The story is told by the starting lineups. For the visiting Indiana Pacers, it’s Dahntay Jones, Danny Granger, Roy Hibbert, Brandon Rush and T.J. Ford. For the Nets, it’s Terrence Williams, Trenton Hassell, Brook Lopez, Chris Douglas-Roberts and Rafer Alston.

Wait a minute, scratch that. This story is told by one starter: Trenton Hassell. Trenton’s a nice guy and a great story, but when he’s in your starting lineup, you’re probably in trouble.

Not that you need look so hard to realize how much trouble the Nets are in. They’re 0-10 for starters, and speaking of starters, Devin Harris and Yi Jianlian are over on the bench in what appear to be matching velvet blazers. I’m not sure what Courtney Lee is wearing, but it sure isn’t a Nets uniform. And Jarvis Hayes, Eduardo Najera, Tony Battie and Keyon Dooling won’t be joining us, either. So, yes. Trouble.

FIRST QUARTER

Danny Granger opens things up with an and-1, and less than two minutes into the game the Nets have three team fouls and are being shut out.

Trenton Hassell comes with the old-man style back-in, takes a wild shot, and looks around because he didn’t get the call. Um, hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re Trenton Hassell.

Dahntay Jones delivers a mean fake, and coasts in for an easy layup. He’s got six, and the Nets call a timeout down 11-2 with 8:36 to go. Too bad there isn’t a “wait until Devin Harris is healthy” timeout.

The Nets make a little run, i.e. score some points, but Luther Head buries a three on the break, it’s 25-12 Pacers, and the Nets take another timeout. The funereal silence is worse than boos.

When you’re going to Trenton Hassell in the post, you’re probably…well, you know.

Hey look, it’s Tyler Hansbrough! Travelling. Besides the bulgy eyes, he runs kind of like a zombie. It’s honestly kind of scary.

Brook Lopez is good. He cleans up a miss, has 10 points and five boards early.

Pacers lead, 31-21, after 1.

SECOND QUARTER

The Nets come out and start the second with a crisp over-and-back turnover, just like Lawrence diagrammed.

Second way you can tell the Nets are depleted: Sean Williams is in the game.

Perhaps buoyed by the rousing success of their over-and-back, the Nets are turning the ball over every way possible. Offensive fouls, travelling violations, maybe even a three seconds. Keeping the refs on their toes.

And we have a center battle brewing. Hibbert gets isoed in the post, hits a hook over Lopez. Lopez misses an outside jumper, and the Pacers go right back to Hibbert, who scores again. Lopez hits his next jumper, and Hibbert gets another iso, this time on the baseline. He tosses up a tough shot off the glass. Buckets. Nets trail 41-27 with 6:55 to go in the half, and call another timeout.

Josh McRoberts, who looks like an all-growed-up version of one of the Cobra Kai, is the only Pacer in white shoes. Apparently the NBA lifted the whole matching-shoe rule recently, but it still looks kind of silly. Especially since he’s wearing black socks. PUT HIM IN A BODYBAG, YEEEEAAAAAAHH!!!!!!!!

To be honest, Danny Granger looks kind of lackluster out there. He’s got 14, which is respectable, but he’s just drifting. Coasting. Whatever.

Pacers lead 54-46 at the half.

THIRD QUARTER

The Pacers open the third with a 9-0 run before Brook Lopez catches a dunk and follows with a jumper. He’s got 21 points and six rebounds and my All-Star vote. Heck, it’s not like he’ll beat Da-white anyway.

Lopez from the outside again. Has 21 points, six boards, three assists.

Time passes. Pacers are offensively ineffective for the remainder of the quarter, yet still lead 67-60 at the end. After that 9-0 barrage, they’re outscored 14-4 the rest of the way. What the NBA needs more of is 14-13 quarters. Sigh.

FOURTH QUARTER

This game doesn’t really have much going for it, half the half-crowd has already left, the outcome was determined two minutes in, and here’s Roy Hibbert diving after loose balls in the fourth quarter up 12. You gotta like the guy.

And you have to reward the effort. TJ Ford hits Hibbert underneath for a pretty reverse layup. He’s got 17 and 8 on 8 of 10 shooting. Get this guy more touches!

