|Amar’e Stoudemire, PF 37 MIN | 6-10 FG | 5-7 FT | 9 REB | 2 AST | 0 STL | 1 BLK | 3 TO | 17 PTS | +6
I mean, sure. Why not start STAT. At this point, I’m going to assume that Fisher generates a lineup and subsequent substitution patterns by writing out every Knick’s name on an index card and plops them down on the plush shag carpeting, cranks the heat in his office up to 100 degrees, puts on three heavy nylon tracksuits, does calisthenics till he’s sweating like a…like a…like an Ira, immediately shucks off all his clothes and drops to to the floor, rolling around like he’s having a petit mal seizure. Whichever five cards stick to his perspiration-drenched, gleaming, naked body, that’s who starts.
Anyhoo, Stoudemire did some decent work in the post, but he couldn’t for the life of him snag a defensive rebound or stop Brook Lopez from going full Galactus. In fairness, niether could anyone else in orange and blue.
|Carmelo Anthony, SF 43 MIN | 7-22 FG | 5-5 FT | 9 REB | 6 AST | 1 STL | 0 BLK | 2 TO | 20 PTS | -3
Some fine, quick work in the pinch post, but he went 1-9 in the 4th, possibly because he never left the game in the second half. This nifty Chris Herring piece outlines a chunk of the ‘Bockers’ failures in close contests, including the fact that Melo had been beasting with the game on the line. But maybe, just maybe, playing him 41 freaking minutes on Sunday (even though he just recovered from a particularly nasty bout of back spasms) and then 43 minutes tonight is going to cause Melo to run a tad low on giddyup by the fourth quarter? But what do I know.
Or maybe if he wasn’t working longer and more brutal hours than a seamstress at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, he’d be able to summon forth the energy to get back on defense instead of engaging in Socratic debate with the goddamn arbiters. Nah, even if properly rested, and perhaps given a nice foot massage, magazine and beverage during timeouts, he’d still be screaming in futility at a ref like he was complaining to an internet provider’s customer service department while the Nyets happily raced up court.
|Samuel Dalembert, C 15 MIN | 1-2 FG | 0-0 FT | 3 REB | 1 AST | 0 STL | 1 BLK | 2 TO | 2 PTS | -11
Samuel Dalembert looks like The Leader. Defended Lopez about as well as The Leader too.
|Jose Calderon, PG 32 MIN | 7-9 FG | 0-0 FT | 2 REB | 7 AST | 2 STL | 0 BLK | 1 TO | 19 PTS | -8
More boffo shooting and deft passing, but I lost track of the number of times he went under a screen giving Neckbeard Williams plenty o’ room to drain a trey. Then there’s the fact that when the Knicks are able to secure a rebound–it’s a rarity, I know–he scoots upcourt, only to find that he’s the only Knickerbocker that seems to think “running” is swell idea. There seem to be two solutions here:
1) Other people could run.
|Iman Shumpert, SG 23 MIN | 4-11 FG | 0-0 FT | 1 REB | 2 AST | 1 STL | 0 BLK | 2 TO | 9 PTS | -12
I have no idea what’s wrong with him, save for the fact that his early-season hot streak was just that, and this is just a particularly brutish regression to the mean. All the terrible, sloppy habits on D seem to have come along for the ride, along with their terrible remora, a generally pissed-off vibe.
|Quincy Acy, SF 10 MIN | 2-3 FG | 0-0 FT | 2 REB | 0 AST | 1 STL | 0 BLK | 2 TO | 4 PTS | -9
The Acy-est moment from tonight’s “Battle for the most annoyingly dull squad in the five boroughs” came in the second quarter, when Quincy barreled into the most Aryan member of the Plumlee clan, flung the ball directly into the seats, and proceed to yap at the offending official like the latter had taken his mother or sister out for a lovely surf n’ turf dinner and then never called her again. At one point, I started chatting with some e-chums on twitter dot com, trying to decide if one had more faith in the success of either A) a wide open Quincy Acy midrange jumper or B) a Jason Smith low post heave. This is the best answer, methinks.
