We Ain' E'en Po' Be Here

These Knicks. First, fabulous names. Really United Nations-y of them to assemble a Carmelo, an Amare, a Landry, a Renaldo, an Iman and put them alongside a Bill, a Toney, a Steve, a Mike, and a Josh. It howls multiculti. We've created a safe space for enigmatic poets, Bradyesque icons of cool and Ivy League workmen. Lost in that sauce? A semblance of defense, the remaining ingenuity of Mike D'Antoni, Carmelo's confidence/arrogance, chemistry, heart, effort...you know, small details.

But as far as vanity teams go, James Dolan has finally composed his masterpiece. The 2012 Knicks may only rival last year's perennially dysfunctional Lakers and the 2005-6 Miami Heat and Dallas Maverick squads, whose stars had to roll with Antoine Walker's prudence, Ron Artest's cleverness and Kobe Bryant's patience. This version of reluctant team play and star-tending produces a joy I'm certain could only be replicated with a new time and temperature at Ye Olde Garden. The ingredients for a tumultuous (but not necessarily successful) vanity outfit:

1. An Offensive EgoManiac
2. An Overpaid (Misunderstood) Defensive Anchor
3. A Delusional Bench Weirdo
4. Undeserved Championship Favoritism
5. Aging Guru Coach

Which brings us to...ball so hard, this sh*t weird/we ain' e'en po be here" the hauntingly eloquent and fitting Hov lyrics that describe the position of the current Knix team. They ain't po be here, by any stretch of the imagination, not in the conversation of title contenders, or even dark horse long shots.

Typically, teams who don't defend, cannot produce beyond the starters, and caterwaul like castrati during final minutes never reach the championship podium. But, those teams often feature the L's most dazzling personalities, disguised as winning-components-to-be. Carmelo's charm hasn't helped him evade the boo-birds swooping into a nouveau riche Madison Square Garden, projecting their frustrations about Allan Houston on to a man 13 years his junior. Even the Great STAT Disappointment, a product of the compromise between a hasty GM and a pressured president, has been a unique subplot to keep this vanity team on course for a surprise ending, but no sequel to speak of. We ball so hard...Bill Walker gets 15 minutes a game. We ball so hard...our star sinks into a historic shooting slump and fancies himself a passer (?) for the time being. We ball so hard...Landry Fields is starting at shooting guard. Basically, ball so hard, this sh*t weird, we ain' e'en po' be here. This team, however, is just quirky enough and filled with competitors (Iman Shumpert is 2nd in the L in steals and 1st in ST/48) that it could hatch a "N*ggas in Paris" fantasy, stand on tables with open champagne jugs and pretend like it never knew there was a terrible bench, a lame duck coach, and a penthouse of stars supported by a basement of scrubs. Like Kevin Garnett, anything is possible. 

But not everything wins. In the case of the vanity teams here profiled, only the 2005-6 Miami Heat concocted the solution for victory brass. And their offensive egomaniac (Wade) had a peaked Shaq by his side. So that's one and three-quarters stars, and that changes the whole recipe. Maybe with more milk the Knix could sniff those results. 

Ball so hard, I'm shocked too!