The Knicks quest for relevance

I really and truly wish I could care.

I wish I could care that the Knicks are now going to be relevant again; that Spike Lee is going to get more TV time than Dick Vitale; that my beloved agent Esther Newberg is going to be calling me saying proudly, “I have Knicks tickets tonight,” because the Knicks are going to be a hot ticket again.

Carmelo Anthony is coming to New York. The city suddenly cares about the NBA again. I wish I did.

When I was a kid I LOVED the Knicks. I lived and died with the Knicks. I remember how thrilling it was when they finally made it back to the playoffs in 1967 and how devastating it was when Bill Russell’s last Celtics team took them out in The Eastern Conference finals in 1969. I was one of those people who camped out on line starting at 5 a.m. the morning playoff tickets went on sale. The only reason I didn’t go earlier is that my parents wouldn’t let me leave the house in the middle of the night.

I was in section 406 on May 8, 1970 for what is known as ‘The Willis Reed,’ game even though Walt Frazier had 36-19-13 that night. I’m going on memory so if I’m a little off don’t kill me. I wasn’t thrilled with the Earl Monroe trade because it killed me to see Dave Stallworth and Mike Riordan go but I got over it when The Pearl helped the Knicks win a second title in 1973.

I could tell you the autograph-signing habits of all the Knicks—Willis always signed and walked; Frazier stopped, signed and talked to everyone. Bill Bradley put his head down and hoped you wouldn’t notice him—he was always the last guy to arrive prior to a game. But he never said no when you did spot him—he figured you’d earned it. Dave DeBusschere would only sign after he’d gone into Harry M’s—the bar right next to the player entrance—to have a couple of beers. Then, if you waited him out, he signed. Nate Bowman did everything but ask YOU for an autograph.

My friends and I all did Marv Albert imitations and I thought it was incredibly cool that my dad had been at CCNY at the same time as Red Holzman. Red Auerbach was a couple of years ahead of him but I HATED that cigar-smoking SOB. (Until he practically became my son’s godfather in later life).

But it all went away. Willis couldn’t stay healthy and Dave Cowens was too young, too strong and too angry about losing game 7 in 1973 to lose in 1974. A year later, I remember sitting in my college dorm on a Saturday afternoon and watching the old guys hobble through a humiliating game three loss in the old best-of-three mini-series to the Houston Rockets. The who? The Rockets? Mini-series? I don’t think I came out of my room for two days I felt so humiliated.

That was the last vestige of the great old Knicks. But that wasn’t when I stopped caring. In truth, it was Pat Riley, the coach who restored the team to some semblance of past glory when he took over. I just didn’t like Riley: didn’t like him personally and didn’t like his style of play. My Knicks played defense as well as it has ever been played—they were the first team to make holding a team under 100 points a big deal—but Riley’s teams played defense the way the New Jersey Devils play the neutral zone trap: clutch and grab and swing elbows and make the game ugly.

They won but I couldn’t really enjoy it. As I said some of it was personal: I think Riley is three of the most arrogant people I’ve met in sports. I’ve told the Michael Jordan, ‘young and loud,’ story before. I didn’t mind being called young and loud—I was both at the time—I minded his complete refusal to acknowledge, even privately, that maybe he’d been wrong; that maybe Jordan was a little better player than Sam Bowie and that a member of the media—‘you media guys,’ as he said disdainfully that night—had told him so before Jordan played an NBA game.

“He’s really not 6-6, that’s what you media guys don’t understand,” Riley had said that night in New York during the 1984 U.S. Open tennis tournament. “He’s only 6-4.”

“I don’t care if he’s FIVE four, he’s going to tear up your league,” the media guy said.

Hell, I’m wrong all the time. I thought Mark Price was an overrated white kid. He was an all-star who might have made The Hall of Fame if he’d stayed healthy. We all get things wrong.

Except Pat Riley.

At least he lived down to what I thought of him when he took the money and ran to Miami and resigned by sending the team a FAX. Seriously? A FAX? What a great guy.

I tried to ‘get back,’ my feelings about the Knicks after Riley left. But it never came back—except for a moment when Allen Houston hit the shot that rolled around the rim and in to beat Riley’s Heat in 1999.

