Friday, December 07, 2012

Basketball

How 'bout the New York Knickerbockers last night slapping Miami down so hard they're still looking for their teeth?  This classic post from February 10th of this year:

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We're Not Asking for Miracles

We, and here I speak on behalf of the Knicks Nation, are not asking for miracles. We don't expect to win the NBA championship this year. What we are asking for is a version of basketball that makes you smile again. This lovely young fellow, Jeremy Lin, he being the namesake of the phenomenon called Linsanity, has provided just that for the last four games, including tonight's win over the Lakers.

Read that again: Knicks beat Lakers.


We are not asking for miracles, but it might also be nice if the MSG network (which owns and telecasts the Knicks) came to terms with Time Warner Cable (which, under normal circumstances, distributes the programming to millions of schmucks like me). Currently the Knicks are blacked-out on my television and there's nothing I can do about it.


Not for nothing, but the people at MSG have rammed a putrid brand of basketball down our throats for MORE THAN A DECADE, while charging the highest seat prices in the league (by an unbelievable margin compared to other notable teams like the Lakers or Celtics), yet they think it's okay to hold out for more transmission fees from Time Warner. Funny aside--MSG is owned by Cablevision, which is Time Warner's largest competitor. Go figure. Shouldn't there be a law about this?


And when I say putrid, I really mean it. Easier by far to swallow than recent-era Knicks basketball would be such things as fresh dog shit or one of those boneless chicken breasts that got lost in the back of the fridge a couple of weeks ago and now makes the whole kitchen smell when you open the door to get a beer. Easier by far.


ESPN televised tonight's game and so I got to watch it. It was almost wonderful. And now, if only the Celtics could continue their tumble into oblivion, life would be pretty close to okay.


I leave early in the morning for New Bedford, Mass, from which my great-great-Grandfather hunted the spermaceti, and where my friend Bobby the Gravedigger, backed up by the North End All Stars, will perform his recently released rock opera "North End Serenade." It's gonna be like The Who performing Tommy, except perhaps not as massive. But I'm gonna be there, regardless.


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Since that time Linsanity came and went to Houston.  Amazingly, and despite a bunch of negativity from the Greek Chorus, Mike Woodson (cue the hosannas) has turned a team led by what used to be the world's second most disfunctional superstar (Dwight Howard takes the honors here) and populated by a bunch of 40 year olds into a legitimate contender.  A genuine pleasure to watch.  How about those Knicks beating the Heat down so hard they're still looking for their teeth?

The downside?  There's a part of me that hoped the Knicks would stay so wretched for so long that the idiots who own them would get sick of the abuse and sell.  Now this surely won't happen.  And if the Knicks somehow manage to win a championship in the next couple of years, watching James Dolan stand up there and accept the trophy is going to give me projectile emesis.

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