As I’ve lamented plenty of times, I’ve had the bad fortune of following plenty of teams who have had below average years. Last year’s Mets come to mind. The Jets had the year where Chad Pennington AND Jay Fiedler both were critically injured in the opener. And, probably most obviously, the Knicks had the Isiah era which probably correlates favorably with the Nixon presidency. But I have never been a fan of a team that just flat out doesn’t try. Fortunately for me, yesterday’s Knick game gave me a glimpse into that previously unseen facet of sports fandom.
When it comes to critiquing sports players, I adhere to a very simple school of thought. Professional athletes are people that have been bestowed with athletic gifts and knowledge that 99% of the American population are not privy to, and cannot possibly comprehend. But they still are people, and they make mistakes. In the first Jets game this season when Dustin Keller appeared oblivious to the first down marker mere feet away in the fourth quarter against the Ravens, I was upset because the Jets lost, but I didn’t blame Keller. I don’t know what it’s like to get plowed over by a Ford Explorer wearing number 52, and then on the very next play, try to gather myself and be aware enough of my surroundings to try and spot an orange marker on the sidelines while running full speed in front of 80,000 screaming people. And unless you’re currently locked out of your job, neither do you.
I have not, and will never, get on Carlos Beltran for not swinging at the diabolically perfect Adam Wainwright threw him to end the 2006 NLCS. Beltran had produced an outstanding season, and series, and without him the Mets would have never been in the position to get to the World Series. A flawlessly executed curveball from a Cy Young award caliber pitching is a challenging proposition for even the best hitters to say the least.
But there is one thing I will boo about, and it’s the only thing will compel me to do so. That’s effort. As sports fans, there is an unspoken, unwritten contract we all have with our teams. No matter how bad you are, we will come back every season. Maybe we’ll reconsider springing for season tickets, maybe we’ll call in to sports radio and malign how poorly you’re performing, and we’ll threaten to jump ship. But for all of the harsh words and media criticism, when it comes down to it, we’ll always go down with the band. We’ll always care. As long as you do.
The first quarter of that game yesterday was an exercise in apathy. Exhibit A for any sports fan who questions the validity and effort in the NBA. The offensive performance, however putrid it may have been, was less difficult to swallow. The team is still jelling, they haven’t been together that long, kind of like a slump in baseball, once you’re stuck in a hole it’s difficult to pull yourself out. However well trodden and stale these excuses are becoming, they still hold some legitimacy.
The other end, however, was another story completely. While the prosecution sputtered, the defense simply rested. And it’s not just yesterday, it’s the back to back Indiana games, it’s the losses to Cleveland. Yesterday was just the climax in what was rising action up until that point. I’m tired of seeing Carmelo Anthony fighting through screens with all of the fervency of a sleepwalker. I’m tired of watching Amar’e camped out down low halfheartedly poking an arm out to nowhere in particular while the offensive juggernaut that is Luc Richard Mbah a Moute simply slides behind him for a charitably conceded lay up.
Tyler Hansbrough averaged 29 points against the Knicks in two consecutive games with an offensive arsenal about as imposing as the Canadian military for one reason. He gave a shit, and he hustled. For all of the people that aren’t Hansbrough fans, and as a Maryland alum I count myself among them, Hansbrough’s on the floor effort has been consistently outstanding. He kept moving all game, he found open jump shots, and considering the fact that he’s an NBA basketball player, he made them. He didn’t torch Amar’e, Amar’e just laid down to take a rest in the fire. Which the entire team-with the possible exception of the consistently motivated Douglas and Williams-joined him in doing in the first quarter yesterday.
To conclude since this is getting longwinded, the reason all fans rightfully get heated about a debacle like the first quarter yesterday is simple. If you put five Knicks fans off the street out there, we certainly would have been athletically humiliated by the “offensively challenged” Bucks, but when it came to going down with the metaphorical guns blazing, I can guarantee you that anybody who has played basketball would have no bullets left in the chamber. In the first quarter, the Knicks holstered their gun, and clicked on the safety.
So, wherever it has to come from: the coaching staff, the locker room, upper management, the origination of the message doesn’t need to matter, just the content. Attn: The stars on this team; stop being content to defer to the crutch that you’re “below average defenders.” Nobody should believe that Carmelo Anthony and Amar’e Stoudemire cannot competently defend 95% of the league. They’re top tier athletes in a league that is chocked full of some of the most athletically gifted people on the planet. Having a few bad days at the office is understandable, not showing up to work for a week when you’ve only been employed for a month is not. The word "disinterested" is an extremely thinly veiled insult, and should be regarded as such. You're making millions of dollars a year to play a game. Don't act aloof to the idea of some hard work, it's detestable to all of us that would exchange a pound of flesh for an iota- even a thimble full - of your talent and ability.
I’m going to the Celtics game tonight, and if the Knicks play even remotely resembles the lucidity of yesterday, they will get throttled by a Celtics team that not only prides itself on effort, but also calculatedly dominating teams that do not share that same sentiment. And if that happens, the only cheers the Knicks will encourage will be of the Bronx variety. And I’ll be happy to oblige.
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