In a game charged with intensity, grit, and the echoes of a historic rivalry, the Summer Celtics stepped onto the court with purpose and poise. From the opening tip, it was clear something special was in the air. This wasn’t just another summer league contest—it was Boston versus LA, the green and white versus the purple and gold. And while the stakes were technically lower than a playoff battle, the energy pulsing through every possession felt like something far more consequential. It was a night where legacies began to bloom, where players desperate for a spot on an NBA roster brought their full arsenal to the floor. And at the heart of it all stood Jordan Walsh, etching his name into the lore of the Summer Celtics, with Hugo Besson playing the perfect complementary role, bringing relentless hustle and fire off the bench.
The Celtics came out sharp, their offense crisp, their defense engaged. Jordan Walsh wasted no time setting the tone, gliding through defenders, rising with smooth confidence on his jumpers, and throwing down a pair of emphatic dunks that ignited the green faithful in the crowd. His energy was infectious, his focus unshakable. Each time the ball touched his hands, there was a buzz—a sense that something dynamic was about to happen. And more often than not, it did.
Walsh played with a level of polish that seemed to catch even his own teammates off guard. He moved with the certainty of a player who had taken that next developmental step. His footwork on the perimeter was clean, his midrange game fluid, and his three-point shot—long a question mark in scouting reports—looked smoother than ever. What stood out most, though, was his pace. Walsh never rushed. He let the game come to him, reading defenses, picking his spots, and always ready to pounce when LA made the slightest error.
It wasn’t just scoring. Walsh’s defense was just as impactful. He hounded ball handlers, switched seamlessly onto bigger wings, and disrupted LA’s rhythm with deflections, closeouts, and pure tenacity. His timing was pristine; he seemed to anticipate every cut, every pass, almost as if he’d read LA’s playbook beforehand. On several occasions, he jumped passing lanes and turned defense into offense, leading fast breaks with an assertiveness that made it clear he wasn’t merely trying to impress—he was trying to dominate.
While Jordan stole the spotlight with his performance, the heart and soul of the team’s effort came from Hugo Besson. If Walsh was the engine, Besson was the spark plug—everywhere at once, diving for loose balls, taking charges, pushing the pace, and bringing a sense of controlled chaos that kept LA off-balance. His stat line might not leap off the page the way Jordan’s did, but anyone watching knew exactly how much Hugo meant to the team that night.
He crashed the boards despite giving up size, fought over every screen like it was Game 7 of the Finals, and barked instructions to his teammates on defense like a seasoned veteran. On offense, Besson wasn’t flashy, but he was fearless. He took open shots with confidence, found the open man in transition, and never hesitated to take the ball into the paint when the lane opened. His hustle plays—tapping out a rebound to reset the shot clock, diving into the crowd to save a ball from going out, drawing a foul on a reckless closeout—these were the moments that stitched the Celtics’ win together.
The chemistry between Walsh and Besson was striking. On one possession, Jordan drove into the paint, drew two defenders, then whipped a no-look pass to Hugo in the corner. Without hesitation, Besson drained the three and nodded back at Walsh, who returned the gesture with a smirk. It wasn’t just two young players having a good game—it felt like the foundation of something. They were feeding off each other’s energy, competing not for the spotlight but for the team’s collective success.
LA tried to mount several runs, but each time they did, Boston answered. When the Lakers cut the lead to four midway through the third quarter, it was Hugo who drew a charge on their hottest scorer. Moments later, Jordan came down and hit a step-back jumper that pushed the lead back to six. Then a defensive stand, a tipped ball by Besson, a leak-out pass from Walsh, and an easy transition bucket. Momentum shifted. And it didn’t swing back.
By the fourth quarter, LA looked worn down. The Celtics, fueled by their depth and intensity, never let up. Their bench was loud, their communication sharp, and their unity unmistakable. The Lakers, plagued by turnovers and second-chance points, struggled to match Boston’s relentless effort. As the final minutes ticked away, the outcome was clear—not just that Boston was going to win, but that they were the better, more cohesive team. The kind of team that doesn’t rely on talent alone but thrives on trust, execution, and sheer will.
Jordan Walsh ended the night with a stat line that will be remembered for years in Summer League circles: over 25 points, double-digit rebounds, a handful of assists, and multiple steals and blocks. It was the kind of all-around performance that doesn’t just show talent—it shows readiness. He played like someone who knew he belonged. Someone who was knocking not politely on the door of the NBA rotation, but pounding on it.
For Hugo Besson, the game was a masterclass in doing the little things right. He may not have led in scoring, but he led in impact. His plus-minus was among the highest on the team. Every time he was on the floor, Boston outworked and outsmarted the opposition. That kind of intangible contribution doesn’t always make highlight reels, but it’s what wins games—and earns contracts.
What made this victory more than just a W in the Summer League column was the opponent. Beating LA always means more in Boston. Even in July. Even in a building far from TD Garden. The rivalry doesn’t take summers off, and neither did the Celtics. The players wore their jerseys with pride, played like it mattered, and left everything on the hardwood. Fans in the crowd roared with every big play, every defensive stop, every dagger three. It was more than a game—it was a statement.
As the final buzzer sounded and the team gathered at halfcourt, the smiles were wide, but the eyes were still locked in. There was joy, yes, but also purpose. This win didn’t just feel good—it felt like a glimpse into the future. A future where Jordan Walsh isn’t just a promising prospect but a two-way threat at the NBA level. A future where Hugo Besson carves out a spot with his toughness and versatility. A future where this Summer Celtics team, stitched together from different corners of the basketball world, might be remembered as the starting point for something special.
In the locker room afterward, there was no over-the-top celebration. Just fist bumps, pats on the back, and focused conversation. Jordan downplayed his historic night, crediting teammates, talking about defense, and deflecting praise. Hugo, too, spoke about hustle and team play, not personal accolades. But anyone who watched knew what they had just done. This was the kind of performance that front offices take notice of. That coaches remember in training camp. That fans talk about in the offseason. And that teammates rally around.
There will be tougher games ahead, and nothing in the NBA is guaranteed. But on this night, against their oldest rival, the Summer Celtics played with heart, skill, and an edge that felt distinctly Boston. And at the core of it all were Jordan and Hugo—one rewriting expectations with every shot, the other redefining what hustle really looks like.
They didn’t just beat LA. They earned respect. They turned heads. They made memories. And they made it clear: the future in green is bright.