This is pretty good too.
|Cole Aldrich, C 18 MIN | 1-4 FG | 0-0 FT | 5 REB | 1 AST | 1 STL | 0 BLK | 0 TO | 2 PTS | -2
Hi Cole! Since my name is printed right there in the Guinness Book as “The World’s Biggest Aldrich stan” it’s only fair that I point out that while he was able to snaggle the occasional bound, he’s more or less useless down low, and will shoot a hook shot no matter what laws of physics must be shredded in order to do so. Somehow, on his lone bucket, he managed to toss up a Tommy Heinsohn special, even though there wasn’t a Small Batch Artisanal Hipster anywhere near his person.
|Shane Larkin, PG 18 MIN | 2-5 FG | 2-2 FT | 1 REB | 2 AST | 1 STL | 0 BLK | 2 TO | 8 PTS | +4
I dunno about you, but there’s something about Shane’s threes that make me start praying to any deity I can find, as if the sheer psychic force of my hope-y hopes will give his shot the extra inch that it needs to make it past the front rim. He’s scrappy, in a treacly sitcom kind of way, where you half expect Lou Grant/Ed Asner to waddle down from celebrity row after he’s snatched the rock from a ballhandler in traffic, tousle his hair and say…
|Pablo Prigioni, PG 17 MIN | 2-4 FG | 0-0 FT | 5 REB | 0 AST | 0 STL | 0 BLK | 0 TO | 6 PTS | +8
Pablo Pablo’d. Hit some big threes midway through the fourth, just as New York was mounting the latest iteration of their beloved, long-running play, Oh Now You’re Going to Start Playing With Energy After You’ve Fallen Behind By Double Digits? This Comeback’s Going to Fall Short. You Know It. The Fans Know It. Everyone And Their Brother Knows It. Speaking of which, let me just leave this right here.
|Tim Hardaway Jr., SG 14 MIN | 1-7 FG | 0-0 FT | 1 REB | 1 AST | 1 STL | 0 BLK | 0 TO | 2 PTS | -2
He’s not getting his feet set before he shoots and is weirdly lilting to the left when he does go up for a shot. It’s a thing we saw in the preseason way back in 2013. That’s it. No snarky jokes or pop culture references. I diagnosed a basketball thing. I can do that.
This is real. He actually went full Woodson. (Never go full Woodson.)
Five Things We Saw
- A Nets superfan with a prosthetic leg was booted from the Garden. I’m serious. This isn’t a set up for an arch joke/extended metaphor; they dragged a dude with a missing limb from his seat. Take a look
And here’s an official statement from the powers that be.
MSG spokesman released this statement, saying the fan w/ prosthetic leg will not be allowed back. (via a few others) pic.twitter.com/r5GBxvZnCp
— Kenny Ducey (@KennyDucey) December 3, 2014
Which seems a tad overzealous, then again:
— Kenny Ducey (@KennyDucey) December 3, 2014
Nice work by Kenny Ducey, a worthy Twitter follow and the Woodward and Bernstein of ProstheticSuperfanMSGLeg-Gate.
- At one point, Breen was regaling MSG viewers with an amusing anecdote about Joe Johnson and his fondness for Yoga. The gist of it was, he doesn’t have a personal, private Sramana to assist him in unleashing his kundalini and getting his citta-v?tti-nirodha? on, he just goes to classes willy-nilly, even if that means interacting with the peasantry, including, say, a housewife or two. Clyde’s witty one-liner? “Maybe that’s why he goes.” [rim shot]
- This was a loss like pretty much every other loss in the now five-game losing streak, though I doubt bopping Philly should even count as a “win.” Weird lineups. Listless play, Terrible or even non-rotations on defense leading to wide open threes. And of course, they got absolutely walloped on the offensive glass. Which, yes, gathering in a wayward carom is the last step in completing a successful defensive possession. They’re not close to being good enough to give up multiple looks, so when Bogdan Bogdanovic is literally performing a rebounding drill till he finally puts back a layup, you know things have gone terribly, horribly wrong. And like so many of this team’s problems, I can’t really see a solution. When Prigs is grabbing five boards, and Jose Calderon’s led the team on multiple occasions, that’s not good. More to the point, this is a borun, un-fun team. We were promised fun. We were told that even if there were losses and struggles with the triangle, that it would be the kind of team you could root for. But they’re dull, and hatefully predictable right now. I’m not pining for the migraine-inducing madness of 2013-14, but I’m bored to tears right now. I’m even bored of saying how boring this all is. My boredom is painfully boring and repetitive and dull.
BORED. BORED. BORED. BORED. BORED. BORED. BORED. BORED. BORED.
- So yes, the timeout that wasn’t. Down by three, 14 seconds left on the clock, Melo’s got the ball, and Fisher tries to call time. The ref did look his way, but since he wasn’t screeching and gesticulating like he’d been soaking in bath salts, it wasn’t called. Roll that beautiful bean footage…
Yeah, it should have been called, but for the love of Pete, this is the second or possibly third time that Fish has tried to call time in the middle of a play. You can totally say that Melo should have known, or–nutty idea–been told to call a TO beforehand. But once it’s reached the point that Melo’s doing his feint-/jab/dance thing at the three point line, it’s too late already. Stop doing that, Fish.
- This is our new spirit animal.
Embrace it. Not too tightly, mind you. Don’t want to hurt the nice critters. And the LeBrons are next. All hail Tankopia!