By Sam Rubenstein

Oh.

A new low for the Knicks franchise.

Again.

Last night the plan was to meet up with some friends at a bar with the NFL package to watch the Green Bay-Dallas battle for NFC supremacy on one TV, and the Knicks trying to make a statement that they aren’t the most pathetic punching bag in the league on another TV. We were all running late, so I watched most of the first half of the Knicks-Celtics game at home, and while N.Y. was being selfish with the ball, not playing defense, getting outhustled, and unable to hit a shot, it wasn’t anything worse than what we’re used to. It was a blowout to be sure, but it wasn’t quite at the level of epic embarrassment that it would soon become.

By the time I got to the bar, the Boys and Packers was shaping up to be a really good game. Brett Favre was knocked out and Aaron Rodgers stepped up and was looking like the new Brady/Romo, filling in and taking over. I turned my head to view the basketball game, which was on a smaller TV, and the score at the time seemed impossible. I tapped my friend on the shoulder and asked him to read the score of the Knicks game because my eyes were clearly deceiving me.

“60-32? Wow they’re getting killed.”

“Look again.”

“EIGHTY TO THIRTY TWO?!?!?!?!?”

People at the bar stopped watching the biggest NFC game of the year, in the most popular sport in this country to watch a basketball game featuring a team they hate, to WITNESS with macabre fascination. Yes, I am bringing back the old LeBron marketing slogan for this one, because the same feeling of amazement you get from watching his climb to the top, you can also get from watching just how low the once proud New York Knicks franchise can sink. I can not remember ever seeing a game where a team got doubled. It’s possible that in the days of the hand-check, the Pacers vs. Pistons, before the rule changes, that a team might have won a game 90-45, but that seems too far-fetched.

When the Knicks were down 82-41, I thought it could happen.

Obviously, when you are down by 41 points, it’s been a horrible night. The other team is having its way with you, and feel free to enjoy every possible double meaning of that phrase. But this is when the team that’s winning – a team who’s glaring weakness according to the never to be allowed to speak publicly again Quentin Richardson – has its superstars on the bench, looking like they already took showers and now they’re just hanging out.

The score became something close to 100-50. The Knicks were still getting double murdered, but that means the Celtics were up by 41 and then they went on a 18-9 run, or something close to that. I can’t dig through the stats to find out how accurate this is. It’s like examining a dead body with a leg that’s been broken with the bone sticking out and twisted out of place, and there’s blood everywhere, brains leaking out, a look of horror on the deceased’s face, perhaps they lost control of their bodily functions along the way. Delightful. Lovely.

Who were these Celtics that turned the laughable into the cryable to the laughably cryable? At first it was Big Baby, and Scalabrine. But they weren’t scrubby enough. Leon Powe! Gabe Pruitt! I think the Bill Simmons character from NBA Live got out there and scored 4 points, had a few steals.

But hey, Nate Robinson hit a buzzer beater three from halfcourt! It’s the NBA, buzzer beaters are great! If that particular buzzer beater were an NBA player, it would have been Nate. So the Knicks didn’t set a franchise low for points scored. Bravo.

The “Fire Isiah” heat is now hotter than ever. Guess what though? James Dolan does not care. He’ll fire Isiah when he feels like it, on his terms. The good news, and if I’m wrong about this, then oh my God there is no hope for humanity, but the Knicks have hit rock bottom. Is there a bottom lower than rock bottom? They would be there. Things can only get better.
Right?

Right?