Brook Lopez buries another 12-footer. Nice arc, although the Nets need to keep him closer to the basket. That’s 24 and 12.

Hibbert again, with the putback. 79-67 Pacers. Timeout, 5:36 to go.

TJ Ford swings the ball around the perimeter to Lawrence Frank.

Lopez mosesmalones his own miss. 26 and 14 sounds like an All-Star to me.

The Dread Pirate Chris Douglas-Roberts scores, and inexplicably it’s a six-point game with three minutes to go, 83-77.

That’s their best (and last) punch, though. Final score, Pacers 91, Nets 83.

POSTGAME

Pacer coach Jim O’Brien (who I’d entirely forgotten was coaching the Pacers until the final minute of the third quarter) opens his remarks with a statement that could be almost seen as patronizing: “They’ve competed against every opponent, and it’s a shame that they haven’t been able to get a victory, but it’s not for lack of effort.” Says the guy whose team shot 39.2 percent (the starting backcourt of Rush and Ford went 4-20), scored 13 points in the third quarter, and still led wire-to-wire.

In the locker room, an iced-down Danny Granger is more succinct: “That was an ugly-ass game, huh? Did we even break 90?”

Hibbert finishes with 19 points on 9-11 shooting. Never forget!

The good news for the now 0-11 Nets? They can’t dwell on the latest loss. They’re in Milwaukee tonight to take on the Bucks, where a white-hot Brandon Jennings will go up against Rafer, who played 42 minutes and has no real backup. Um, did we say that was good news? Nevermind.

Yep, I’m solo today. But I’ve been here before. I’m a big boy, I can do this. The Apple was inadvertently cast out, and this is my Speakerboxxx. Let’s do this.

PREGAME

The notes on the home locker room dry-erase board are short and to the point. When you’re 0-3, there’s no point in getting too caught up in details. There are three directives for the offense and two for the defense, led by two more general messages. Underlined. They read as follows:

GET YOURSELF READY TO PLAY

PLAY WITH MORE INTENSITY THAN OPPONENT

OK then. The Knicks season is just a week old, they’ve already lost to the Bobcats and heard boos in the home opener, but hands are on the wheel. This thing’s getting turned around.

FIRST QUARTER

– Presumably the Hornets—who finished 49-33 last season and moved Tyson Chandler for Emeka Okafor over the summer—fancy themselves a playoff team and legit contender. Morris Peterson in the starting lineup says otherwise.

– The Knicks are still introed to Biggie’s “Hypnotize”, (which may have been written about the ’94 team: “Never lose, never choose to, bruise crews who // do something to us, talk go through us”) but thankfully they don’t come out of the crowd this time. Danilo Gallinari AKA Danny Gallz (his Sopranos name) is starting, as is Larry Hughes. Guess he’s back in the rotation. Meanwhile, Al Harrington is relegated to the bench.

– And Emokafor (copyright @ticktock6, all rights reserved) tips ahead to David West, who puts the Hornets up 2-0 with but five seconds gone.

– The Hornets take an early 6-2 lead, and, if they were blessed with hindsight, should appreciate it. Because the Knicks improbably embark on a 14-0 run that has Byron Scott calling for time. Presumably it’s to discuss the Hornets’s continued viability as an NBA franchise, and quite frankly, it doesn’t look good.

– David West breaks the Hornets drought, Hughes answers, but the Hornets find Emokafor inside, then West again. They’re clawing their way back. So of course Scott decides to pretend he’s up 10, bringing in Peja, Hilton Armstrong and Bobby Brown. Who? Exactly. Byron may not be an NBA coach, but he did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.

– That said, when Peja is on, it’s something to behold. “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” My man John Keats said that. John Keats, that’s my man. Two threes and a two, without even brushing the rim.

– Still, the Knicks lead 31-24 at the end of the first.

SECOND QUARTER

– Peja has his first misfire, throwing an off-balance pass to the scorer’s table. He would have been better off firing blindly towards the rim—it probably would have gone in.

– An Al Harrington corner three stretches the Knicks lead to 38-26. Did we mention that Chris Paul is still on the bench?

