For the next year, during the 1968–69 season, Mike’s uniform stayed clean and dry; mostly, he just mastered the art of giving fouls, an art now extinct, killed by a rule change.
Tag Archives: New York Knicks
Red Auerbach: Welcome to the NBA, Patrick Ewing, 1985
The point is, if the Knicks think they’re getting a finished, polished ballplayer, they’re crazy. I just hope they don’t expect too much too soon.
Bernard King Takes New York, 1985
King has forged a good life for himself back home and, in the process, given New York basketball the transfusion it desperately needed.
Cazzie Russell: Cazzie’s Corner, 1969
It’s Cazzie’s Corner now, and the Knicks brass is so impressed that they are even experimenting with Bill Bradley in the corner.
Hubie Brown: How to Watch the NBA, 1994
Let’s go inside the game in the 1990s NBA.
Pat Riley: Taking the Man Inside, 1994
Riley believes that the only way to make a team out of isolated players is “to get them to do what they don’t want to do.” Yet he knows, too, that there are things certain players can never do.
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar: Busting Out the Goggles, 1974
Kareem got off the bench, and the boos began. He was booed every time he put an elbow near Gianelli’s throat in the pivot, did anything the fans didn’t like, and when he entered and left the game
Willis Reed: The Art & Agony of a Gentle Giant, 1973
Willis Reed was past 30 now, and in the compressed lifespan of athletics that is to be past middle-age. It is a time when the body begins to betray its promises of youth, a time when the infinite resilience and boundless energy start to become less dependable certainties.
New York Knicks: The Last Trip Was No Different, 1977
The Knicks had played their final home game at Madison Square Garden last Thursday night, then left for Buffalo, the first stop of the two-game trip that would bring an end to their season.
Billy McGill: Over the Hill, In the Valley, and Rising Up Again, 1977
McGill was back on the street. He called Walter Kennedy, then the NBA commissioner, asking whether he had any pension funds due him. He did not; he had not played long enough. “I called collect,” he said, “and I had to look around for a dime.
From Way Downtown 