I don’t feel any malice towards them the way I did in 1994 when I did NOT want them to win the NBA title. I wanted MY Knicks to have the last basketball banner flying in Madison Square Garden. Of course in those days there were only a few banners in the Garden: The Knicks two titles; the Rangers long-ago Stanley Cup banners (to which one was finally added in 1994). That was it. You noticed the banners right away when you walked in. The Knicks banners were white, with orange lettering. They were cool. I didn’t want to see one go up that Riley was responsible for hanging.

Of course it didn’t, thanks in large part to Riley’s refusal to get John Starks out of the game when he couldn’t find water from a rowboat. I had nothing against Starks but I enjoyed seeing Riley outcoached by Rudy Tomjanovich—and this was before I had any relationship with Tomjanovich.

Of course the Garden took all the cool banners down a few years ago and put up about a million smaller, cheesy ones. There are now St. John’s banners and conference championship banners and division championship banners. There’s a banner for Billy Joel! (I love Billy Joel but a banner in Madison Square Garden? When did it become the mecca for piano men?) I think there’s a banner for the Knicks last five game winning streak.

It isn’t that I don’t like Mike D’Antoni, in fact I like him. Donnie Walsh too. I DO agree with Mike Francesa (who I almost never agree with) that if Isiah Thomas is in any way involved these days the building should just be shut down. I think A’mare Stoudamire is terrific. But I don’t like players who don’t get exactly what they want with one franchise so they run somewhere else (See James, Lebron). Finish a job. It isn’t like the Nuggets or the Cavaliers are The Clippers who will never win or the Redskins with evil ownership or the Kansas City Royals who won’t spend any money.

So, Carmelo Anthony is coming to New York. I was there on Tuesday and that is ALL anyone was talking about. Good for the Knicks for pulling it off. I feel for people in Denver the way I felt for people in Cleveland, the way I felt for people in Milwaukee all those years ago when Kareem Abdul-Jabbar demanded to be traded and ended up in Los Angeles.

Everyone in New York is agog.

I wish I could feel that way. But I just don’t, not even a little bit.

****

Couple quick notes on my AP poll this week: I voted Brigham Young and San Diego State 1-2 because why not vote them 1-2? It isn’t as if any of the so-called power teams are dominant right now and why not give these guys a little bit of recognition. The polls in basketball are (Thank God) just a beauty contest, unlike in college football. They mean nothing except as an ego-boost or downer.

That’s why you Georgetown fans who insist on sending posts that are so profane they have to be taken down need to seriously get over yourselves. This isn’t Egypt or Libya or Wisconsin. It’s a basketball poll—one that means just about nothing, unlike a charity basketball tournament that raises millions for kids at risk.

THAT you should be upset about. And you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Larry King interview accomplishes LeBron’s goal of diverted attention, what I’d ask; French Open

LeBron James has come out of hiding—sort of. He taped an interview earlier this week with Larry King on CNN in which he apparently tells King that Cleveland has, “the edge,” in terms of signing him once the free agent period begins on July 1.

If you believe that statement has any meaning at all, I would suggest you start baking Santa’s cookies right now because you can never start too early on a task like that.

Let’s start with the venue James chose for his re-coming out party after he absolutely spit the bit in the NBA playoffs against The Boston Celtics. King still has a huge audience—LeBron likes that. King reaches a non-sports audience—LeBron, man of the world, likes that too. King isn’t likely to ask too many tough questions—LeBron likes that most of all.

Now, without benefit of seeing the interview, here are some of the questions I would have asked had I been guest-hosting for King (I actually DID guest host his old radio show years ago but for some reason have never gotten the call from the TV people) on the night LeBron showed up.

1. What the hell happened in the Boston series—especially games five and six and double-especially game five when you were so bad there were people who actually suggested you were tanking?(Follow up if he starts rubbing his elbow: Then what happened in game three when you went off for 38 points? Did you re-injure it? And then: Do you understand why people would be skeptical if this is the best you’ve got as an excuse?).