– Chris Paul comes back in at the 9:11 mark. NEVER FORGET.

– Darius Songaila! That’s five straight points for the Hornets. 38-31, Knicks.

– Toney Douglas checks in before Jordan Hill. It appears that the Knicks’s draft strategy of “draft the best dreadlocked player available” was sound for Renaldo Balkman, not so much with Hill. He’ll get some PT if this game goes to a 17th overtime and everyone else fouls out. Maybe.

– Emokafor blocks Harrington, Jared Jeffries converts on the follow, and cue snippet of John Mellencamp’s “Small Town.” I guess there’s no song called “We Would Trade You For A Dead Guy Provided They Come Off The Books This Summer.”

– It comes up on the MSG feed that Nate Robinson (on crutches) will be out for 10 to 14 days with a sprained ankle. Well, that might do it for the Kobe IVs.

– Jared Jeffries is a “glue guy,” by which I think they mean he should be turned into glue.

– David Lee hits a jumper over Emokafor. Lee looks way more comfortable from outside this year—last year it looks like he was shooting jumpers because he had to, this year it’s because he knows he can hit them. He’s got 14 points and three boards, Knicks lead 54-51.

– Make that four boards.

– The Knicks are up 58-52 at halftime. Funny, I thought “Knicks halftime lead” was a purely theoretical construct, like “four-sided triangle” or “tasteful Kanye interruption.” Someone’s winning a Nobel for this.

THIRD QUARTER

– A Chris Duhon three opens the scoring, Lee gets a runout layup, and the Knicks lead is back to double digits before Byron even stands up.

– Jumpers and Jared Jeffries conspire to give the entire lead back. Mo Pete follows a miss to put the Hornets up 70-69. Although it doesn’t last. Not that the Knicks aren’t trying—Jeffries misses a two-footer by a foot.

– The Hornets run the lead to six, a Hughes triple cuts the lead in half, and then Jared Jeffries hits Hilton Armstrong in the elbow with his face. DOWN GOES JEFFRIES. Cue trainers, blood, giant bandage, time outs. The bandage on his brow actually partially covers his eye, and I can’t help but wonder if it’ll improve his shot. As Jeffries heads to the line, you can clearly see him repeating “Which one of y’all got me?” It was Hilton Armstrong in the paint with the candlestick, dude. Get a clue. He hits one of two.

– The Hornets cling to a tenuous 81-77 lead heading into the fourth.

FOURTH QUARTER

– Bobby Brown and Hilton Armstrong are in the game to start the fourth, and Chris Paul isn’t. Either Byron Scott is trying to get fired or…well, there’s really no other explanation. The Knicks score five straight points off a Harrington and one and a Darko Milicic baby hook, setting up the Uptempo Collapse™.

– Al Harrington gets a non-traditional two-point play by missing a pair of free throws but tracking down the rebound and scoring. Bobby Brown hits a three to tie things, but this may not be a good thing. Darius Songaila fires up an airball, Brown takes a ridiculous jumper, and Byron pulls them both before things get too obvious.

– I didn’t read all that carefully, but I’m pretty sure one of the Knick defensive directives wasn’t “Leave Chris Paul WIIIIDE open for threes from the top of the key. He can’t hit those.”

– Al Harrington tackles Chris Paul in the backcourt for a 15-yard loss. The refs don’t call anything, despite it being an obvious safety.

– Harrington is aggressive. Jumper over West. Knicks lead 100-92 Lawler’s Law. A Lee layup stretches the Knick lead to 10 with four minutes to go.

– This is the play that puts it out of reach: A Paul driving baseline would-be layup is blocked by Harrington, Harrington misses a corner three that would have caused utter pandemonium, but Paul is called for the loose-ball foul. That’s his 3rd. 2:50 on the clock.

– The rest is purely academic. Paul hits a few more threes (his jumper looks terrific), but the Knicks score enough to stay out of reach. Final score, 117-111, Knicks.

POSTGAME

The Knicks locker room actually opens before Byron Scott comes out. This is unusual. Presumably he can’t figure out how to turn the doorknob with his arms crossed. Or he’s working on his resignation speech.

