[flash http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmW43Q5Gu2M w=640 h=390]

(Warning: The above video mix features loads of Paul Pierce and-1′s and a few naughty words. NSFW if your workplace doesn’t appreciate Brother Ali or four-letter words.)

When I see Paul Pierce get one of his and-1’s, I have to laugh. Almost always, he initiates the contact. After the play, the defender looks disgusted — a combination of “pissed off at the ref” and “disappointed in myself.” As Pierce poses, high-fives somebody, or pounds his chest before he steps to the line, I get a little annoyed. Then I think, “that MF’er again” and laugh.

Pierce is like that college professor who’s been around forever and likes the sound of his own voice too much. The guy who will lecture you forever, refer to his own work constantly, and go right back at anyone who challenges one of his opinions. And you won’t challenge his opinion because you know he’ll probably make you look stupid. You’ll resent him at first, but you’ll come to respect the hell out of his knowledge and the amount of work he put into forming those still kind of annoyingly strong opinions.

If I was writing a book about Paul Pierce, it would center on how he evolved from a young, stubborn kid from LA to a legitimate Hall of Famer and NBA Finals MVP. Of all the athletes I’ve covered, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone turn it around the way Paul did.
Via Q&A With Jackie McMullan | CelticsBlog, 10/31/2010

You don’t have to cheer for Pierce or his team. You don’t have to love his cockiness or his veteran tricks. But you have to respect the man’s journey. You have to admire the way he changed his game. He’s too damn effective, deceptive, and fundamentally sound to hate. Sure, you’d absolutely loathe having to guard anyone like him, but you may as well appreciate the savvy old MF’er.