When I heard the Knicks were returning back to the Bankers Life Fieldhouse in Indiana, another half-court grinding sloppier-than-a-food-fight game was imminent. Thus, the Knicks lost by 34 points in a foul/technical foul, free throw-happy game, hence Tyson Chandler going 11-11 from the charity stripe, filled with repulsiveness. Gagging, vomiting, the works, I did it all while watching this complete dog crap of a game. Where to start? The Knicks started out the game shooting 8-22, allowing 30 points to the Pacers in the first quarter. Then, the Pacers scored 44 points in the second quarter. Yes, probably, if not, the best defensive team in the NBA that doesn’t have their main scoring option in Danny Granger due to injury that is also a bottom three offensive team scored 74 total first half points. Only can that happen to the Knicks, I say, because hey, it’s the Knicks. Even with Carmelo Anthony in the fold as the main scoring option instead of J.R Smith as the viable scoring threat in the last matchup against the Pacers, that did jack shit. Depressing notes are seen below:
- Due to the shit that was catapulted all the way from MSG to Indiana, suffice it to say that individual performances are not needed for this recap containing anguishing statistics that make you want to cut your wrist (I’M NOT EMO, BUT REALLY, THOUGH.) and team observations. As I said above, the Knicks started out shooting 8-22 from the field, reminding me that this game was going to suck immediately. Then it got worse and worse and worse. The Knicks lost their composure, and ended up shooting the equivalent of D.J Augustin’s FG% as of this game (33.7%), which made it a given that they were automatically going to lose. Amare Stoudemire and J.R Smith got tagged with technicals. J.R was eventually ejected from the game after Lance Stephenson went full-on Dennis Rodman on him by getting into his head. Any team could lose their composure and lose like that, but when it comes to the Knicks, always keep in mind that the technical
- At halftime, the Knicks shot 14-43 from the field and 1-15 from three. John Wall was laughing his ass off in the process. What else can I say? Monta Ellis is a better shooter than the Knicks as a team were? Yeah, I said it.
- The defense kept running into screens like this guy
- Jeff Pendergraph aka Telegraph (I call him that all the time), started getting run in the second quarter. That to me was the official dagger out of the barrage of daggers that were thrown in this game. Ditto to Sam Young, SAM FREAKIN’ YOUNG, dunking on the defense.
- “But fuck the refs—” YOU KNOW WHAT? IF YOU WERE ONE OF THOSE FANS THAT THOUGHT THE REFS WERE TO BLAME FOR THIS LOSS, THEN YOU ARE THE BIGGEST MENTALLY DEFICIENT DUMMY THAT SHOULDN’T WATCH BASKETBALL. Forgive me for being so vindictive, BUT SERIOUSLY, THOUGH, YOU HAVE TO HAVE AN ACORN SIZED BRAIN TO MAKE SUCH A STATEMENT. YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO WATCH THE GAME TO ANALYZE THE SHODDY, POOPY PLAY.
- As a whole, the Knicks finished the game shooting 33% from the field (29-86), 17% from downtown (5-19), and made one less free throw than they made shots (28).
- Mike Woodson leaving Melo, Amare, and Tyson Chandler in during a blowout made me think that Woody was a psycho. Or is he (not literally.)? Melo was also ankle-hobbling, giving everyone a pretty good clue on why Woody was a psycho for leaving Melo on the floor.
- Chris Smith tweeted that “shit looked bad,” in reference to tonight’s game. He made himself look bad even more after that tweet. I could play better than you can, Chris. Anyone can. The 15th roster spot is actually important.
- And for comic relief, Chris Copeland shot 6-9 from the field *drops mic.*
Tomorrow, I’ll be Eustace from “Courage The Cowardly Dog” reading the “Nowhere News” with one of the many Mike Woodson struggle faces appearing on the back pages. “STUPID KNICKS, THEY LOOKED BAD”- Eustace screamed, reading the headline entitled “Paced” in the middle of Nowhere, waking everyone up in a quiet neighborhood with house’s lights turned off. One house’s lights were switched back on. The one depressed drunk fan that turned the lights on stepped outside onto his porch, screamed like Cameron from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and ran back into his house, turning his lights off in rapid succession along with drinking his basketball sorrows away.
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