Home-cooking is just the cure for the Knicks’ little losing streak
I’ve shared a lot with P&T readers writing recaps over the years — over-shared, at times. I’ve never regretted it at the time, but sometimes look back and wonder, “Couldn’t I have provided X without giving away Y? Did they really need Y? Did I?” In summary, I’ve never been embarrassed by what I’ve confessed, but I’ve tried to grow wiser about what goes where when.
I am not embarrassed, then, to confess that in the early going of last night’s 112-98 Knick win over whatever’s left of Masai Ujiri’s fastball I was absolutely losing my mind. It got so bad I started thinking “How early into Tom Thibodeau’s extension would they realistically fire him? Who would be the best replacement?” What could have a diehard fan of 35 years turning so radically on the man they consider the second-best Knick coach of their lifetime?
Karl-Anthony Towns was back in the lineup after missing Monday’s loss to Orlando after aggravating his jumper’s knee late in Saturday’s loss to Chicago. I hope you’re sitting, because I have news for you: I am not and have never a professional athlete. I am, however, someone who also suffers from jumper’s knee — ironic, considering I haven’t had any hops since I was 15. That doesn’t mean KAT’s injury is a carbon copy of my own, as far as symptoms or severity. Plus he has access to some of the finest medical facilities in all creation; I have to call an 800 number today to renew a state insurance plan that doesn’t even issue a membership card to members. We are not the same.
And Towns wasn’t around for the triggering event that has me watching every game with special attention paid to whenever he, Jalen Brunson or OG Anunoby hit the floor. You know how usually when you’re watching a game and the Knicks take a shot, you follow the ball? Not me, sister. Last year’s playoff carnage, what with every Knick besides Mamadi Diakite ending up in the intensive care unit, was the first time I’ve ever seen a promising season for this team completely derailed by injuries. I’ve seen single injuries ruin a campaign — mention “Andrew Lang” to any fan Gen X or older and see the light left in their eyes die. But never a pandemic of pain like last spring.
But despite Towns wincing and struggling with his movement in those early minutes, despite the Knicks playing a meaningless January game against a team they should beat shorthanded, and despite the (possibly premature) conviction no one behind them in the East is a threat to them as a top-3 seed — Milwaukee has to win two-thirds of their games just to reach 50, a number the Knicks should surpass comfortably; Orlando, while noble, still shoots so poorly they’re like Andy Dufresne trying to dig of Shawshank with a spork — he kept playing.
And such play! Towns looked more comfortable after those opening minutes, to the tune of 27 points and 13 rebounds, along with three steals and a pair of blocks. One sequence in the second half that stood out as equal parts promising and ominous. Towns drove to the basket. A healthier Towns or more athletic 7-footer might have just risen for the dunk, but Towns had to go for more of a finger-roll, which rimmed out. As the Raptors rebounded and went the other way, Towns’ momentum took him most of the way across the baseline, near the first row of seats behind the left side of the basket, right where Patrick Ewing was seated.
It’s odd to think how few Knick fans today ever saw Ewing in his physical prime. I didn’t. I started watching them in 1990, when the big man was 28 and already wearing knee pads each the size of home plate. You probably have to be around 50 or older to remember what Ewing looked like before all the tolls time took on his genus. Take it from someone who pulled a muscle the other day doing something that should never involved pulling a muscle: age sneaks up on you. One day you’re the fast, flying apex predator.
The next, you’re meat.
Towns, 29, is without question, as far as offensive impact, the most significant big man the Knicks have featured since Ewing. #33 could go down and get what he wanted in the post but was never dependent on athleticism, thanks to an all-time outside touch. #32, too.
I won’t share the clip — again, trying to over-share less — but some of you know exactly what finger-roll I was alluding to earlier. If Ewing could have finished at the buzzer of Game 7 in the ‘95 conference semis, Knick history might have taken a different, brighter turn. Ewing might be a champion; if he were, all the rubes who rank David Robinson ahead of him without ever seeing either man play would have to add weight to the case of the one who didn’t win his as Tim Duncan’s subordinate. What if he’d split those two Finals with Hakeem Olajuwon? John Starks and Charles Oakley would have their numbers retired. James Dolan might have behaved better before banning a Knick champion whose #34 was in the rafters.
The metaphor is hopefully clear. Brunson’s arrival gave the Knicks an MVP-level player. Towns makes two. He probably knows his body pretty well. It’s not like he’s gonna be out there struggling to move against his own instincts. Tom Thibodeau is many things, but “sadist” doesn’t seem to fit the bill. The organization and its world-class medical staff are unlikely to turn a blind eye to everything they know about health and recovery just so Towns can keep putting up numbers. The Knicks have been what they now are ever since Thibs manned the sideline: they don’t quit; they don’t save for a rainy day; whatever’s at stake today, that’s what they’re after.
We can’t know in January if what they’re after now — every single motherfucking win possible — interferes with their dreams for June. Unless, of course, they overwork Towns & Co. to the point where the grimaces and motions to the bench to be subbed are canaries in the coal mine. Then again, maybe it’s wiser just to trust the people who got you this far, rather than worry about what happened the last time they tried going the distance. Tomato, to-mah-to.
Quoth Muruju: “The Quick and the dead.” I didn’t mention Immanuel Quickley or RJ Barrett in this recap. That’s not a reflection of any lack of fondness for both OAKAAKUYOAKs; just another reminder of how fast things change. IQ and RJ were both Knicks barely over a year ago, but already feel like it had to be longer than that. Hopefully KAT’s knee becomes another example of how quickly things can turn for the better. If not, a season that’s felt like a long and lovely dream will still feel long. Just not in the good way.