Tag Archives: dominant team pringles

Explaining Knicks fans in 100 words or less

EDITOR’S NOTE: As I’ve been exhuming this blog over the past couple of days, I’ve found that I had a couple handfuls of draft posts saved up.  Some of them never went live for totally understandable reasons — they needed a Photoshop job that I never got to, a joke needed tweaking, etc. — but I have no idea why this one didn’t go up.  So, here it is, woefully out of context and for no apparent reason whatsoever. – DD

“Something tells me that even the most bellicose Knicks fan will allow him that courtesy, rather than resenting his contract from dusk till dawn.”

Knicks fans will forgive anything — anything — if we believe you’re trying hard. The reason we’ve hated Eddy Curry (and why we hated Jerome James) isn’t because they’ve been bad players when they’ve played (though neither was exactly Moses Malone). It’s because it became obvious very early and very often that neither one of them gave much of a shit about trying to get on the court or trying very hard once they got out there. Dude, Knicks fans remember RICK BRUNSON fondly, and he was terrible. It’s not the money; it’s the malaise.


Athlete Christmas Lists: Darko Milicic

What’s the point. It doesn’t even matter. Presents don’t make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better. Whatever. I don’t even care.

  1. That Deftones CD that has their cover of the Smiths’ “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want” on it. It’s darker.
  2. Gift card to The Black Angel. I don’t care for how much. Whatever. Like it matters.
  3. Johnny the Homicidal Maniac: Director’s Cut. Right, like you get why it’s cool. So lame.
  4. Hangover on DVD.
  5. Admission ticket to Disneyland Paris for when I get back to Europe. “Why?” You wouldn’t understand.


Knicks fans, the future of excitement is now

Do you love New York, and also are a fan o’ tha Knixx?  If so, you must pretty stoked about the Summer of 2010.  I don’t know if you heard, but by clearing out cap space, making mad moves and shedding the bloody spectre of Zeke by winning the mother of all games of Risk with Florida International University Director of Athletics Pete Garcia, team president Donnie Walsh has Dominant Team Pringles pointed in the right direction.

According to accurate Internet reports, the Meltface Killah has already locked up the contractual rights to LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh, a possibly re-energized DMX, “The Man of 1000 Holds” Dean Malenko, effeminate comedian Greg Proops and Randy Quaid, who, as we all know, is the Alpha Quaid.

But all that pales in comparison to the news this week that the Knicks may start the party a year early.  The New York Post reported Monday that Orlando Magic backup center Marcin Gortat is high on the team’s wish list, and that Walsh could look to spend New York’s $5 million mid-level exception on “The Polish Hammer,” a.k.a. “The Warlock,” a.k.a. “Maxi-Me,” a.k.a. “Marcin Ndegeocello.”

You’re probably thinking: Bummer. We’ve already given a multi-year mid-level contract to a backup center who showed flashes for one good season series, and that didn’t turn out too well.  But you’re forgetting one thing — the immeasurable cultural electricity and citywide excitement that could result from one simple event, one tiny little appearance that we could, as a fanbase, WILL INTO REALITY next summer if Walsh gets that deal done:

Marcin Gortat at Hot 97 Summer Jam.

To help you visualize how dope that would be, we here at this is the city line. have created a crude artist’s rendering:

jay-z marcin, runnin this rap ish

And also filed this real photograph of Marcin giving the ladies something to think about:

Marcin Gortat = Drake 2.0?

Don’t blow this, Donnie.

Frank Isola + Myself = DiscoveryBros


His face may be blurry, but his discoveries aren't!

Y’know, I’m really not a fan of the name of New York Daily News beat writer Frank Isola’s “Knicks Knation” (ugh) blog, but dammit, dude keeps firing off stuff worth reading. Case in point: last night’s “Six degress of Obama” missive linking everyone’s favorite 44 (sorry, KVH, though we’ve still got mad love for you) to the orange and blue. Dig in with me, won’t you?

We have discovered a peculiar link between the Knicks and President Obama that has nothing to do with Chris Duhon’s relationship with Reggie Love, his former Duke teammate who is an aide/body guard/power forward to the President.

The Knicks of Two Penn Plaza and the President of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue are connected because of the NBA’s former first family of nuttiness, Antonio and Kendra Davis.

You may remember Antonio running into the stands at the United Center in Chicago because he believed an unruly fan had touched his wife and threatened her.


