Two days after reports that Kendrick Perkins routinely criticized teammate Russell Westbrook during the past season, reports from Oklahoma City described a mini training camp the Thunder held last week at the University of Texas. Two-thirds of the Thunder participated in the workouts, ten players. Nazr Mohammed called their games “the best pickup games in America,” and the Thunder used what could have been a wasted summer to step a little closer to an NBA championship.

All of which begs the question: should fans be concerned that the Boston Celtics haven’t met once this offseason?

Many teams have organized offseason workouts. Mike Conley brought the Grizzlies together. Amare Stoudemire rallied the Knicks. Durant rounded up the Thunder. But the Celtics have yet to gather in the same area.

Last week Kevin Garnett suggested he would plan a Celtics get-together soon, but his details were vague and the plan hardly seemed like one of his priorities. He said, “I’m going actually to the East Coast sometime soon and I am actually going to try to get everybody together just to be in the same area.” But when and where were not mentioned, and Garnett even admitted the workout likely would not consist of more than four or five players.

The problems are in geography and numbers. Garnett and Pierce live in California, and Pierce spent time barnstorming in China. Jermaine O’Neal and Avery Bradley work out in Las Vegas. Ray Allen was most recently spotted in Connecticut. E’Twaun Moore is playing professionally in Italy. JaJuan Johnson, based on his tweets, spends most of his time in Indiana. Rajon Rondo is working out at the University of Kentucky, sometimes with Lebron James. Glen Davis, Delonte West and Jeff Green aren’t officially Celtics. Neither are Nenad Krstic, Carlos Arroyo, Von Wafer, Sasha Pavlovic or Troy Murphy — Krstic left to Russia, Carlos Arrroyo competed with the Puerto Rican National Team this summer, and Wafer, Pavlovic and Murphy presumably are still picking splinters from their rumps and having nightmares of the end of Boston’s bench.

With only seven players under contract (eight if you include E’Twaun Moore, a second-round pick who does not have a guaranteed contract), the Celtics could not possibly host a ten-man mini training camp like the Thunder did. But meeting at least a few times, if only so JaJuan Johnson could have heard Kevin Garnett’s advice or Avery Bradley could have asked Rajon Rondo some questions about running a team, would have been beneficial. Instead, the Celtics — led by so many veterans, who we assumed would remain unfazed by the lockout, if only because the main Celtics already experienced one in 1998 and should have learned from it — have allowed the summer to disconnect them and leave them scattered across the country, working out (or not working out, you never know) mostly on their own.

It’s nothing to worry about, at least not yet, as the Celtics still have plentiful experience together and don’t necessarily need extra reps like the young Thunder or Grizzlies do. But you have to admit — you would have preferred that the Celtics spend at least a portion of this summer together as a team, working out, bonding, and pulling a successful season just a little bit closer to their embrace.

When the Goodman League competes against the Indy Pro-Am on Sept. 24,  Celtics draft pick JaJuan Johnson will reportedly suit up for the Indy Pro-Am squad. He will compete against Jeff Green, who could potentially be Johnson’s teammate whenever the NBA returns.

John Wall, Kevin Durant, Michael Beasley and DeMarcus Cousins have all committed to join Green in representation of the Goodman League, according to separate reports by Mike Wells and Michael Lee. Johnson’s Indy Pro-Am team will reportedly also include Zach Randolph, Mike Conley, Eric Gordon, George Hill, Lance Stephenson and Gordon Hayward.

Note: I am about to ramble about Gordon Hayward for a short period of time, just because his name triggered some great NBA League Pass memories. Bear with me.

On April 5, 2011, Hayward put on one of last season’s least-expected shows, metaphorically staring Kobe Bryant straight in the eyes until Kobe blinked.

Two nights before, Hayward had established a career high of 19 points against the Sacramento Kings, but nothing about his bland rookie season signaled that Hayward was ready to build on the career night, especially not against the Los Angeles Lakers. The Jazz had played the Lakers earlier in the week and Hayward was both inefficient and  unproductive. He finished the game with 7 points on 3-9 shooting, playing 29 minutes and barely putting his fingerprints on the game. The Jazz lost after leading by 17 points and Hayward scored only two points in the second half, an alley-oop from Earl Watson after the game was already out of reach.

The Lakers were on a typical tear, winning 17 of their past 19 games, and the Jazz were somewhere between listless and helpless, losers of eight straight, a franchise in shambles after Jerry Sloan’s retirement and Deron Williams’s trade, a franchise watching idly as the memories of two great decades burned slowly to the ground. Al Jefferson was acquired in the offseason, but he and Paul Millsap did not mesh in the front-court. Derrick Favors came to Utah as part of the Williams trade, and he could provide occasional entertainment with a fierce dunk or a high-flying block, but his prime was years away at best. Tyrone Corbin tried to fill Sloan’s enormous shoes, but Utah’s talent was lower than it had been in years and Corbin, well, Corbin was not Sloan. Meanwhile, the Jazz’s lottery draft choice, the league’s next white hope, Gordon Hayward blended into the background, struggling to deal with the strength and quickness of his NBA opponents.

Kobe Bryant is not normally the right prescription for a rookie struggling to find his NBA calling. But the second time Hayward played Kobe that week, he transformed into something different, something better, the player Utah hoped he would be, a player his parents and friends could be proud of, a player who dueled against Kobe Bryant and scored 22 points, including 10 in the final quarter, grabbed 6 rebounds, dished 5 assists, drilled the game-winning free throw, forced Bryant into a turnover on the game’s final possession, and walked off the court with at least one new fan.

