- May 23, 2012
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If you've ever been lucky enough to visit Madison Square Garden, you might have come across a giant framed photo within the arena. It's a nod to one of the most famous moments in the storied building's history. Keep in mind that MSG is not just the Mecca of hoops - this is an arena that has played host to thousands of famous athletes in a variety of sports, Muhammad Ali among them.
This particular photo however is of a famous NBA moment, one frozen in time for posterity. It's not Willis Reed hobbling on to the court during the NBA Finals (although I'm sure that's somewhere too). It's not Clyde Frazier, Earl Monroe, Patrick Ewing or even Carmelo Anthony. It's not Michael Jordan either, although he IS in there somewhere. Instead, it captures one of the unlikeliest moments from one of the unlikeliest players to ever grace an NBA floor...
That dunk, that moment, not only encapsulated John Starks's career perfectly, but also the lore of both the 90s Knicks team on which he played and that era of basketball in general. Chicago and New York epitomised the 90s NBA, both in terms of style and attitude. That particular game, and series, was the quintessential 1990s New York Knicks experience - underdog turned top dog, agonising defeat clutched from the jaws of exhilarating victory (and on the other side, the reverse was always true in the Michael Jordan story). And that dunk also came to be emblematic of Starks himself - rising rapidly, seemingly out of nowhere, climbing so near to the summit that he could almost smell it... only to come back down to Earth with a bang. And ultimately, nothing to show for it.
Well, that last part is not quite true. As the framed photo testifies, Starks is still remembered for that dunk. It's just that he's better remembered for other, less iconic moments. Remembered for what came next. Some moments were largely out of his control, others, well... were entirely of his own making. It's a career tale of 'nearly' moments, where time and perception combine to ensure that the odd infamous event eclipses most of the little victories along the way. It's that story that I want to explore here - the story of the also-ran whom, if fate had been just a bit kinder, might be perceived entirely differently today.
****
I always disliked John Starks when he played. In fact I loathed that entire Knicks team. They beat up my Hornets in the playoffs in 1993 (and again in 1997). When my adolescent basketball idol, Alonzo Mourning, was traded to the Heat, the Knicks and Heat proceeded to have an incredible feisty rivalry, which almost always ended up with a low-scoring playoff series and an inevitable New York victory.
When they weren't busy beating my team or my favourite player, the Knicks were always beefing with someone else. Ask anyone to describe 90s basketball, and they'll probably describe a Knicks/Bulls playoff series. Or a Knicks/Pacers playoff series. Low scores, slow tempo, fights, suspensions and more dramatic playoff moments than you could poke a stick at.
Anyway, on a team renowned for being big and mean, Starks kinda stood out. Not that he didn't fit into the Knicks' defensive ethos - he very much did - but he was the wildcard on an otherwise mechanical team. He wasn't scary so much as he was annoying. Starks had this perpetual facial expression that was equal parts cherubic and gormless - he always looked like a five year old who has been discovered with a wet puddle in the middle of his bed.
While his expression was often child-like, his play-style was frenzied. Starks was one of the league first true volume three point shooters, but he was more than that. He could get into the paint, finish difficult shots, and act as a defacto playmaker at times. Above all though he was a defensive firebrand, and because of this he became one the 1990s true antagonists. If Starks wasn't the naughty five year-old, then he was definitely the annoying little brother. He got into it with Jordan. He got into it with Pippen. He got into it with Sprewell. He even got into it with Reggie Miller, the archetypal antagonist himself. Yes, Starks was typecast as the antagonist to such a degree that he made freaking REGGIE MILLER a protagonist by default. When the Knicks played the Bulls or Pacers in the playoffs, it was hard not to root for the Jordan Legacy Story, or the Indiana Underdog Story. Anyone but the damned Knicks and their wild-child shooting guard.
So given all that, I find myself with a confession to make. Having re-watched a lot of 90s classics in recent years, I actually find myself not hating John Starks. In fact, I even feel empathy for him. Shoot, I might even like him. How the hell did that happen?
I think it started when re-watching 'The Dunk'. Even an admitted Knicks-loather like myself could admire the play for what it was at the time. As a moment in time it can give anyone goosebumps. However now I don't see that play in a vacuum, but rather with the benefit of historical context. I understand why that play resonated with New Yorkers so much. More to the point though, I understand why Starks himself resonated with people in the Big Apple now.
I've come to see Starks as the perpetually doomed hero in his very own Greek tragedy. Let me explain why.