For those who don’t recall, here’s the incident in question:

This unfortunate though ultimately (and thankfully) mellow — I’m not quite sure what to call it; not a fracas, donnybrook, scuffle or melee due to lack of violence, but certainly something happened … maybe a to-do? no, wait, I’ve got it kerfuffle took place the season after the Pacers-Pistons beef in Auburn Hills, and as such led to Davis’ suspension.

Scene set? Everyone familiar? Back to Isola’s post:

The fan in question was Michael Axelrod, the son of top Obama advisor David Axelrod who along with the President attended last week’s Bulls-Wizards.

The elder Axelrod, of course, is the architect of the coalition-congealing hopespeak that catapulted Obama to the presidency (and, in my own fair state of Massachusetts, Deval Patrick to the governor’s office, as Adam Reilly of the Boston Phoenix detailed in the run-up to the election).

Isola goes on to rifle through some old clips to document how Kendra Davis doesn’t know karate but does know ca-razay, then calls it a night.  A good time was had by most.

One thing, though: “We have discovered a peculiar link between the Knicks and President Obama…”

Have we, sir?

From the aforelinked Jan. 20, 2006, Associated Press wire story:

Axelrod’s father, David, is a prominent Democratic political consultant in Chicago who has worked with Senators Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton and Chicago mayor Richard M. Daley.

From Chicago ABC affiliate WLS-TV’s Jan. 20, 2006, write-up:

The fan in question happens to be the son of prominent political strategist David Axelrod, and he has hired an attorney who plans to file suit against both Antonio and Kendra Davis for battery and slander.

From Howard Beck’s Jan. 23, 2006, New York Times piece:

Michael Axelrod, 22, was sitting in his father’s seats at the United Center last Wednesday for the Knicks-Bulls game. His brief dispute with Kendra Davis prompted Antonio Davis to go into the stands during a timeout. … ”I think people say things in the heat of the moment, and sometimes you have to get a little time and perspective,” said David Axelrod, a prominent consultant for the Democratic Party. Michael Axelrod’s only objective, his father said, was to clear his name.

From Antonio Davis’ freaking Wikipedia page:

The fan in question, Michael Axelrod, the son of David Axelrod, the 2008 campaign manager for Barack Obama, has stated that he was attacked by Davis’ wife, and his lawyer revealed plans to sue for roughly a million dollars and a public apology by the Davises.

So “discovery” means “repackaging ancient, long-since-asked-answered-and-set-aside ephemera”?  Siiiiiiiiick.

Hey guys, check it out! I just “discovered” the next really great Web site: Friendster!

I just discovered this HILARIOUS cutting-edge video:

I just “discovered” this really cool picture!

I just “discovered” these super intriguing continents!


“Discovering” stuff is easy, dude. So glad I learned how to “discover” things from Mr. Isola. I hope someone “discovers” this blog, adds some stuff that Maddox wrote six years ago and rolls it up into their burgeoning online partnership/network/Webehemoth. That’d be dope.

It’s awesome you got the promotion you’ve been angling for, but I think you need to watch your back


On the telephone, she heard my voice
Tell me to pick her up in my Rolls Royce


If my Rolls Royce is not for ladies
Then girl, I’m gonna take you in my Mercedes


HELL-o?  Hey, what’s up, man, how you been?  Good, I’m good — just out here watching the game, you know.  … Yup, yup, courtside.  (laughs) Right, I know — not too bad a way to pass the time.

Man, it’s been a minute since we talked — whatever happened with that promotion?  The old man finally come to his senses?  HE DID?


Oh, man, that’s great! That’s SO great. I’m so proud of you. I wish you could see my face — the proud, shining smile on my forever-glistening face. You earned that, boy. So, gimme the scoop — new office? Awesome. Secretary? Sick. What kind of raise are we talking — 10 percent, 12 percent? Well, I mean, hey, it’s not all about the money, right? They’re recognizing all the hours and all the hard work you’re putting in. And you’re happy, right? That’s all that really matters anyway.

That said … there’s a lot you should be thinking about as you take this step in your career.


I mean, it’s awesome you got the promotion you’ve been angling for, but I think you need to watch your back. Money’s real tight for everyone right now, and everyone’s scared of losing their job.  When you factor in the fact that you just came up, that means people are going to be gunning for you. Believe me — I know what that’s like. You need to be ready, because dudes will switch on you in a heartbeat.


