Hope Springs Eternal
by Jonathan Macri
There’s nothing quite like the beginning of a new season.
No matter how much and how often the collective fan base you’re a part of has been labeled crazy, ignorant, delusional, or any other of the choice adjectives we all had to deal with this summer, there is always a part of you that, on this day at least, gets to experience perhaps the most intoxicating of all human emotions:
Hope.
How long does that hope last if you’re a Knicks fan? Over the soon to be 27 years I’ve been watching this team, sometimes its been months, sometimes weeks, and sometimes minutes.
But the hope never dies.
That’s the great part about hope: if you’re a real fan, it’s always there. Better yet, it’s always unique. The hope of no two seasons is identical, and as I sit this morning and think about what I’m hopeful for in 2019, I can clearly remember what exactly that hope was during each of the preceding 26 years.
It all started back in 1993, when I didn’t know much about basketball other than that Michael Jordan no longer played it, and I just hoped to find out what both my dad and stepdad - two men who could not be more different - were so damn excited about.
In 1994, and 1995, and ‘96, ‘97, ‘98 and ‘99 I hoped that this - this - was our year.
In 2000, I just hoped I could recognize my favorite team even though it no longer employed the one guy I could always count on.
In 2001, I hoped that not making it out of the first round was a momentary blip on the radar.
In 2002, I hoped that 2001’s 30-win disaster was a momentary blip on the radar.
In 2003, I hoped that Keith Van Horn and a motley crew of has-beens and never-weres would pleasantly surprise me.
In 2004, I hoped - no, I knew - that Stephon Marbury was the answer.
In 2005, I hoped that Larry Brown was the savior we’d all been waiting for.
In 2006, I hoped that Isiah could put his money where his mouth was.
In 2007, I hoped for hope, because I had damn near run out of it.
In 2008, I hoped that Donnie Walsh was the savior we’d all been waiting for.
In 2009, I hoped that next year would be the year.
In 2010, I hoped Amar’e Stoudemire was the savior we’d all been waiting for.
In 2011, I was sure Carmelo Anthony was the savior we’d all been waiting for.
In 2012, I hoped that a roster so crazy that it just might work actually worked.
(spoiler alert: it did)
In 2013, I hoped the feeling I had in my gut that it was all about to come crashing down was misplaced.
In 2014, I hoped Phil Jackson was the savior we’d all been waiting for.
In 2015, I hoped this skinny foreigner cold actually contribute in his rookie year.
In 2016, I hoped that not having our own pick wouldn’t come back to bite us in the ass, and that maybe a couple former Bulls had more left in the tank than I guessed they would.
In 2017, I was convinced that You Know Who was the savior we’d all been waiting for.
And in 2018, I hoped that finally - finally - this team would make an investment in its youth, no matter how quickly the losses piled up.
It’s 2019. The latest savior we’d all been waiting for tore his Achilles and then decided to go eat kale and wear plaid shirts. The one before him is in Dallas, the one before him is in Montana, the one before him is begging for a job, any job, the one before him is retired, the one before him is back in Indiana, and the one before him is coaching (I think?) somewhere in Italy.
I’m done hoping for saviors. After 26 years, the only thing I’m convinced of is that no one is coming to save us; the New York Knicks are just going to have to save themselves.
As I sit down tonight to watch a motley crew of maybe-some-day-will-bees, my hope is simple: that this time next year, the hope that I have, and that every fan has, will be obvious, and not something universally derided outside of New York:
I hope that this organization can just get through an entire year feeling good about itself and where it is headed.
(and not head-in-the-sand, Mirror Mirror on the Wall stuff either; the real thing)
It starts by continuing what was started last year, and not only bringing in foundational-type young players and making them better, but making sure they want to continue to get better in a Knick uniform, and that reporting to work for this team every day is something getting them closer to their personal goals and not further away.
If they can do that and not a thing more, everything else will take care of itself.
A year from now, if that happens, we’ll know it. We won’t have to sit and hope for something fanciful or drastic. We won’t be looking for the next savior in 2021. We’ll just be left with one hope that I’ve never had the privilege of having:
Hoping things don’t change.
News & Notes
In case you missed it yesterday, both Mitchell Robinson and Taj Gibson are questionable for tonight’s game, Mitch with an ankle and Taj with a calf. The team is reportedly considering starting Allonzo Trier, possibly at point guard, which I predicted yesterday (because even blind squirrels get lucky now and again)
Lastly, if you’re interested, I appeared with Sim on Nothing But Knicks to talk about tonight’s game and surely said some outlandish stuff in the process. Feel free to check it out.
That’s about it. Let’s get to the damn game already.