Starks's journey to the NBA was unique. If you're unaware of the circumstances, this video explains it more concisely than I ever could. So that, I guess, adds an element to making him a more sympathetic figure to a more matured eye.
You also learn things along the way. I remember Starks taking his 'demotion' to 6th man in 1996, following the arrival of Allan Houston in New York, professionally. He actually went out and won the Sixth Man of the Year award that year. What I never knew until recently was that, far from getting angry, Starks actually went out of his way to welcome Houston to NY, and diffuse a potentially volatile situation. He may have been a hothead, but evidently the guy wasn't a complete jerk.
But beyond that, it's the 'what ifs' of the 90s Knicks teams that have really drawn me to the Starks story. The playoff series that birthed 'The Dunk' was both the origin and the leitmotif for those perpetually cursed Knicks and their occasionally wayward guard. Consider this: Starks in that 1993 ECF was one of the few to ever volunteer to guard a prime Michael Jordan man-to man, and one of even fewer still to ever do it semi-successfully. In the first three games of that series, Jordan shot just 25 of 77, or 32%. Michael Jordan having a bad shooting game was not a novelty. It happened, more often than people would think. Michael Jordan having THREE poor outings in a row though, and in the playoffs too... that WAS a very rare thing.
Holding prime Jordan to such numbers, on top of having punctuated the Game 2 win with that dunk, could have made Starks a living legend. Then Game 4 happened. Like the Finals against Portland the year prior, Jordan suddenly caught fire from the perimeter. Even then, Starks, game as ever, matched him nearly shot for shot in the first half. Ultimately he cooled off, Jordan didn't, and the series was tied at 2-2.
Perhaps that series is remembered for Jordan's 54 point game, but with so many iconic Jordan moments to choose from in the decade, it's at least debatable. So if we were to grant the series is not necessarily remembered for Jordan's 54, nor for Starks's dunk, or his defence, what is it remembered for? Well...
And that was that. In the aftermath few remembered Starks holding Jordan to 40% shooting for the series, even with the Game 4 eruption. And while some would always remember his dunk, many, many more just remember Charles Smith being stuffed, stopped, stuffed and stopped again. Series over, the God of Basketball would win his first three-peat, and the antagonists from New York were back in their rightful place. Order in the universe restored.
Only of course the story didn't end there. Jordan took his famous sabbatical, and suddenly there was an NBA title up for grabs, with as many as a dozen different teams fancying themselves to cash in. The Knicks were as good a chance as any in 1993-94, and after a couple of playoff doozies against the Jordan-less Bulls and Pacers - both series went seven games, because that's just what happened - they duly found themselves in the Finals against Houston.
The 94 Finals were like one of those 1990s ODI cricket games - low scoring, evenly-matched, to-ing and fro-ing without a decisive favourite and all the more captivating for it. The Knicks took a 3-2 lead. Starks was playing well, shooting well. As Game 6 went on, the laborious New York offence ground to a halt, and it looked like yet another Game 7 was on the cards. Then Starks decided to go for it.
He - and the Knicks - fell just one shot short. One Hakeem Olajuwon finger tip short. If Olajuwon had been born three inches shorter, or even cut his fingernails that morning, then the Knicks might well have had a championship, and Starks remembered for one of the all-time clutch playoff performances. A basketball icon in his own right.
Instead, Starks is now remembered for what happened next. There's no way to sugercoat a 2-18 shooting performance in Game 7 of the Finals, but let me provide some context. The Knicks, as good as they were during that era, were a VERY mediocre offensive bunch. They finished in the bottom half of the league for offensive efficiency every year during their golden period between 1992 and 2000, often in the bottom third. The trade off for all those big bruisers in the paint was a distinct lack of spacing. Furthermore the Knicks notoriously turned over the point guard position every other year in search of a competent lead guard - Mark Jackson, Doc Rivers, Derek Harper, Greg Anthony, Chris Childs, Charlie Ward - the Knicks burned through them all. So the spacing was iffy, and the offensive conduit often lacklustre for New York. This is the context into which Starks's role on that team should be placed.
He HAD to shoot, or else the Knicks would've struggled to crack 80 points most nights. And shoot he did. They weren't even bad, ill-advised shots. As with his taking on the defensive roles for the Michael Jordans and Reggie Millers of the world, Starks showed no fear in taking them. Perhaps the guy just had such a primal demeanour that fear never even entered into it. The results would often be mixed, but Starks always kept shooting. Even in that Game 7. Even when he was 2-18.