Chris Paul speaks a lot about defense, pointedly ignoring the Bobby Brown (literally) in the room. Some out-of-context snippets that I clumsily thumbed into my G1:

“We had a lot momentum going into the fourth. Our biggest issue right now is we can’t stop anybody. Every time they needed a basket, they got it.”

“At the end of they day, we gotta stop the guys who are in front of us. Can’t count on help.”

“My whole thing is we can learn and try and gel and all that, but we can win at the same time.”

“I can’t remember the last time we were under .500, let alone 1-3.”

“I hate to lose, it’s nothin’ to do with our team. I hate to lose more than I like to win. I can’t stand it.”

“We gotta find a way to finish each quarter, the last 1:30. 1:45.”

“I think our biggest issue right now is trust.”

“We can learn from other teams, like the Spurs, like the Celtics.”

Then, during a media shift change, unprovoked, and as much to himself as to anyone: “We gonna be all right though. It’s a long season. A looong season. The Cavs lost their first two games, people think they’re gonna win a championship.” The way things have gone so far, it might be a longer season for Paul than he ever imagined.

The Last (?) Opening Night in the Swamp

Let’s get right into this, shall we?

PREGAME

The visitor’s locker room, which clearly will retain its Rikers-like charm until the Izod Center goes to that great Xanadu in the sky, is quiet. Too quiet. That is, until Vince Carter briefly emerges from the back room, Biggie clearly audible from his Beats. Guest passes, tickets, that sort of thing. His appearance is a cameo. Moments later, the same door opens with a literal crash as Matt Barnes bursts through it. He looks behind the door to see whether he broke anything—which is funny, seeing that the entire room could be replaced for about $37. “Hey Marc!” (pronounced like “Marcy” without the “Y”—chump, you’re JV) he yells to Marcin Gortat, who’s quietly trying to get through a plate of chicken fingers. “That’s the steroids!” (He’s joking.)

There’s a Phillies fitted on top of someone’s locker, and I wonder whose it is. Oh yes, Jameer Nelson.

Dwight Howard practices running sky-hooks with Patrick Ewing. His touch is soft, and all of the shots I witness go down. That said, I’d be stunned to see him make two in a row in a game. Howard, as always, looks like a chiseled Adonis. Ewing? Not so much. His legs look pretty much the same from his playing days, but he’s packed on a few pounds up top. The Patrick Chewing Snickers ads are more than apropos and it’s not readily apparent whether the emphasis should be on “Chewing” or “Snickers”.

I’m watching this from beneath the basket, chatting with longtime NBA photographer Nat Butler. Gotta love home openers—they’re like the first day of school, only if the first day of school was awesome.

A day after being called “a dog,” repeatedly on PTI—guest starring Bill Simmons!—Vince Carter receives a wonderful, and mostly deserved, standing ovation from the almost-packed house.

I roll up on longtime Nets PA announcer and PR impresario Gary Sussman to ask whether we’ll get at least one “DID YOU SEE…VC!” tonight. “You’ll see,” he says. “Then you can write about it.” Roughly 20 minutes later he introduces Carter first with his traditional and ever-classy “Ladies and gentlemen, he is, Vince Carter.” The applause comes not only from the fans, but from Sly and half-Sly, as well as quasi-Net Sean Williams. Vince has a big smile on his face the whole time. This ain’t Toronto.

The Nets come out to the mediocre “It’s My Time” by Fabolous. Sebastian Telfair’s chain has no comment.

Devin Harris is the Nets oldest starter, and he still gets carded when he tries to get into R movies. Then again, Yi might be 46 years old.

FIRST QUARTER

First possession. Vince Carter catches the ball up top, blows by Courtney Lee, and serves up a big helping of two-handed dunk. The game isn’t 10 seconds old yet and the Nets are in a whole mess of trouble.

Tim Donaghy would like to remind you that Dick Bavetta called a foul on Dwight Howard in the first 28 seconds. Sensing that Tim Donaghy probably innately reminded a lot of people of this, Bavetta does a quick 180 and sticks to Brook Lopez’s every move like white on rice milk for the rest of the evening.

Speaking of One B Lo, his D was lacking on the first two possessions, as he got caught half-and-half trying to help Courtney Lee on a VC/D-12 screen-and-roll, and allowed Howard to slip behind him way too easily for a dunk. Leave it at this: it wasn’t his night.