2. If you’re leaning towards Cleveland, why all the theatrics? You know they will pay you max money, why not just say Cleveland is where you want to be, that you still have unfinished business there?

3. Do you understand how reviled you will be in the state of Ohio if you leave without ever having delivered anything other than boatloads of cash for yourself?

4. If a championship is really your first priority in life (as he will no doubt claim) how about taking a break from peddling products until you produce one? (fat chance but the question might get an interesting answer).

5. Do you understand why people are saying right now that Kobe is a lot better than you as he plays in The Finals for a seventh time and the third straight year without Shaq? By the way, is it sheer coincidence that you scheduled this interview in the middle of The Finals? Is there a little bit of A-Rod (see World Series, game 4, 2007) involved in the timing?

6. What did you mean after game five when you said you had played three bad games in seven years? Three, really? And, to follow up, did you really mean you only disappoint yourself when you play poorly? Those folks paying for tickets and buying all of your products, you aren’t concerned about them?

7. You do understand that no one buys into your numbers in game six? You had nine turnovers and were invisible when the game was on the line.

The one question I would not ask that people might find relevant is the one about his mom and Delonte West. That comes from the wild rumor category and I’d only go there if HE brought it up and somehow decided to confirm it—which I would think is extremely unlikely. My guess is that the tone of the King interview is somewhat different than mine—which may be one of many reasons why King is who he is. He may not be as soft a landing spot as, say, almost anyone on ESPN, but he’s pretty close.

It’s my personal opinion that James isn’t going back to Cleveland. This is not based on any inside information at all, only on my observations of him through the years. To be as great a player as he is—and he IS great even if he hasn’t been able to close the deal in the playoffs yet—you have to have a massive ego. To be surrounded by enablers every day who are no doubt telling him that Michael Jordan should sit at his right hand, probably makes keeping any sort of perspective pretty close to impossible.

Which is why I think his first concern will be the size of the stage and the size of his audience. That to me means New York or it means New Jersey/Brooklyn with the billionaire Russian telling him how he will help market him worldwide. I still don’t see Chicago because he’s going to want a bigger statue than Jordan someday and that’s not happening there. Miami is a dark horse because he might somehow think playing for Pat Riley—or even better, having Riley say he will come back one more time JUST to coach LeBron—makes him even bigger than he already is. Fitting those two egos into one locker room would be worth the price of admission.

In truth, it is all speculation, which is what LeBron wants. The more people talk about his free agency, the less they talk about his meltdown against the Celtics. The more they talk about him at all, the less they talk about Kobe.

So, the King interview does everything LeBron wants it to do. It diverts some attention from Kobe and from The Finals. It allows him to keep people in Cleveland at bay for a while longer with his coy, “Cleveland has the edge,” non-answer and it means he has come out in public without yet facing hard questions about what happened in the Boston series.

It’s too bad the interview was taped. It would have been pretty funny if King had taken questions and had started out with, “New York—you’re next!”

******

Someone pointed out yesterday that in writing about the sports I was looking forward to paying attention to in the coming week I failed to mention The French Open. Wow, talk about a Freudian slip.

It isn’t that I’m completely un-interested in what goes on at Roland Garros. I have a lot of fond memories of covering the tournament in the 80s and early 90s. I mean, just being in Paris at this time of year, can’t possibly be anything other than a great assignment.

But tennis just doesn’t do it for me the way it once did. Some of it, no doubt, is because I don’t know the players anymore. I know the announcers, not the players. Some of it is, I’m sure, the American drought on the men’s side: no American man has won a major title since Andy Roddick won the U.S. Open in 2003 and there’s no sign that may change in the near future—unless Roddick can finally somehow win Wimbledon.

I may be the one guy on earth who doesn’t enjoy watching Maria Sharapova play. Healthy, she’s a superb player and she’s drop dead gorgeous but the screams on every single shot are just too much for me. She makes Monica Seles sound like a mute. And, fairly or unfairly, even though I recognize the brilliance of the Williams sisters, I have never been able to enjoy them as much as I should. Some of it may be their need to constantly call attention to everything BUT their tennis; some of it may be that they are never gracious in defeat—it’s always, “I gave her the match,”—and some of it is the respect I lost for Serena after her behavior at the Open last fall. (Not to mention her moron agent sticking her hand in front of the CBS camera afterwards).