And so the Knicks, and Starks, blew their big chance. And this time not only was Starks's big moment - Game 6 - forgotten, but he also suffered the ignominy of taking on the role that Charles Smith had been bequeathed the year before. The scapegoat. The choker. And now the Knicks snatching defeat from the jaws of victory was becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. Roll on, 1995...
Everyone knows about 8 points in 8.9 seconds. It has become lore. A few might also remember the infamous choke job at the free throw line that was punctuated by Miller's heroics - yes, there was our man again, missing a couple of huge free throws. There was an inevitable sense of deja vu as the Pacers and Knicks went to yet another seventh game, which went down to yet another final moment, which ended up with another monumental choke. Patrick Ewing it was this time, joining Charles Smith and Starks in the gallery of shame. Starks actually had a decent game, but this was Reggie Miller's moment.
In 1996, it looked as though time and opportunity had passed the Knicks. Then in 1997, they reloaded for one, final throw of the dice. Starks won 6MOTY. They played the Heat and their former coach Pat Riley in the conference semis, because that's just what had to happen. Then the Knicks had half their team suspended - Starks among them, naturally - following a Game 5 loss, because that's just what had to happen, dammit. And of course, the Knicks had to blow a 3-1 series lead because of it, because 90s Knicks. It's not just Starks, I'm actually starting to sympathise with the whole franchise now. Bloody hell.
Anyway, you'll be shocked to learn that the Knicks played the Heat and Pacers again in the playoffs in 1998. Starks was playing well, shooting well, and New York actually had a Cinderella type moment in the first round, beating the 2-seed Heat. Another nice moment, followed by another inevitable playoffs exit.
And that was it. Starks was traded to Golden State for Sprewell - kinda amusing, given their history - and while the Knicks continued to Knick for a while, even making the 1999 Finals as the eighth seed, and playing their now annual playoff series against the Heat and Pacers, they weren't really THOSE Knicks anymore. An era had finally passed.
So, what was the point of this trip down memory lane? I guess, ultimately it was to eulogise that for every Game 2 'The Dunk' in a player's career, there's a Game 4 Jordan explosion or Game 5 block party to follow. For every Game 6 fourth quarter flurry, there's a 2-18 Game 7 shooting performance just around the corner. And that sometimes, if you are a Michael Jordan, or Magic Johnson, or Larry Bird, or Kobe Bryant, or LeBron James, those 2-18 shooting performances don't matter. Does anyone remember that Michael Jordan shot 3-18 in Game 3 of the 1993 ECF with his team down 2-0? Of course not, because his team won, and he's Jordan. Kobe shot 6-24 in Game 7 of the 2010 Finals, but the Lakers won because they're the Lakers, and he's Kobe.
John Starks, on the other hand, it seems was always destined to be the guy remembered for one lousy shooting performance. It's not fair, but it is the way of things, in life as in professional sports. The Harlem Globetrotters exist, and thus the Washington Generals must too.
So, as a fan of a small market NBA team that is about as far away from the 60s Celtics, 80s Lakers or 90s Bulls as it's possible to be, I think I'm just comforted by the fact that, even though it meant little academically, there's still a place to remember Starks's dunk. It all ultimately, inevitably, ended up in defeat. But if you're going to go down, whether as the NBA team that's never even come close to winning a championship, or as the little guard who couldn't even get drafted by an NBA team, better to go down blazing in glorious defeat than with a whimper. Better to shoot 2-18 than not shoot at all.
Better a league with a John Starks than without one. And as the 2024 playoffs approach, I hope we discover our next one soon.
Coming Up
Monday - Plenty to chew on here - Bucks/Thunder, Wolves/Dubs, Lakers/Pacers, Clips/Sixers or Cavs/Heat, take your pick.
Tuesday - Main games are out west with Clips/Pacers and Kings/Sixers. If the Nets can't beat the Raptors, they should fold.
Wednesday - Four games, four excellent choices - Bucks/Lakers, Pels/Thunder, Kings/Mavs and Heat/Dubs. Not a tanker in sight.
Thursday - Nugs host the Suns, the Thunder host the streaking Rockets, while the Dubs visit the impressive Magic.
Friday - Only two games. If you're Celtic fan, watch your team beat the Hawks. Anyone else, tune into Pels/Bucks.
Saturday - A lot of important games today - Nugs/Wolves, Thunder/Suns, Cavs/Sixers, Pacers/Lakers and Kings/Mavs (again).
Sunday - the stars keep visiting the Bayou as the Pels host the Celtics. Elsewhere nobody knows what to expect from the Bucks or Hawks.
