Arts & Culture
Shtickball: The Knicks Playoff Performance is Worse Than Matzah Constipation
As badly as I want to talk baseball, the New York Knicks are crushing me with their pathetic NBA playoff performance. Read More
I want to be writing baseball. I do, I would love nothing more than to be waxing poetic about Jewish superman Sam Fuld or debating how much a swinging dick A-Rod is. But I can’t, because over the past week the Knicks have once again crushed my spirit with two fist-slamming, “what the shit just happened?’ losses. This Knick team, the first playoff team since 2004, has at once reignited hope in the hearts of fans while also agonizing us with their non-existent interior and exterior defenses. Say what you want about Carmelo’s offensive prowess, the ferocity of Amare’s post moves, but any Knick fan my age and older knows the Pat Riley teams of the 90’s would have literally kicked the shit out of this team up and down the floor.
I will give credit to this team for bending but nor breaking to the Celtics. Many a time I have seen this team mini-slump during a stretch of a game, completely lose their composure and hara-kari themselves when a little more intestinal fortitude would have allowed them to stay in it. That has not been the case this series. The Knicks have played their asses off for the most part and each game were 30 seconds away from victory.
What I have seen this series is supposed ‘offensive wizard’ Mike D’Antoni getting outcoached badly by Doc Rivers. In Game 1, the offense was stagnant for the entire second half, and Mike D seemed content to let Amare shoulder the entire offensive load while Melo built a brick house and the other guys sat around and watched. There was no movement or motion and when this team is going well they are swinging the ball quickly and getting a lot of open threes. For a game 2 breakdown, I will direct you to Will Leitch’s sensational piece for New York Magazine, because it perfectly captures so many Knick fan sentiments. Game 3 is tonight and I have no doubt the Garden will be thunderous. Because no matter how many stomach punch losses this team delivers, we know that we have weathered worse storms (In case you don’t click through, the pieces are all about the one man wrecking crew that is Isiah Thomas). Let us pray the stories about this beady- eyed, misogynistic sociopath returning to New York prove untrue. Please G-D, you owe us that much.