Playing against the Boston Celtics felt like stepping into Assassin’s Creed on the wrong difficulty setting. When you’re up against an opponent who’s levels above you, survival depends on precision. Expert timing. Decisive strikes. Perfectly executed dodges. One slip, one miscalculation, and the damage is brutal. You land six blows, but it only takes one from them to put you back on your heels.
Against the Cavs and Bucks, it was a fair fight. Two warriors locked in battle, trading punches, testing limits. But Boston? They’re assassins. A relentless, methodical force, striking from distance with an efficiency that borders on supernatural.