Oh, yeah, they’ll be smiling to your face. But behind your back? All they can think about is how to knock you off course. How to take what you got and make it theirs. How to play you too many minutes over too many seasons without enough legitimate secondary and tertiary offensive weapons in a bruising style that never quite gets you to the top, but will hasten the eventual annihilation of your knees and back, all the while explaining that “pain is weakness leaving the body,” “Adolph Rupp always said cold tubs are for quitters, Yankees and homosexuals” and “you’re not half the man Swen Nater was.”


Listen, all I’m saying is, keep your eyes open. You’re going to meet new people, new contacts … make sure they’re legit, OK? Some of them could ruin your $#!* long-term if you don’t stay mindful. Even if they’re fine as HELL, clad in designer plaid, with a Mona Lisa smile and a vice grip that could crush a non-giant’s hand yet still feels so smooth, so soft nestled in your heroic paw, stay mindful. Big head over little head, dig?


/deep breath

Easy, Big E. Eeeeeeeeeasy.

Hmm? Whuzzat? Oh, right. Your promotion. Listen, you’re going to have good days and bad days, man. Savor the fun times and camaraderie …


And try not to dwell too much on the bad.


Remember: Tomorrow’s another day, baby. Always another chance to get better, to improve. And hey: Expect the unexpected. Things are going to happen that you don’t anticipate — in any job, some weird stuff goes down that leaves you all like, “What the eff?”


Finding your stride in a new position can be awkward at times; you’re going to make some uncomfortable mistakes.


But if you weather the storm, the people will love you, and man, there’s no better feeling in the world.


(Except maybe one.)


All right, man, I should bounce. You got all that?



Yo, you still there?



You sure are, buddy. You sure are.

The neoprene sleeves on Nate Robinson’s arms and legs significantly limit his wind resistance

Because I promised the Dawg yesterday, KryptoNate goes up top and deposits a sick feed from Chris Duhon in the Knicks’ ultimately disappointing  111-100 loss to the Raptors at the Air Canada Centre yesterday:

Other points on this game, which I had the pleasure of watching with my brothers the day after my nephew’s week-late family birthday party:

  • There were some downright abysmal offensive sets, ameliorated only slightly by significantly worse defensive play. There were probably a half-dozen instances of forward/guard inverts that led to Chris Bosh posting up Larry Hughes, Shawn Marion on Chris Duhon or some such other big-small mismatch. If Bosh was on (just 11 points on 5-14 from the floor, though he did add 12 boards), the Knicks would have gotten run off the court, due in part to …
  • Andrea Bargnani. “Il Mago” tore Dominant Team Pringles apart, which is kind of insane, and on several occasions did so off the dribble, which is CERTIFIABLY insane.  Also, I kind of expected Clyde to mangle the Italian’s really-not-all-that-difficult-to-pronounce name, but to hear Gus Johnson chip in and call him “Barn-yarn-ee” all game was somewhat surprising.  And about Gus …
  • He shortened the “My name is Al Harrington and I get buckets” call after one Baby Al score to a creepy laugh followed by the single word “buckets.”  Like, “Ah ha ha ha HA, buckets.”  We rewound and watched it a few times.  Haven’t found the video yet, but it was legitimately disconcerting.
  • I initially thought Ball Don’t Lie scribe Kelly Dwyer was a little too kind to the Knicks in this morning’s Behind the Box Score, but then I remembered that they’re really not good enough that they should be expected to handle a team like the Raptors on the road. And this point is spot-on:

If the team is going to take that next, unexpected step, it has to start playing perfect games. Or, at least, come a little closer to perfection that what we saw in Toronto on Sunday. There are reasons the Knicks didn’t beat the Raptors, nothing to kill the team over, but it’ll be enough to keep the Knicks out of the postseason if they persist.

Still, though, isn’t it nuts that we’re even discussing things that might “be enough to keep the Knicks out of the postseason if they persist,” and not “the senses-shattering string of miracles that have to take place in an utterly improbable sequence that the Knicks, in defiance of all that is rational and pure, might make the postseason”? That’s kind of nice.

