I Don't Care If Jesus Christ Drops 61 On The Knicks, I Ain't Cheering.
It's been hard to be a New York Knickerbockers fan over the past few years. Even the hardest of the hardcore Knicks fans, such as myself, has to admit that recently expressing your passion for Knicks basketball has become a kin to admitting that Vanilla Ice is your all time favorite rapper.
Somewhere between the constant losing, the massive blob on the bench trying to pass himself off as Eddy Curry, and the Mike Tyson like tattoo on Stephon Marbury's head Madison Square Garden has looked less like the Mecca of basketball and more like a wartorn Palestine.
In other words, Knicks fans have had very little to cheer about.
Indeed Knicks fans have suffered, myself included, the past few years. It is with said suffering in mind that I was willing to grant a pass to the fans at the Garden Monday night for cheering Kobe Bryant on as he set an MSG record for points scored in a game with 61.
The more I thought about it the more I saw it on every hip sports highlight show. The more I listened to it discussed endlessly on sports talk radio the more I started to think that those Knicks fan should not get a pass at all.
They should all be shot. OK, maybe not shot, but they should not be allowed back into the Garden, unless they are taking their kids to a Jonas Brothers concert, and maybe not even then.
I understand that sports fans in general love to see history being made. I'm as guilty as anybody of that.
Being the huge baseball fan that I am it is my dream to witness a no hitter in person. I picture myself in my later years sitting in a rocking chair telling my grand kids how I was there to watch possibly the greatest pitching performance of all time.
I have no problem with wanting to see history made, but I do have a problem with cheering an opposing player on, while he scorches your team.
You root for your team until the end of the game, or until the player who is torching your team leaves the game. Then if you want to give him a small ovation, a tip of the old proverbial cap if you will, just to say good game, be my guest.
Then you go back to doing what New York fans do best you boo. You do not, and let me stress DO NOT chant MVP for an opposing player ever. PERIOD, unless it's Lebron James and you are only doing it to lure him here in 2010, but that's it.
I am 31 years old. I started to really follow basketball in the late 80's and early 90's, so needless to say I am a big Michael Jordan fan. I respect how dominant he was in an era when the players where bigger, stronger, faster, and better.
I respect how he played to win all the time. I respected how he transformed himself from a guy how was know for dunking and couldn't really shoot to a player who would end up with the deadliest mid range jumper ever.
I even collect Air Jordan sneakers, and with all that said, I never rooted for Michael Jordan to win. I loved his game, but I hated him as a player. I hated all the years he knocked the Knicks out of the playoffs. I hated when he came out of retirement and dropped 55 on the Knicks at the Garden. I hated him so much that I even had a poster and a basketball card of John Starks dunking on him.
I never cheered Michael Jordan. Knicks fans never cheered Michael Jordan, not until he came back as a member of the Washington Wizards, but that doesn't count.
I'm sorry Kobe, but you're no Michael Jordan. Now that i think about it, I don't care if Jesus Christ Himself dropped 61 on the Knicks, I ain't cheering and sorry Kobe, but your no Jesus Christ either.
I have come to the conclusion that the lack of good basketball at MSG over the past few years has made Knicks fans delirious. Maybe those fans at the Garden Monday night thought Kobe Bryant was a Knick.
Maybe they were trying to send a message to Knicks management that this is what basketball is, and this is what we want to see.
All that is well and good, but you still can't root against your team. Plus besides, if you absolutely must cheer an opposing player to kill the Knicks do it Wednesday night when Lebron comes to town. Maybe he'll remember it in the summer of 2010.
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