“Late afternoon in early February,” Alice McDermott wrote, “was there a moment of the year better suited for despair?” Is Alice McDermott a Knicks fan? So far this month the ‘bockers have played three games and dropped three. Last year they lost their first seven February contests; the year before that six of their first seven; the year before that their first five; they year before that five of their first six.
This is the time of year we dream of other lives, other teams, other histories. I get it. I know what you’re feeling. You see comment sections devolving into fights over whether Kristaps Porzingis was right to wanna leave (he was) or the Knicks were right to wanna move on from him (they were). You see the finest minds of your generation devolving into animals clubbing each other to death with Enes Kanter hot takes. And always, always the Frank Ntilikina reaches. You look around and see despair, night after night. Welcome home, we whisper, arms extended, and you recoil.
“But I don’t want to be among depressed people,” says you.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” says I. “We’re all depressed here. I’m depressed. You’re depressed.”
“How do you know I’m depressed?” says you.
“You must be,” says me, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”
So let’s gussy up our mutually assured depression and have us a mailbag! There’s so much to talk about besides the Ls train: Zion Williamson; the post-Zingis postocalypse; the ham-sized hole on the roster now that Kanter is free to embody 2<3 somewhere else; Zion; whom the Knicks might draft if they don’t get Zion; whom they might sign this summer. Also Zion.
Get weird. Get kinky (but not so kinky that my editor squashes your question without it seeing the light of day). Tune in. Turn out. Drop me your funkiest freakshow of a query, either in the comments below or at P&T’s Twitter page. The gray is gonna get us, but at least let’s be together while we drown.