My cell phone started to hum about six seconds after J.R. Smith’s emergency 3-pointer missed the mark. Friends.
Specifically, Knick-fan friends.
“Are you kidding?”
“R U #$@#$$% SERIOUS?”
“This is how it ends? Really? This way?”
“They sucked me back in. And now they spit me out.”
And so forth. If you have Knick-fan friends, you probably received the same battery of buzzings in the aftermath.
It’s remarkable that a team that presently sits at 33-44 with five games left in its season actually had the opportunity to have this kind of moment, cause this kind of pain, 77 games deep into a desultory season, but you can thank the Leastern Conference for that.
Point is, as a fan, you sometimes have to ask yourself a question: Was this better than what 33-44 should, in theory, be about? Most years, 33-44 means you’ve been ticking the days off the calendar till offseason, no matter how hot you might get in the garbage time. Would it have been better to be able to write off the season in January than to chase the mirage all the way to Game 77?
Only to have that possession send you into spasms all over again?
It’s a question Mets fans certainly have had to ask themselves time and again the past few years. By now, they are half numb and half for the five listless seasons most recently in their rearview mirror, because these were teams that could be described as non-competitive at best, unwatchable at worst.
That’s bad.
But was it as bad as Aaron Heilman serving up a room-service fastball to Yadier Molina, and Carlos Beltran frozen by an Adam Wainwright curveball?
Was it as bad as Tom Glavine getting tattooed in the first inning of Game 162, then assuring the world that, yes, the sun would rise in the morning and he would be OK despite the fact the Mets had blown a 7 ½ game lead with seven to go?
Was it as bad as having the Marlins beat you again on the final day of the season a year later, on the last day Shea Stadium would ever open its gates, when fans were forced to sit through a postgame ceremony when all they really wanted to do was bang their heads against a wall?
Which is better?
Which is worse?
I can’t speak for you, of course, and certainly can’t speak for the majority, but I have to believe as painful as an elimination game late in a year can be, that certainly beats a blindingly endless string of no-account games beginning midyear. Right?
Awful as the Red Sox’s comeback in the 2004 playoffs might have been for Yankees fans to endure, you would rather have that happen every year than the way 2013 ended — out of the playoffs, watching everyone else try to battle for the crown, out of the area. Right?
So, yes: This stung. The texts still were flying among my buddies Saturday morning, the aggravation of a lousy season finally bearing its final fruit, its final aggravation, the reality there likely will be no miracle ending, no fantasy finish. It stinks. It hurts. But it’s better to have a reason to get kicked in the teeth in early April than to have checked out in late January.
Right?
Whack Back at Vac
Gary Wilbur: I see the Tampa Bay Rays’ policy of “attendance by invitation only” is continuing this year at the Rube Goldberg Dome. Time to move to Montreal!
Vac: Can’t we just swap them out with the boys from Flushing?
Jerry Jacobs: Donald Trump should make the Wilpons an offer they can’t refuse and buy the Mets. Trump vs. Steinbrenner will be huge.
Vac: Rescuing the Mets would be a far greater civic project than the Bills. Sorry, Buffalo.
@Sambolef: Good or bad, watching Masahiro Tanaka pitch I feel like Ralphie Boy watching Norton addressing the golf ball.
@MikeVacc: Best as I can see, it is “Kon’nichiwa, bōru” that best translates to “Hellllllooooooo, ball!”
Bill Green: Do you know that if Sylvester Stallone named the female lead in his “Rocky” movies Yolanda instead of Adrian, the most famous line in there film would be: “Yo, Yo!”
Vac: You have to believe that would’ve inspired quite the show-stopper of a tune for the Broadway incarnation, right?
Vac’s Whacks
Don’t think this is spoiling anything by saying the “How I Met Your Mother” finale made me yearn for the “Seinfeld” finale. Disappointing.
There’s a profound difference between expressing true regret and following the orders of spin masters. I thought Boomer Esiason’s apology and explanation regarding his comments on Daniel Murphy’s paternity leave were both genuine and quite human.
Kevin Cook’s book “Kitty Genovese: the Murder, the Bystanders, the Crime That Changed America” is as good a slice of history as you will read, a terrific story about a terrible New York moment.
It seemed like the whole city suffered a collective buzzkill after that final Knicks possession Friday night, didn’t it?