By BILL REYNOLDS, The Providence Journal

He is the cornerstone of the Boston Celtics' future.

More specifically, right now he is the Celtics' future.

Is there any wonder why the Celtics just locked up Rajon Rondo for a new contract worth $55 million?

Do the math.

The game ended shortly after midnight, with the Yankees going back to the World Series, and with champagne.

And this time it was well deserved.

This wasn't champagne for winning the American League East, which is the baseball equivalent of everyone getting a trophy in Little League.

Have the Boston Red Sox very quietly become the best team in baseball?

Don't be surprised.

I first met Clay Buchholz before his world changed.

It was in the summer of 2007 in the locker room at McCoy Stadium in Pawtucket, R.I., just a couple of weeks before he would pitch a no-hitter for the Boston Red Sox, a night that not only changed his life, but also our expectations for him.

David Ortiz has been the centerpiece of this Boston Red Sox season since it began.

So maybe it's not that surprising that he still is, if not for the same reason.

In the beginning, it was because of his awful start, the theories of which swarmed like bugs around dead fruit.

He was older than he's supposed to be.

I've never been much of a Tim Wakefield fan.
Not that it's anything personal.
It's the knuckleball.
Has there ever been more of a freaky pitch --- a fluttering, unpredictable affront to baseball purity -- than the knuckleball, this goofy pitch that no one knows where it's going to end up?
This is major-league baseball?
It sure doesn't seem like it.

I grew up in a different Red Sox era.
It was one where Boston could always bash the ball and never had enough pitching. It was one where they continually had a team that stared at the Green Monster as if it were a siren song, all the while with a pitching staff that you knew was ultimately going to break your heart.

Welcome to the Kobe Invitational.
The official name might be the NBA Finals, but we know better.
This is Kobe's tournament, his show, his showcase.
Also his chance for the ultimate validation.
Can he win an NBA title without Shaq?
Can he stave off the challenge of Lebron as the biggest dog on the NBA playground?

Last week I wrote about David Ortiz.
So let's call this Papi II.
He's become the story of this young baseball season, this story that won't go away?
Is he done?
What's the matter with him?
How long can the Boston Red Sox go with him?
How can anyone lose it this quickly?
What's the matter with Big Papi?

He lives in the curious intersection of superstardom and celebrity, a life played out on the pages of the New York tabloids, the embodiment of the American superstar. From strippers to Madonna, from the public destruction of his marriage to being one of the centerpieces in baseball's steroids mess, he long ago transcended being just a mere baseball player.