Best of luck this week guys, and remember that even if only 2 of your 18 posts in this thread are accurate, you're still a valued member on this team. The streets will never forget.
This particular photo however is of a famous NBA moment, one frozen in time for posterity. It's not Willis Reed hobbling on to the court during the NBA Finals (although I'm sure that's somewhere too). It's not Clyde Frazier, Earl Monroe, Patrick Ewing or even Carmelo Anthony. It's not Michael Jordan either, although he IS in there somewhere. Instead, it captures one of the unlikeliest moments from one of the unlikeliest players to ever grace an NBA floor...
That dunk, that moment, not only encapsulated John Starks's career perfectly, but also the lore of both the 90s Knicks team on which he played and that era of basketball in general. Chicago and New York epitomised the 90s NBA, both in terms of style and attitude. That particular game, and series, was the quintessential 1990s New York Knicks experience - underdog turned top dog, agonising defeat clutched from the jaws of exhilarating victory (and on the other side, the reverse was always true in the Michael Jordan story). And that dunk also came to be emblematic of Starks himself - rising rapidly, seemingly out of nowhere, climbing so near to the summit that he could almost smell it... only to come back down to Earth with a bang. And ultimately, nothing to show for it.
Well, that last part is not quite true. As the framed photo testifies, Starks is still remembered for that dunk. It's just that he's better remembered for other, less iconic moments. Remembered for what came next. Some moments were largely out of his control, others, well... were entirely of his own making. It's a career tale of 'nearly' moments, where time and perception combine to ensure that the odd infamous event eclipses most of the little victories along the way. It's that story that I want to explore here - the story of the also-ran whom, if fate had been just a bit kinder, might be perceived entirely differently today.
****
I always disliked John Starks when he played. In fact I loathed that entire Knicks team. They beat up my Hornets in the playoffs in 1993 (and again in 1997). When my adolescent basketball idol, Alonzo Mourning, was traded to the Heat, the Knicks and Heat proceeded to have an incredible feisty rivalry, which almost always ended up with a low-scoring playoff series and an inevitable New York victory.
When they weren't busy beating my team or my favourite player, the Knicks were always beefing with someone else. Ask anyone to describe 90s basketball, and they'll probably describe a Knicks/Bulls playoff series. Or a Knicks/Pacers playoff series. Low scores, slow tempo, fights, suspensions and more dramatic playoff moments than you could poke a stick at.
Anyway, on a team renowned for being big and mean, Starks kinda stood out. Not that he didn't fit into the Knicks' defensive ethos - he very much did - but he was the wildcard on an otherwise mechanical team. He wasn't scary so much as he was annoying. Starks had this perpetual facial expression that was equal parts cherubic and gormless - he always looked like a five year old who has been discovered with a wet puddle in the middle of his bed.
While his expression was often child-like, his play-style was frenzied. Starks was one of the league first true volume three point shooters, but he was more than that. He could get into the paint, finish difficult shots, and act as a defacto playmaker at times. Above all though he was a defensive firebrand, and because of this he became one the 1990s true antagonists. If Starks wasn't the naughty five year-old, then he was definitely the annoying little brother. He got into it with Jordan. He got into it with Pippen. He got into it with Sprewell. He even got into it with Reggie Miller, the archetypal antagonist himself. Yes, Starks was typecast as the antagonist to such a degree that he made freaking REGGIE MILLER a protagonist by default. When the Knicks played the Bulls or Pacers in the playoffs, it was hard not to root for the Jordan Legacy Story, or the Indiana Underdog Story. Anyone but the damned Knicks and their wild-child shooting guard.
So given all that, I find myself with a confession to make. Having re-watched a lot of 90s classics in recent years, I actually find myself not hating John Starks. In fact, I even feel empathy for him. Shoot, I might even like him. How the hell did that happen?
I think it started when re-watching 'The Dunk'. Even an admitted Knicks-loather like myself could admire the play for what it was at the time. As a moment in time it can give anyone goosebumps. However now I don't see that play in a vacuum, but rather with the benefit of historical context. I understand why that play resonated with New Yorkers so much. More to the point though, I understand why Starks himself resonated with people in the Big Apple now.
I've come to see Starks as the perpetually doomed hero in his very own Greek tragedy. Let me explain why.
Starks's journey to the NBA was unique. If you're unaware of the circumstances, this video explains it more concisely than I ever could. So that, I guess, adds an element to making him a more sympathetic figure to a more matured eye.