So, I’ll probably watch at least for a while from the semifinals on—although my pal Mary Carillo won’t be there because she’s flying home for her daughter’s high school graduation this weekend—but the truth is I just won’t be as into it as I was once upon a time. I wish that wasn’t the case, especially since Nadal and Federer appear to be good guys, but that’s the way it is.


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John's new book: "Moment of Glory--The Year Underdogs Ruled The Majors,"--is now available online and in bookstores nationwide. Visit your favorite retailer, or click here for online purchases

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Stories of growing up a fanatic Knicks fan; These days the NBA playoffs aren't for me

I wish I could make myself care more about the NBA playoffs. I just can’t do it. They go on much too long—especially the first round which goes on for about a month—and they’re entirely too predictable. Oh sure, upsets happen every once in a while, but not nearly as often as in hockey and when they do—like Orlando over Cleveland last year—you don’t get a handshake line, you get LeBron James stomping off and then insisting he was RIGHT not to shake hands.

It’s more than that though and, to be fair, a lot of it is just personal bias.

I grew up a Knicks fan, a fanatic Knicks fan at that. I was fortunate to come to basketball just when the Willis Reed-Walt Frazier-Dave Debusschere-Bill Bradley-Dick Barnett-Cazzie Russell Knicks were about to take off. (I could name the rest of the 1970 championship roster: Dave Stallworth, Phil Jackson, Mike Riordan, Nate (the Snake) Bowman, Bill Hosket, Don May and John Warren but that would be showing off).

When I was REALLY young, the Knicks often played Tuesday night doubleheaders—seriously—with two teams playing at 6:30 and the Knicks playing at 8:30. Since it was a school night I often went to the 6:30 game and then had to go home and listen to the Knicks (Marv Albert at the mike) on radio before going to bed. In those days, game actually took under two hours. The first time I ever saw the Celtics was in the first game of a Garden doubleheader.

When the Knicks got really good in 1969, I became a blue seats denizen, sitting as often as possible in section 406, which was right at center court and, just as important, right behind what was then Marv’s broadcast position. (He was moved downstairs not long after that). That meant my buddies and I could position ourselves to actually speak to the great man when he made his way to his location. He was never anything less than friendly, often asking us what WE thought about that night’s game. We always thought the Knicks were going to win.

After games, we would wait outside the player entrance to get autographs. Needless to say I had ALL the Knicks (DeBusschere was the toughest because he would go straight into the bar next door for a couple of beers and then would sign afterwards for those who waited him out) including the trainer, the immortal Danny Whelan.

The damn Celtics beat the Knicks in the ’69 playoffs and went on to win their 11th title in 13 seasons. Bill Russell retired (Thank God) that summer and the Knicks won 60 games the next season, including an 18-game win streak that broke the Celtics all-time record of 17. They were the No. 1 seed in the playoffs but it was never easy. They needed seven games to beat The Baltimore Bullets, who had some pretty good players themselves in Wes Unseld, Earl Monroe, Gus Johnson, Jack Marin and Kevin Loughery. The Milwaukee Bucks were scary because, even as a rookie, the player then known as Lew Alcindor was almost impossible to stop, but the Knicks won that series in five.

Then came the epic final with the Lakers that included Jerry West’s halfcourt shot at the buzzer to tie game three (the Knicks won in overtime even though DeBusschere fainted when the shot went in); Reed getting hurt in game five and the Knicks somehow winning with Bowman, DeBusschere and Stallworth surrounding Wilt Chamberlain as best they could; Chamberlain going off for 45 in game six and, finally, the Willis Reed game on May 8th, 1970 when Reed hobbled onto the court long enough to hit two jump shots to start the game and never scored again.

It didn’t matter. Frazier scored 36 (and also had, I think something like 19 rebounds and 13 assists) and the Knicks won 113-99. I can still see DeBusschere holding the ball over his head as the clock went to zero and I can still hear Marv’s call (I brought my radio with me): “It is PANDEMONIUM in the Garden!”

