Jimmy Sez

In the euphoria immediately following the Knicks' chef's kiss on one of the most remarkable championship runs I'll ever witness, I had multiple friends insist that we attend the ensuing parade parade up Broadway. I mostly didn't want to do it. At my age I'm prefectly comfortable not doing crazy things anymore, but when the Knicks accomplish something you've spent most of your life thinking would never happen, well... On Thursday morning I woke up before 4 AM to pick up the friend that I watched Game 4 with. We made our way to Hamilton, NJ where we would start the train leg of our trip. I expected the parade to be extremely crowded, but the scene at the Hamilton train station at 5 AM led me to believe that it would be even more crowded than that. We arrived at Penn Station by 6:30 AM and headed downtown on the C train. I heard from some Long Island friends that they managed to get on the same train as us. We planned to meet up near Fulton St. As we got to the to...

It's past my bedtime. I'm sitting at a bar about a mile from my house in southeastern Pennsylvania and about 100 miles The World's Most Famous Arena which is being broadcast on a 10-foot TV screen on the other side of the room. Sitting next to me is another transplanted New Yorker. We promised ourselves we would get together in the wild to watch at least one game of the NBA Finals. As lifelong Knicks fans, we know that these opportunities don't come along very often. An hour before this moment, our choice of watching this game at a bar seemed unwise. The San Antonio Spurs defense was suffocating the Knicks' backcourt. In the rare instance that they had an open look at the basket, shots that were falling with ease for the last two months were clanking off the rim. On the other end of the court, the Knicks were struggling mightily to close out on Spurs shooters who couldn't miss from deep. New York was losing by 29 points on their home court in the third quarter ...