You also learn things along the way. I remember Starks taking his 'demotion' to 6th man in 1996, following the arrival of Allan Houston in New York, professionally. He actually went out and won the Sixth Man of the Year award that year. What I never knew until recently was that, far from getting angry, Starks actually went out of his way to welcome Houston to NY, and diffuse a potentially volatile situation. He may have been a hothead, but evidently the guy wasn't a complete jerk.
But beyond that, it's the 'what ifs' of the 90s Knicks teams that have really drawn me to the Starks story. The playoff series that birthed 'The Dunk' was both the origin and the leitmotif for those perpetually cursed Knicks and their occasionally wayward guard. Consider this: Starks in that 1993 ECF was one of the few to ever volunteer to guard a prime Michael Jordan man-to man, and one of even fewer still to ever do it semi-successfully. In the first three games of that series, Jordan shot just 25 of 77, or 32%. Michael Jordan having a bad shooting game was not a novelty. It happened, more often than people would think. Michael Jordan having THREE poor outings in a row though, and in the playoffs too... that WAS a very rare thing.
Holding prime Jordan to such numbers, on top of having punctuated the Game 2 win with that dunk, could have made Starks a living legend. Then Game 4 happened. Like the Finals against Portland the year prior, Jordan suddenly caught fire from the perimeter. Even then, Starks, game as ever, matched him nearly shot for shot in the first half. Ultimately he cooled off, Jordan didn't, and the series was tied at 2-2.
Perhaps that series is remembered for Jordan's 54 point game, but with so many iconic Jordan moments to choose from in the decade, it's at least debatable. So if we were to grant the series is not necessarily remembered for Jordan's 54, nor for Starks's dunk, or his defence, what is it remembered for? Well...
And that was that. In the aftermath few remembered Starks holding Jordan to 40% shooting for the series, even with the Game 4 eruption. And while some would always remember his dunk, many, many more just remember Charles Smith being stuffed, stopped, stuffed and stopped again. Series over, the God of Basketball would win his first three-peat, and the antagonists from New York were back in their rightful place. Order in the universe restored.
Only of course the story didn't end there. Jordan took his famous sabbatical, and suddenly there was an NBA title up for grabs, with as many as a dozen different teams fancying themselves to cash in. The Knicks were as good a chance as any in 1993-94, and after a couple of playoff doozies against the Jordan-less Bulls and Pacers - both series went seven games, because that's just what happened - they duly found themselves in the Finals against Houston.
The 94 Finals were like one of those 1990s ODI cricket games - low scoring, evenly-matched, to-ing and fro-ing without a decisive favourite and all the more captivating for it. The Knicks took a 3-2 lead. Starks was playing well, shooting well. As Game 6 went on, the laborious New York offence ground to a halt, and it looked like yet another Game 7 was on the cards. Then Starks decided to go for it.
He - and the Knicks - fell just one shot short. One Hakeem Olajuwon finger tip short. If Olajuwon had been born three inches shorter, or even cut his fingernails that morning, then the Knicks might well have had a championship, and Starks remembered for one of the all-time clutch playoff performances. A basketball icon in his own right.
Instead, Starks is now remembered for what happened next. There's no way to sugercoat a 2-18 shooting performance in Game 7 of the Finals, but let me provide some context. The Knicks, as good as they were during that era, were a VERY mediocre offensive bunch. They finished in the bottom half of the league for offensive efficiency every year during their golden period between 1992 and 2000, often in the bottom third. The trade off for all those big bruisers in the paint was a distinct lack of spacing. Furthermore the Knicks notoriously turned over the point guard position every other year in search of a competent lead guard - Mark Jackson, Doc Rivers, Derek Harper, Greg Anthony, Chris Childs, Charlie Ward - the Knicks burned through them all. So the spacing was iffy, and the offensive conduit often lacklustre for New York. This is the context into which Starks's role on that team should be placed.
He HAD to shoot, or else the Knicks would've struggled to crack 80 points most nights. And shoot he did. They weren't even bad, ill-advised shots. As with his taking on the defensive roles for the Michael Jordans and Reggie Millers of the world, Starks showed no fear in taking them. Perhaps the guy just had such a primal demeanour that fear never even entered into it. The results would often be mixed, but Starks always kept shooting. Even in that Game 7. Even when he was 2-18.
And so the Knicks, and Starks, blew their big chance. And this time not only was Starks's big moment - Game 6 - forgotten, but he also suffered the ignominy of taking on the role that Charles Smith had been bequeathed the year before. The scapegoat. The choker. And now the Knicks snatching defeat from the jaws of victory was becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. Roll on, 1995...