The Knicks lost the finals in 1972 to the Lakers team that won 68 games and completely destroyed the Knicks record winning streak by winning 33 (!!!!) games in a row. But they came back a year later and beat the Lakers again, Monroe taking Barnett’s place in the backcourt and Jerry Lucas filling in admirably for Reed who was never quite 100 percent again after his MVP year in 1970.

It was 21 years before the Knicks made it back to what were known by then as The Finals. Bird and Magic and Jordan had taken the league to new heights of popularity by then but I never really jumped on their bandwagon. It wasn’t that they weren’t brilliant, I just never warmed up to Phil Jackson—yes, an ex-Knick but all the Zen-stuff never took for me—or to Pat Riley. In fact, it was Riley’s presence as coach of the Knicks in ’94 that made it impossible for me to get excited about their finally getting back to The Finals.

I’ve often told the Michael Jordan/Riley, “you media guys just don’t understand basketball,” story (Note: click here to read the story from a previous post) but it went beyond that. Riley really DID think he had invented the game and I couldn’t stand his style of play as the coach in New York and then later, after he quit the Knicks by sending a FAX (!!) announcing he was leaving, when he coached in Miami. I’m sure Stan Van Gundy loved the way he shoved him aside a few years back when he saw a chance to win another title as coach.

I was actually glad the Knicks lost game seven to the Rockets in ’94 if only because I didn’t want Riley in the same sentence with the great Red Holzman. I had no such problems with Jeff Van Gundy or the ’99 group that made The Finals but that almost didn’t count because it came in a lockout-shortened season.

Nowadays, I just can’t get into the impossibly long playoff season (yes, the NHL is almost as long but there’s more suspense in the early rounds and you aren’t constantly pounded by ESPN with one promo after another and the networks see-no-evil coverage of all things NBA. Not that this is unique to the NBA on the four letter network, it just feels smarmier on the NBA because it is so non-stop.)

That’s not to say I don’t appreciate the artistry of the league’s best players. James is amazing to watch, but I still can’t get past his behavior after the loss to Orlando last year. For the record, winning this year won’t change what he did last year. Only a genuine apology might do that. Kobe Bryant is fabulous but hard to love given his past—no, he wasn’t convicted of rape but HIS version of what happened that night in Colorado is none too flattering. Steve Nash is an absolutely freakish shooter but still hasn’t been to The Finals once. I love the potential of Kevin Durant and Stephen Curry, who are mega-talented and appear to be really good guys too.

So, I’ll keep an eye on the playoffs and hope for an upset or two—although the first weekend hasn’t been too encouraging has it? Part of me would like to see the long-suffering fans of Cleveland (in all sports) get a title, part of me would like to see if LeBron is callous enough to leave after not delivering a championship.

And the Knicks? I like Donnie Walsh and Mike D’Antoni. They have lots and lots of cap room this summer. If they use it to sign Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh, I might get interested again. If it’s LeBron, well, call me when he apologizes.

I Rarely Root for ‘Laundry’, Story on First Time I Met Pat Riley (Jordan Draft Talk), and Mets Should Fire Minaya Too!

For the most part, I stopped—to quote ‘Seinfeld,’—rooting for laundry years ago. A lot of that, no doubt, is the result of what I do: I get the chance to know quite a few people in sports on a personal level and my instinct is to want to see those I like do well, regardless of who they happen to play for, coach or manage.

I grew up in New York a rabid Mets fan. But anyone who has ever known Joe Torre for 15 minutes can’t actively root against him. I enjoyed the success he had with the Yankees. Throw in the fact that I worked with Mike Mussina on a book in 2007 after knowing him for years and you can bet I wanted the Yankees to do well every time Mussina pitched.

On the other hand, it is probably fair to say the Mets couldn’t lose enough when they employed Vince Coleman in the 90s and I really never got excited about the Bobby Valentine-managed teams, even the one that made it to The World Series in 2000.

I still laugh when people assume I’m always pro-Duke (ask the people at Duke if that’s true) just because I went there. I do like and respect Mike Krzyzewski very much but I don’t think you need a Duke degree to feel that way. I feel the same way about Gary Williams and there’s never been anyone I’ve respected more than Dean Smith.