“I’m very, very fond of him. He’s a very-skilled, all-around player,” said Kobe Bryant. “I think he’s going to have a very bright future in this league. He reminds me of a more talented Jeff Hornacek. Jeff couldn’t put the ball on the floor as well as (Hayward) can.”

Less than two weeks later, the Jazz ended their season by beating the Denver Nuggers. Hayward pumped in 34 points.

Signing Mike Conley to a five-year, $45 million contract extension is akin to spending $150 on a hot dog. Or $100 on a single gallon of gas. Or $1,000 on a new pair of Nike cross-trainers. Or $5,000 on an iPod. Or $300,000 on a used Toyota Corrola. Ahh, don’t stop me now! I’m just getting started!

It’s one of the most inconceivable contracts in professional sports history and the latest reason the owners should have severe difficulties getting the players’ union to agree to any salary cuts. Five years and $45 million to a mediocre (at best) point guard who has never had a single impressive NBA season? From a team that supposedly lost enough money last year to be considered for contraction? Call this the Michael Heisley Effect, or the Chris Wallace Effect, or just plain stupid… or simply thank your lucky stars that the men who run the Memphis Grizzlies don’t also run your favorite team.

That’s what I’m doing. I woke up to a tweet, “Mike Conley, $45 million” and — in the words of Jason Whitlock — I cackled, rolled a blunt and made a mental note to write Danny Ainge a thank-you letter. Conley signed for $45 million in an NBA economy that pays Rajon Rondo only $55 million. In other terms, for the amount of money the Griz will spend on Conley each of the next five years, Ainge signed Delonte West, Shaquille O’Neal, Nate Robinson and Marquis Daniels. Yeah, that’s right. All of them.

So here it is, my thank-you note.

*****

Dear Danny Ainge,

Thank you for keeping the Celtics’ core together. I don’t know what the Celtics would have looked like if you’d traded Ray Allen last season, but I’m glad the Big Three stayed intact.

Thank you for trading Al Jefferson, Ryan Gomes and a bunch of scrubs for Kevin Garnett. That trade won us a championship. I say “us” like I’m on the team, which of course I know I’m not, but I sure felt like I was while I watched the 38-point Game 6 smackdown. But the Celtics (I stopped myself from saying we) wouldn’t have won a championship without Ray Allen. So I thank you for that trade, too.

Thank you for replenishing the C’s bench this offseason. Even if it was with a bunch of loose cannons. With their age, the C’s needed some depth. Badly.

Thank you for keeping Doc Rivers around. Not this year, which I assume was his decision alone, but three years ago, when the Big Three first joined together. We fans didn’t know it back then (as we clamored for Doc’s firing), but he’s the perfect coach for this crew. At the time, Danny, I figure you were the only person who saw that.

Thank you for signing Scal. Okay, maybe the big redhead didn’t deserve $15 million (or anything close to it). But the Scal Era was enjoyable, no?

Thank you for swindling Rajon Rondo’s agent. (Who should absolutely be fired for Rondo’s current contract.) If Rondo had gone to the open market, he would have drawn a max contract. Instead, the Celtics kept him for a bi-annual exception more than Conley money. That was robbery, Danny. You should be in jail.

Thank you for drafting serviceable (at least) players in the second round. When one man finds Ryan Gomes, Glen Davis, Leon Powe, Bill Walker, Semih Erden and Gabe Pruitt, all in the second round, it can’t be called lucky. Okay, I kid about Pruitt. But all those other guys should have long, productive careers. And you found them, Danny.

Most importantly, thank you for taking over the GM position from Chris Wallace. Just think about it, Danny. If Wallace were still in Boston, none of this would have happened. Instead of building a title contender in Boston like you did, Danny, Wallace would have been busy offering puke-worthy, five year, $45 million contracts to mediocre players. Or trading for alcoholics with max contracts (I’m looking at you, Vin Baker).

So thank you, Danny Ainge. From the bottom of my heart. Celtics fans everywhere should thank you for their contender, maybe more so than they should thank anybody else.

Signed,

Jay King and the Celtics Town community

Well, that was humiliating. (Photo by Brian Babineau/Getty Images)

Crickets and boos.  Boos and crickets.  Those two sounds were all that could be heard in the Boston Garden tonight.

After tonight’s 111-91 loss, on the heels of a two-point loss to Milwaukee, Celtics fans need more than boos.  They need Booze.  And probably a lot of it.

For the Celtics, it was more of the same:  One step forward, two giant steps backward.  That’s the way this whole season has gone, so why should they stop now, with the regular season so close to completion?  A four-game winning streak, a nice comeback, and the Celtics almost tricked me into thinking they had a pulse.  Even last night’s loss was understandable:  The C’s went ice-cold and Bogut played like the most dominant center since Abdul-Jabaar was still Lew Alcindor.

But what the hell happened in the TD Garden tonight?  Nothing good, I can tell you that much.  If you were to look at the stats, it would look like only Rajon Rondo and Rasheed Wallace had good games.  17 points and 8 assists for Rondo, 11 points, 6 steals, and 3 blocks for Wallace.  Then you look a little deeper, and you see that Rondo made the Mike Conley-Marcus Williams combo look like John Stockton and Steve Nash, and that leaves Wallace as the only decent Celtic standing.  There was nobody else to be proud of, no other shining moments.

I would keep writing, but I’d rather just try to sleep this one off.  Maybe I’ll wake up in the morning and forget all about it, but I’ll probably be thinking about Rudy Gay and O.J. Mayo even in my sleep.

Before the nightmares come, I’ll leave you with just one last thought.

Tonight’s game reminded me of a scene from Good Will Hunting.  You know, the one where Will tells the story of his father giving him three choices: the belt, the stick, or the wrench.

Just like Will, the Celtics chose the wrench.

‘Cuz f–k winning, that’s why.