Everyone knows about 8 points in 8.9 seconds. It has become lore. A few might also remember the infamous choke job at the free throw line that was punctuated by Miller's heroics - yes, there was our man again, missing a couple of huge free throws. There was an inevitable sense of deja vu as the Pacers and Knicks went to yet another seventh game, which went down to yet another final moment, which ended up with another monumental choke. Patrick Ewing it was this time, joining Charles Smith and Starks in the gallery of shame. Starks actually had a decent game, but this was Reggie Miller's moment.
In 1996, it looked as though time and opportunity had passed the Knicks. Then in 1997, they reloaded for one, final throw of the dice. Starks won 6MOTY. They played the Heat and their former coach Pat Riley in the conference semis, because that's just what had to happen. Then the Knicks had half their team suspended - Starks among them, naturally - following a Game 5 loss, because that's just what had to happen, dammit. And of course, the Knicks had to blow a 3-1 series lead because of it, because 90s Knicks. It's not just Starks, I'm actually starting to sympathise with the whole franchise now. Bloody hell.
Anyway, you'll be shocked to learn that the Knicks played the Heat and Pacers again in the playoffs in 1998. Starks was playing well, shooting well, and New York actually had a Cinderella type moment in the first round, beating the 2-seed Heat. Another nice moment, followed by another inevitable playoffs exit.
And that was it. Starks was traded to Golden State for Sprewell - kinda amusing, given their history - and while the Knicks continued to Knick for a while, even making the 1999 Finals as the eighth seed, and playing their now annual playoff series against the Heat and Pacers, they weren't really THOSE Knicks anymore. An era had finally passed.
So, what was the point of this trip down memory lane? I guess, ultimately it was to eulogise that for every Game 2 'The Dunk' in a player's career, there's a Game 4 Jordan explosion or Game 5 block party to follow. For every Game 6 fourth quarter flurry, there's a 2-18 Game 7 shooting performance just around the corner. And that sometimes, if you are a Michael Jordan, or Magic Johnson, or Larry Bird, or Kobe Bryant, or LeBron James, those 2-18 shooting performances don't matter. Does anyone remember that Michael Jordan shot 3-18 in Game 3 of the 1993 ECF with his team down 2-0? Of course not, because his team won, and he's Jordan. Kobe shot 6-24 in Game 7 of the 2010 Finals, but the Lakers won because they're the Lakers, and he's Kobe.
John Starks, on the other hand, it seems was always destined to be the guy remembered for one lousy shooting performance. It's not fair, but it is the way of things, in life as in professional sports. The Harlem Globetrotters exist, and thus the Washington Generals must too.
So, as a fan of a small market NBA team that is about as far away from the 60s Celtics, 80s Lakers or 90s Bulls as it's possible to be, I think I'm just comforted by the fact that, even though it meant little academically, there's still a place to remember Starks's dunk. It all ultimately, inevitably, ended up in defeat. But if you're going to go down, whether as the NBA team that's never even come close to winning a championship, or as the little guard who couldn't even get drafted by an NBA team, better to go down blazing in glorious defeat than with a whimper. Better to shoot 2-18 than not shoot at all.
Better a league with a John Starks than without one. And as the 2024 playoffs approach, I hope we discover our next one soon.
Coming Up
Monday - Plenty to chew on here - Bucks/Thunder, Wolves/Dubs, Lakers/Pacers, Clips/Sixers or Cavs/Heat, take your pick.
Tuesday - Main games are out west with Clips/Pacers and Kings/Sixers. If the Nets can't beat the Raptors, they should fold.
Wednesday - Four games, four excellent choices - Bucks/Lakers, Pels/Thunder, Kings/Mavs and Heat/Dubs. Not a tanker in sight.
Thursday - Nugs host the Suns, the Thunder host the streaking Rockets, while the Dubs visit the impressive Magic.
Friday - Only two games. If you're Celtic fan, watch your team beat the Hawks. Anyone else, tune into Pels/Bucks.
Saturday - A lot of important games today - Nugs/Wolves, Thunder/Suns, Cavs/Sixers, Pacers/Lakers and Kings/Mavs (again).
Sunday - the stars keep visiting the Bayou as the Pels host the Celtics. Elsewhere nobody knows what to expect from the Bucks or Hawks.
Best of luck this week guys, and remember that even if only 2 of your 18 posts in this thread are accurate, you're still a valued member on this team. The streets will never forget.
