Delayed Blogging of the Cavaliers Knicks game!

Like a true sports nerd, I went alone to the Madison Square Garden last night to watch the Knicks take on Lebron and the Cavaliers. It was definitely one of the better adventures I've taken on during my time here in New York. Anyways, I wanted to do one of those fancy live blogs tracing my excursion throughout the night. However, I realized that this was indeed impossible, even with an iPhone (!!!). But fortunately for you, I have found this new phenomenon called "delayed blogging," in which an author blogs several moments after an event happens. Anyways, without further ado, the first "delayed blog" of the Dumb Jock:

March 5th, 2008
Pre-game
6:45ish - The A-Train doesn't suck all the time
I get on the A-Train just as I arrive at the West 4th station, only to find myself front row and center for two children breakdancing! Their ability to do back flips on a moving subway compels me to donate at least $5, so I give them 50 cents.


Free tickets to breakdancing children!

7:00ish - Renaldo Balkman is "The Defender"
Upon entering the Garden, it's difficult to not notice the massive poster with action shots of all the Knicks stars (which, in this case, is an extremely relative term). But the best part of the poster is barely visible at the bottom, labeling all the nicknames for each Knick. Most of the pseudonyms are fitting and somewhat exciting, Malik Rose is "The Veteran" and Nate Robinson is "The Energizer." However, Renaldo Balkman, the only disappointingly solid player in the NBA, is nicknamed "The Defender." Only somewhat fitting and not exciting at all. I think "That Guy We Drafted. Yeah, Him. No, Don't Shoot Us" would've done the job.

7:05ish - The MSG security sucks, in a good way
I honestly could sneak in Osama Bin Laden and even if they did catch me, watching the Knicks play basketball couldn't be much worse than any other thinkable punishment.

7:15ish - The MSG is nice, empty, and explorable
My seat in section 201 is pretty decent, but arriving half an hour early means nothing is happening, so I decide to walk down and see how close I can get to the court without looking like a creep.

7:20ish - Walt Frazier is a robot
I am meeting Mr. Frazier, one of the greatest Knicks ever and now an on-court reporter (see kids, it's not that hard!), equipped with a Dumb and Dumber suit. He signs autographs with a frozen smile and, at one point, he stares at a little kid taking a picture of only his face. Some guy asks him who he's rooting for and he responds like he was trained, "the Knicks." I ask for a photo and he just looks at me with that frozen smile. I frozenly smile back.


Will - take - photo. Will - like - photo.

7:25ish - Spike Lee really isn't doing it for publicity
He is sitting alone in his usual seat eating nachoes in his Obama shirt. I stand at the barrier just behind his section and yell his name. He looks back with a somewhat surprised look on his face and kindly waves to me. I want to yell out something along the lines of "Who you pulling for?" as a joke, but I am too shocked that he is so casual, so I just give him the dorky wave back.

7:30ish - New York loves Lebron
The Knicks came out of the locker room and fans begin cheering. A few seconds later, the cheering erupts into a hollering and I look at the other end of the court. It's Lebron and he's dunking 3-pointers. The attention towards him is almost tangible, not one person even notices that Isiah Thomas is feeling up every cheerleader at mid-court.

7:32ish - Lebron loves New York
Now I don't go to many basketball games, let alone many Cavaliers games, but I can't imagine Lebron is always this quiet during warm-ups. I always imagined him as the laughing, goofing-around-during-pre-game type (Don't See: Tim Duncan) and I'm actually pretty sure he is. But he doesn't say a word to anybody for a while since coming out of the tunnel, not even the little kid asking for an autograph (seriously). At first, I think he's just thinking about how badly he misses Larry Hughes, until he spontaneously throws down one of the most amazing dunks I've seen in person, which was scarily familiar to Nate Robinson's 5-hour dunk from the dunk contest two years ago. And now I realize why he has been so silent: he's busy imagining that #23 in blue and orange.

7:40ish - Nate Robinson really is shortDuring the National Anthem, the 5'9" guard stands still in between two forwards. I think that if that guy is taller than me, then these men really are superhuman. Hours later, I go on wikipedia to find out that Robinson is indeed 5'9". I am 5'6".

7:50ish - Nobody likes Ike, everybody loves Nate, Malik Rose is still alive
During team introductions, the announcer barely mutters underneath his breath "coached by Isiah Thomas." I cringe at the collective "BOOOOOOOO!!!!!" which seems to fill the entire island of Manhattan. Somewhere, Larry Brown is sleeping comfortably. The starting line-up is announced and the fans give a modest applause for each player, except for Robinson, who gets an ovation almost as loud as Lebron's. Then, Malik Allen is introduced...nothing happens.

