He is an easy target because he makes the most money, because he takes the most shots, because he already has declared he is putting himself on the market once summer comes. Maybe all of this would be less of an issue if
Carmelo Anthony had been able to sneak the Knicks past the Pacers last spring.
Or if they could beat anybody at Madison Square Garden this autumn.
But here is the thing about Anthony: he gives a damn. He plays hard every minute he’s on the floor. He scraps for rebounds when his team is down 15, and he exhorts his teammates when his team is up 15 (rare as those occasions have been recently). He cares, deeply. And the losing, it is killing him.
So does having to make statements like this:
“Some nights,” he said Saturday afternoon, “we don’t come to play.”
Those are damning words, fighting words, coming from anybody. They are especially so coming from Anthony, the one Knick who gives you an honest day’s work every day. Fifty-five minutes he played the other night in Milwaukee. Forty-two Saturday, in another gruesome home loss, this one 95-87 to Memphis Grizzlies, a team with its own issues.
The Knicks have played 14 games so far at home, lost 10 of them, with Oklahoma City next up on the marquee Christmas Day. They were 31-10 at home last year, and there were stretches where it seemed they could beat you if you played them 7-on-5. Last year, against a Grizzlies team a lot better than this one, they raced to a 71-41 lead at the Garden.
“I take pride in trying to win games at home,” Knicks coach Mike Woodson said. “That was the whole beauty the last two years. We’ve been slow in that area and it’s put us in a hole.”
That’s true, but it’s really just an excuse, a flimsy one, same as the Knicks’ allergies to noontime starts and orange uniforms. This is the real problem: so many of the Knicks, who have accomplished nothing, who have won nothing, spend huge chunks of every game on cruise control.
You know what made this game even worse? The fact the Knicks were getting crushed by 19 points midway through the fourth quarter and damn near whittled it down to a one-possession game when Tyson Chandler made one out of two from the line to make it 91-87 with 25.6 to go. In college, in high school, in CYO, you pat a team on the back for showing that resolve.
In the NBA? There’s only one question to ask:
Where the hell was that the first 42 minutes?
“We went on that run out of sheer guts and playing all-out,” Woodson said. “But you’ve got to do that for all 48 minutes. I’ve got to get them to do that.”
Yes, if nothing else, if the sand is really running thin on Woodson’s time with this team, he needs to get them to do that. He needs to get them to play with the same kind of force, the same kind of energy, the same kind of passion their best player exhibits. Again: accuse Melo of whatever you like, starting with his default position of running too many isos for himself (especially if you want to see Iman Shumpert and Andrea Bargnani miss a few more shots every game).
But he shows up. He plays hard. Maybe that’s supposed to be part of the deal, maybe you aren’t supposed to get a medal for that. But if they did hand them out, Anthony would be the one Knick who would get one every day.
The one Knick who seems to give a damn as much as you do.
“I don’t think it has to do with basketball,” said Anthony, who made 11 of 22 for 30 points and added seven rebounds, when he was asked about the Knicks’ woes. “I think it’s in our heads. As individuals we have to get it out of our own heads. We have to start having fun again.”
Fun would be nice. But work comes first. Forty-eight minutes’ worth. You want to kill Melo? Have at it. But understand one thing: if the Knicks had a roster of players who played the game with the ferocity Melo does, you would have a lot different team. And a lot different record.