  • Wherefore art thou, Danilo? I think we all expected that importing Chris Wilcox and Larry Hughes would necessitate some changes in the rotation, but I was pretty surprised that Gallinari didn’t see the court at all.  Seth at Posting and Toasting made a nice point: “[I]f there’s anybody whose minutes should be sacrificed, it’s Jared Jeffries.”  I’d take it a step further: Jared Jeffries should be sacrificed.  Like, in a ritual, possibly presided over by a New Orleans-based Haitian Voudou priestess.
  • Speaking of Larry: Off to a great start, champ.


Mil gracias para el vídeo, Alto Baloncesto.

Putting a bow on a semi-busy, hoops-filled week by revisiting Hogan v. Andre


Lotta basketball talk this week, which I suppose was to be expected.  Football’s over, I haven’t really cared about hockey since before the end of the Clinton administration, March Madness isn’t here yet, spring training has only just begun … there really weren’t a whole lot of things more interesting to me than basketball this week.  (Except, of course, F My Life.  Seriously, if you haven’t subscribed to that site’s RSS feed or bookmarked it, you’re blowing it.  It’s a schadenfreude lover’s best friend.)

We kicked the week off with my incredibly optimistic take on Dominant Team Pringles’ prospects for the remainder of 2K9 and the forthcoming NBA Draft.  Of course, they ruined my Devinastradamus prediction of a winless February by besting a Manu-less Spurs squadron, but I think there’s just enough futility in the tank to disappoint us all come playoff time.  In a Tuesday “true or false” question, we used the first poll in this is the city line. history (boundaries breaking, new worlds exploding into view) to ask whether or not Hornets forward David West looks like the guy who played Gunn on Angel. (It was your position that he does.)

We also took a look at the inevitable fail that will be America’s Top Baller, went a long way to make a super-dated Freaks and Geeks reference vis-a-vis the Oklahoma City Thunder’s new mascot, and got way, way, way, way too into the Knicks’ (ultimately not-so-meaningful) trade deadline deals.  And to top things off, a salute to José Guillen for doing something I would never, ever, ever do.  Plus, hit the simple goal of a post a day, and got the fine people at BallHype to add my humble endeavor to their rolls, which is great.  (Can’t wait to see how far down the rankings I am and get a better sense of just how many of you people there are out there.)  All in all, I award this week a +0.5.

What might push things to a full +1.0?  Glad you asked, friend.  Howzabout some Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant videos?

Mil gracias to brother Big Dawg for reminding me earlier this week how important this was to me in 1987 (and 1997, though less so in 2007).  It was neon-highlighter headline news for a husky young Devo, every step of the way.  From the contract signing:

To the epic Wrestlemania III contest:

To the classic Survivor Series ’87 “Team Hogan vs. Team Andre” match, featuring a young, spry Bam Bam Bigelow (rest in peace, sir):

It was all epic, all gargantuan, all the time.  I think I can honestly trace the evolution of my perception of the good/bad ethical spectrum (swear to God, almost wrote “ethnical” — hard-boiled racist Freudian slip much?) from the simple Hogan-face/Andre-heel battle of 1987 (Devine: age 4-5) to the Hogan-face/Warrior-face/what-the-fuck-is-a-young-man-to-do conundrum of 1990 (Devine: age 7-8).  It was flat-out mean of Vince McMahon to make such a fresh-faced, innocent young lad make that decision, but ultimately, he was doing what needed to be done: Weaning me off the notion that decisions about who you back and where you cast your lots in life are going to be easy.

“Sometimes shit’s hard,” Vince said.  “Fucking deal with it, Devine.”

OK, I replied with a sigh, my ample child bosom heaving ‘neath the strain of the decision I faced.

I backed Hogan, who, as we all know, lost.  That sucked, and I’m pretty sure I was super upset.  But I learned something by taking that L: There’s strength to be found in making the choice.

As I revisited a similar dilemma between childlike fandom and cold adult math spurred by the shapeshifting demon Larry Hughes yesterday, I came to a similar decision: I actually came to prefer the notion of the Knicks dealing Robinson and/or Lee if it provided the opportunity to shed the contracts of Curry and/or Jeffries.  Now, neither came to pass, both players stayed, Nate dunked over Biff and Knicks fans breathed a sigh of relief, so it wound up not mattering … except that to me, in some small weird way, it did.  For whatever that’s worth.

Shutting down the office, heading home to shut down my head, heading south for a family party tomorrow. Enjoy your weekends, friends, and as always, thanks for reading.  Be safe out there.