Gametime
7:55ish - Correction: New York will give Lebron oral sex
There are easily more Lebron jerseys than Knicks jerseys in the crowd (the fashion at the game was strictly three categories: Knicks jerseys, Cavaliers jerseys, business suits). Lebron begins the game with a few layups and impressive assists and the entire crowd goes nuts after each one. Eddy Curry has a nice slam and the crowd applauds out of obligation. This reminds me of when our high school basketball team played Harvard-Westlake, which was then equipped with North Carolina center Alex Stepheson. We rooted for our friends on the court, but not-so-secretly hoped that Stepheson would just break our backboard with every dunk so we could rush the court.

8:10ish - Damon Jones is a loser
Cliche mohawk and all, Jones reminds me of the requisite I-suck-but-I'll-pretend-that-I'm-just-joking-around guy at every pick-up game. During the pre-game, he missed a an easy lay-up and looked around at his teammates and burst out in laughter for no reason. Years earlier, he shows up to the dunk contest in the most foul suit ever made alongside NBA icon Tyronn "Fishy face" Lue.

8:15ish - Wally Szczerbiak is so white right now
While we're talking about pick-up game stereotypes, Szczerbiak is definitely the white-guy-who-tries-so-gotdamn-hard. He has a solid game but, with an injured Zydrunas Ilgauskas, chokes under the pressure of being the only white guy on Cleveland. He hears you, Brian Scalabrine.

8:20ish - Both teams need a point guard
Lebron is taking every inbound pass and has 5 assists in the first quarter. Robinson is manning the floor general duty until Dumb Jock alum Stephon Marbury remembers to play basketball again. I begin to daydream about the idea of Chris Paul playing with Lebron and then I fantasize about a team in which Lebron doesn't need to play every single position. I wake up once my friendly neighbor from Queens spills beer on my shoes. "Don't wurray about it," he tells me. I never apologized.

8:40ish - Lebron isn't human
He just finished the half with a spectacular 3-pointer from just inside half-court. The crowd/the alcohol is louder than ever.

8:45ish - Halftime is boring
Little kids playing basketball. Crowded bathroom lines. I buy overpriced french fries and head down to see if I could get on the court again. I am mere feet away from Jeremy Piven, but the guard sees me and tells me to return to my seat. I pretend that I'm Lloyd. It doesn't work.

8:50ish - New Yorkers are always New Yorkers
The two drunken Guido men behind me are yelling obscenities that would make Pistons fans scared. My two neighbors from Queens spend a good fifteen minutes reciting Ari Gold quotes after realizing Piven is in the building. The thuggish-looking men on my left are awkwardly kicked out of their seats when the actual owners of those seats return wearing I Love New York shirts while explaining on the phone that they are "at a basketball game in New York!" Two typical Staten Island girls get cat calls from the Knicks bench. I am saying all of this aloud. Shit.

9:00ish - Randolph Morris exists
Morris is known as the Kentucky alum who tried to get drafted twice, but failed miserably. The Knicks picked up him up straight out of college out of desperation for...well, for athletic individuals, which allowed Morris to become one of the only players to wear a college jersey and an NBA jersey in the same week. Zing!

9:30ish - Where in the world is Zach Randolph?
N/A

9:45ish - Lebron is even more inhuman
He is now heaving up 3-pointers around the Knicks like his old Powerade commercial. No Knick seems to want to defend him, so he lets Damon Jones put on a Knicks jersey just so he could dunk on him like this again.

9:50ish - We still love every single Giant
Some of the NFL Champion Giants are in attendance. No, not Eli Manning or Michael Strahan, it's Chase Blackburn! Barry Cofield! and defensive coordinator Steve Spagnuolo! You might as well just bring out the entire Hall of Fame. Yet, the crowd is louder than all of Lebron's dunks combined. Meanwhile, Tom Brady inbounds the ball to Robinson.

10:00ish - Fight? Fight!
After Lebron seals his 50-point game, the crowd continues to erupt even going into the timeout. A few sections begin to cheer "MVP!" Suddenly, everyone's eyes divert to the Cavaliers bench, where a large group of players and security guards are hoarded together with an obviously drunk fan wearing a Lebron jersey. I immediately think we're headed for the Malice at the Palace Pt. II and I'm about to run onto the court so I can go home saying I got in a fight with a Cavalier (which sounds cool in two ways). I strategize and reason that my best bet is against Szczerbiak. I pull out my shank, but then the drunken fan is quickly escorted out. I still manage to shank my neighbor from Queens.


Where's Ron Artest?!

Post-Game
10:10ish - I don't regret this decision
The game is over. Lebron thanks the crowd like Diablo Cody at the Oscars as the Knicks walk to the lockers in shame. This is easily one of the best games of Lebron's career. I leave the Garden satisfied, until it takes 20 minutes to catch the A-train back home. I look at my wallet. It's empty. Ha, welcome to New York sucker.

- K.H.