a lineup of Kenny Anderson, Paul Pierce, Tony Delk, Antoine Walker and Tony Battie was never taking down the Shaq-Kobe Los Angeles Lakers. What’s better — reaching the Eastern Conference Finals or keeping your most promising rookie since Paul Pierce? What’s more important — reaching a low ceiling, or trying to make that ceiling a little higher?

Back to the Magic, I admire the stones Otis Smith displayed while trying to shake things up. But the overhaul seems a lot more like Steve Kerr’s failed Shaq experiment in Phoenix, rather than the Rasheed Wallace trade that spurred Detroit to the 2004 title. Trading for big names doesn’t always equate to success, and I have a feeling Otis Smith will soon kick himself that he didn’t spend more time trying to acquire Carmelo Anthony.

Basically, the Magic traded two old, over-the-hill big names (and Marcin Gortat) for two old, over-the-hill big names (and Jason Richardson). They changed, indeed.

But are they any closer to the elusive NBA championship? I think not.

Jason Richardson found out the hard way; the rim can be just as effective as any defender.

Can anything else happen to keep the Phoenix Suns from beating the San Antonio Spurs?

After being owned by the Spurs for many years, Phoenix was finally going to get a break to go its way.  A late and careless turnover by San Antonio left Jason Richardson with a wide-open dunk.  But — in the name of Tim Duncan three-pointers and Robert Horry clotheslines — Richardson’s dunk just wasn’t to be.

Don’t worry, Jason.  As Ball Don’t Lie’s Trey Kerby points out, even your missed dunk would have won this year’s dunk contest.

Richardson should have taken a lesson from teammate Amare Stoudemire.  Dunk the damn thing.