Walsh Resigns as Indiana GM, as Isiah Loses 100th
March 25, 2008
NEW YORK – The big news inside Madison Square Garden on Monday evening had little to do with the New Jersey Nets, and even less to do with the Knicks. The resignation of Indiana GM Donnie Walsh, long to be rumored as the prime candidate to replace Isiah Thomas as team president, occupied the minds of beat writers on both sides of the Hudson River.
But Thomas reserved comment, and Mark Jackson, now an announcer with both ABC and YES who previously played for the Knicks and Pacers over a 17-year career, wouldn’t elaborate of Walsh’s future.
“He’s a great man, and a great basketball mind,” the former St. John’s product said before the Nets defeated the Knicks, 106-91. “It is sad to hear, knowing what he meant to the community. At the same time, I wish him nothing but the best.”
Thomas, who has seen nothing but the worst of times during his four-plus seasons in New York, didn’t offer much with respect to his stay here, which should conclude, mercifully, at the end of this season.
Which all leads back to the basketball game that was played at the Garden last night. In past years, the New Jersey would make the 12 mile journey from their home along Route 3, into the Garden, knowing there was a good chance their return trip would be a pleasant one.
But, because the Jason Kidd factor does not exist anymore, and the fact that the Knicks had already cinched their first series victory since 1999-2000, there just wasn’t as much juice as fans were accustomed to. Until their December 5 meeting, –in which Kidd rested with his now-infamous migraine- the Nets had won 23 of 25, including playoffs, with the future Hall-of-Fame guard on the floor.
Now, in the Post-Kidd Era, Lawrence Frank haven’t been as fortunate. He, and his team, entered MSG with losses in two straight games, three of four, and nine of their last 12 games. The victory ended a nine-game road losing streak; just last week, Memphis waltzed into the Garden and snapped an 18-game road skein. Still, New Jersey [29-41] remains just 1½ games out of eighth place in the East.
New York, in the position to play spoiler, had its own concerns. The loss was Thomas’ 100th in 152 games since he replaced Larry Brown. The Knicks, losers of seven consecutive home games and 13 of 36 overall, have matched a record of futility not witnessed in nearly 45 years. Archivists have shoveled as far as back to November 26-December 17, 1963 to document the last time New York dropped this many in one season within their own building; then, that was the third incarnation of MSG. The current edifice has been in place since 1968.
The Knicks [19-51] have now dropped five straight and 12 of its last 13. If they run the table, which is still a very real possibility, they would have lost 24 of the final 25.
New Jersey has won 11 of 15, and 12 of 17 in this series, including 12 of the last 15 at the Garden. The Knicks have not swept a season series from the Nets since winning all three games during the 1998-99 season. Kidd joined the Nets in 2001.
Vince Carter [27 points, seven assists and six rebounds], Richard Jefferson [21 of his 26 points in the first half], and Nenad Krstic [22 points, six boards] starred for the visitors. Carter and Jefferson were particularly deadly from beyond the arc, as they hit for a combined nine-of-15. As a unit, New Jersey hit 53.6% of their field goals, including 10-of-17 from three-point range.
Jamal Crawford, who averaged 32 points over the first three meetings between the two teams, finished with 26 and eight assists.
An Open Letter to No. 4
March 18, 2008
Dear Brett Favre:
Yep, that inevitable moment finally came last week; you told the world you were walking away from professional football. I guess many of us knew your retirement day would eventually arrive, but the reality of you not suiting up next season has yet to sink in. Without you, Brett, the game of football becomes just a little bit different–and NOT in a better way. All I can do now is send along my gratitude for 17 wonderful years, Mr. Favre; hear me out for just a bit.
Thanks for becoming synonymous with that ONE franchise over the years, Brett; oh yeah, you threw five passes in a Falcons uniform when you were a struggling rookie, but once you arrived in Green Bay, you immersed yourself in the Packer tradition, won a Super Bowl, and went NOWHERE else. Your devotion to one team happily reminds me of another athlete named Brett–George of the Royals–another guy who truly understood the meaning of the term “loyalty.”
Thank you for being there EVERY week, Brett. Your record string of 275 consecutive starts for a QB (including the postseason) says it all about your love for the game and unmatched desire to compete. I know there were weekends when you weren’t even CLOSE to feeling 100% physically, Brett, but even the Wisconsin National Guard would have had trouble keeping you out of uniform on those particular Sundays. I know that streak meant a lot to you; it TELLS a lot about you, too.
Thanks for showing us your “human side,” Brett, and the ability to fight back. Yeah, there was the painkiller addiction, your affinity for booze, and your wife’s battle with breast cancer. You faced each individual battle and bravely overcame each–perhaps the game of football being your “saving grace” throughout it all. In my opinion, your vulnerability contributed to your “regular guy” image, Brett; yeah, you were never really different than any of us except for the Superman-like heroics you’d demonstrate on any given Sunday.
Thanks for personifying what the term “guts” is all about, #4. With tears in your eyes, you scorched the Raiders for 399 yards passing and four touchdowns the day after your Dad passed away in 2003–knowing he’d want you play. I remember you saying after the game that you felt like your father was watching that night, Brett; I watched, too–in total amazement.
Thank you for your immense enthusiasm, Mr. Favre. You always reminded me of a little kid on Christmas morning the way you approached each game. Your joy was truly GENUINE every time you threw a TD pass–a record 442 of them in all. I’d love the way you’d sprint to the end zone to meet your wide receivers after a scoring strike; I’m almost convinced you ran faster in those celebratory situations than you did when you were chased in the pocket by 300-pound linemen. Yeah, no doubt–you just LOVED football. My colleague Jeff Jacobs of the Hartford Courant recently wrote this about you: “Favre never played quarterback like a corporation. He played it like a country boy.” Yes, how true–and SO refreshing.
Yes, again, the WAY you played football was incredible, Brett–and I thank you for that. You were the master of improvisation, the gun-slinging escape artist, and the true “sheriff” in Titletown, U.S.A. Sounds like the roles of a movie star, huh, Brett? Well, you were a star, for sure–without all the Hollywood glitter.
Thanks for proving many of us wrong when you came back for another season in 2007, Brett. Yours truly was among those who were convinced your playing days should have ended after a very mediocre 2006. You responded by throwing 28 TD passes and taking your team to the NFC title game. Yes, I guess the doubters out there always fueled you, Brett, ever since those many football fans uttered “Who?” when your name was mentioned during the 1991 draft. They’re ALL familiar with you now, Mr. Favre–trust me.
Thanks for leveling with us when you called it a career, Brett. While acknowledging you can still play the game, you also uttered, “I’m just tired.” Yeah, 5,377 competions and over 61,000 yards passing–both records–can do that to you. And thanks in advance for STAYING retired, Brett; you may have not won another Super Bowl–as was your wish–but you truly went out on top. It’s time, Brett. You’re now at the very top of an esteemed list of all-time Packer greats. You were the poster boy for toughness, for Lambeau Field, and for Green Bay in general. In short, you were the Bobby Layne of your day–with a championship ring.
Finally, thanks for the show of raw emotion at your press conference, Brett. The tears flowed as you struggled to find the right words to convey that you were done with football–a game you played with a “blue-collar” flair. Yes, even a tough guy can cry, Mr. Favre.
Thanks, #4, and best of luck.