If you’re mad, I’m not going to tell you that you shouldn’t be mad. If you want to burn your Knicks paraphernalia, starting with your No. 17 jersey, I’m not going to advise you against that bonfire. Though I do ask a) that you be careful, and b) how in the world did you make it this far after enduring the past 11 years?
You are more than entitled to be angry about the fact that Jeremy Lin is now a Rocket. Trust me, I enjoyed writing about Linsanity every inch as much as you enjoyed watching it, thrilling to it. You can rail against the owner with both fists shaking to the sky. He’s earned your wrath across his stewardship of this team. Have at it.
You want to switch your loyalties to the Brooklyn Nets?
Go with God, I say (and see how long it takes for Joe Johnson to get on your nerves every bit as much as Melo used to).
But here are a few truths — some of them inconvenient — you might want to ponder on your way out the door. Take them, leave them, throw them on top of the fire if you want, that’s fine. Rooting interests are personal things. You want to feel fury? Feel fury. You are allowed that much as a fan. Passion comes with two faces.
Truth 1(a): The Knicks would not have made the playoffs without Lin last year. Indisputable. They were a dead team at 8-15, then Mike D’Antoni inserted Lin against the Nets on the night before the Super Bowl, and in an eyeblink they were 15-15 — much of this done without Amar’e Stoudemire in the lineup, all of it without Carmelo Anthony.
Truth 1(b): The Knicks would not have made the playoffs without a 12-5 burst down the stretch. The Knicks were a half-game ahead of the Bucks for the last playoff slot on March 24, one game under .500. They finished as the seventh seed, six games over. And every second of this was done with Lin wearing civvies on the sidelines.
Truth 2(a): Linsanity was, well, otherworldly. It was. The highlights were breathtaking: the Nets game, the T’wolves game, the Lakers game, the Mavericks game. The end of the Raptors game. The teeth of Linsanity was an 8-1 stretch beginning with the Nets and ending with the Mavs, and Lin went berserk: 25.0 points, 9.2 assists, 51-percent shooting, 33 percent from 3. If you like modern metrics, he had an average game score (which adds and subtracts every meaningful stat) of 18.9 during that stretch. By comparison LeBron James, the league MVP, was 22.9 for the year and Chris Paul’s was 19.3.
Truth 2(b): And here’s where we release the hounds. During that 17-game stretch to end the season, here are some numbers for another member of the Knicks, performing when every game was critical to the cause: 29.1 points, 7.3 rebounds, 3.4 assists, 49 percent shooting, 43 percent from 3. Game-score average of 20.8.
Yes. That would be Carmelo Anthony.
And here is something to ponder as you absorb where the Knicks are right now: Anthony is their best player. He is the team’s superstar. You may not like that. You may not like him. Again, entirely your right. But it’s interesting to measure the hysteria growing at the prospect of a Lin-free New York.
Here is unofficial Truth 3(a): The Knicks didn’t just let Walt Frazier, circa 1973, escape the building. And Truth 3(b): They also didn’t let Carmelo Anthony, circa 2012, leave, either.
Going forward, that’s something Anthony will deal with every night at the Garden. Forgetting his ridiculous “ridiculous” comment the other day, and bypassing the conspiracy theories that he pushed Lin out the door, it is on him now to become — what? Invaluable? Likeable? Loveable? Is any of that even possible?
But here’s something that might be useful to remember whenever you mention how different the Knicks’ season would have looked without Jeremy Lin:
It would’ve looked awful without Melo, too.
You’re mad? Good for you for caring so much. Maybe Lin will be a 10-time
All-Star, and you can take solace in being right here. But this is the last inconvenient truth, part 4(a): We don’t know, one way or the other. Nobody does. Twenty-five starts isn’t enough time to know. It just isn’t.
Part 4(b)? We know about Melo. He’s proven it. Here. Even if it’s convenient to forget that sometimes.
michael.vaccaro@nypost.com