I’ll come back to that on another day.

In spite of all that, you never completely get over boyhood memories. There was never a period in my life more thrilling than 1969-1970 when the Jets stunned the world in The Super Bowl; the Mets came from nowhere to win The World Series and the Knicks won their first NBA title. I was at Shea Stadium when the Mets won game five of the World Series from the Orioles and in Madison Square Garden when Willis Reed made his dramatic entrance before game seven of the finals against the Lakers.

No one loved Willis Reed more than I did and there’s no doubting the impact he had on that game just by showing up to start. But it is kind of amusing when people call that “The Willis Reed game.” Willis had four points—he hit two jumpers to start the game. Walt Frazier had, if memory serves, 36 points, 19 assists and 13 rebounds.

I gave up on the Knicks years ago, not so much when they were bad but when Pat Riley was the coach. Riley is, quite simply, a bad guy—ask Stan Van Gundy, among others—and I simply couldn’t pull for a team he coached.

The first time I met Riley was at a dinner in September of 1984. He had flown into New York to watch the U.S. Open tennis for a couple of days and I was invited to dinner by my friends Dick Stockton and Lesley Visser along with Riley and Bud Collins. Stockton knew Riley well because he was the lead voice on the NBA at the time for CBS.

At some point during dinner, the subject of Michael Jordan came up. Jordan had just led the Olympic team to the gold medal in Los Angeles and was getting ready to start his rookie season in Chicago.

“The Portland Trail Blazers, “I said rather loudly (I’d been drinking) will now go down in history not only as the team that took LaRue Martin with the No. 1 pick in the draft but as the team that took Sam Bowie ahead of Michael Jordan.” (I didn’t kill the Houston Rockets for taking Hakeem Olajuwon because while I would have taken Jordan it was clear Olajuwon had the potential to be great. Bowie, it seemed to me, had the potential to be injured a lot).

Riley gave me one of those condescending looks he’s so good at. “You see,” he said, “this is the problem with you media people. You just don’t understand basketball. Did you know that when Jordan was measure he was only 6-4 and a half, not 6-6 the way he’s listed?”

I looked back at Riley, trying to look condescending. “I don’t care if he’s FIVE four,” I said. “He’s the best college player I’ve ever seen. He’s going to dominate your league.”

I was probably shouting. Back then, I had come to really like Jordan personally and I thought he was beyond amazing on the court.

“You know something,” Riley said, pointing a finger. “You’re young and you’re loud.”

Well, he had me there. I was definitely both. I was also right.

Anyway, that’s not why I dislike Riley, but it’s part of it I suppose. This is all a long-winded way of saying how disgusted I was to read this morning that Omar Minaya tried to turn his press conference yesterday announcing that the Mets had FINALLY fired the despicable Tony Bernazhard into some kind of a referendum on Adam Rubin, a very hard-working and talented reporter from The New York Daily News.

Rubin is not, by any means, the only reporter—or person—who found Bernazhard to be a really bad guy. “He is a very, very bad man,” was the quote from Newsday’s Ken Davidoff on the radio a few days ago. Because Rubin had asked Minaya and team owner Jeff Wilpon about getting into player development a couple of times in the past, Minaya tried to claim Rubin had been trying to get Bernazard fired so he could get a job.

Oh please, that’s simply ridiculous. To begin with, it’s been a mystery to people in the Mets clubhouse—not the media—for several years how Bernhazard kept his job. He stabbed Willie Randolph in the back repeatedly and was generally a snarly, nasty guy.

What happened here is simple: at a press conference where he basically had to admit he’d made a mistake by hiring and hanging on to Bernhazard, Minaya tried to deflect the blame (somehow) onto Rubin. To be honest, if the Mets had any guts, they’d fire Minaya. They could have already fired him for doing a lousy job (how’s that Oliver Perez signing working out?). Now they should fire him for being a lousy guy.

The Mets playing poorly never makes me happy but when the people running the team act like a bunch of jerks, it’s just disappointing. At least the Jets have hired a mensch in Rex Ryan to be their coach. In that, I can take some comfort.