Vince Carter finds Mickael Pietrus for another dunk. It’s too easy. No, no, it’s TOO easy. As Jake says, “How Not To Cover The Pick And Roll, By Courtney Lee and Brook Lopez.”

Nelly’s “E.I.” blares after a made Yi jumper. That’s a big bag of “meh” if you ask me. Now, if Yi wore a tiny band-aid on his face…

Jason Williams enters the game at the 9:06 mark. Must be nice to take a year off, then come back and play with Dwight Howard and Vince Carter. His entire playbook should be “take two dribbles, throw ball in vicinity of the rim.”

Vince’s aggressiveness is so impressive early, I’m going to invent a word: Hellaquent (aggressive yet eloquent). Half Man / Half Re-acclimating to Familiar Surroundings is balling like a ferocious ballerina. Consider: his one near-turnover ended up in Howard’s hands for an easy dunk. That, along with questionable shot-selection on one long three (relatively open), were the only mistakes we saw on the offensive end for Vince.

Vince buries a three, and true to his word, Sussman drops the “THAT’S A V…C… three.” Excellent.

After the game, SVG deadpanned some jokes to convey how brilliant he was early on. Speaking of SVG, he’s the best NBA postgame interview this side of Gregg Popovich. There needs to be a show that’s consists exclusively of people asking SVG and Pop funny and dumb questions.

A question goes along press row as to whether Dwight will finish with more dunks or made free-throws. Um, this is Dwight Howard we’re talking about. He’s got five dunks—and a double-double—in the first quarter.

Courtney Lee, probably pumped to try and stick it to his former team, looks more confident on offense early on than he did in the opener, draining a pair of jumpers and taking it hard to the rim for an and-one.

Pretty sure Chris Douglas-Roberts’s tattoos have footnotes.

Dwight finishes the quarter 2-9 from the line. Konate’s reaction: “he hit two?”

SECOND QUARTER

Marcin Gortat and JJ Redick check in and invite you to spend some time at the concessions stand. Don’t forget to tip your beer pourer.

Completely bald up top and hometown New York swagger on full display, there’s something disturbingly “Starbury” about Rafer Alston. It’s not anything serious, just a creepy vibe.

Skip: “Come on, guys, I was the reason they made the And 1 Mixtape!” Teammates: “What’s a ‘mixtape,’ grandpa?”

As for his play, he does a good job running the second unit early in the quarter before everything goes cold, which, as Ben Couch of the Nets wisely points out, illustrates how much the team misses Keyon Dooling. They need Skip to create. If he’s forced to jack up too many shots, the offense, already at a talent disadvantage, can stagnate, which just kills this team.

The Nets continue to sponsor everything not nailed down, and each substitution is greeted by the familiar (to residents of the New York area, at least) PC Richards whistle. It’s only the second quarter of the first game of the season and it’s already driving me completely insane.

So if Brook Lopez gets Roy Rogers during timeouts does that mean Eddy Curry gets KFC?

And does Roy Rogers call the ball a “biscuit”?

One can only imagine: “Keep the biscuit high, Brook. Don’t let them swipe at the biscuit.”

You know what? That joke’s not fair to Eddy, who reportedly lost weight. I should have put Shaq there, but Shaq could make fun of my mom to millions in less than 140 characters and we just can’t have that.

Former Net Ryan Anderson is doing all of the proverbial little things: sneaking backdoor unnoticed, spacing well, draining back-breaking threes, back-tapping rebounds to teammates, etc. Rocking a fresh goatee, he looks older, too. And, honestly, we’re happy for Ryan, who had an up-and-down rookie campaign. If he keeps it up, he should really be able to carve out a niche for himself in the league.

The aforementioned Anderson and Carter hit back-to-backbreaking threes extending the Magic lead to 10 with 3:25 to go in the quarter. It’s looking like a blowout—and then Carter drives the lane, steps on Harris’s foot, and goes down writhing in pain. The Nets score on the other end, and Skip calls a time out. Carter is still down. Judging from his past, he’ll either be out for five minutes or five weeks. Could go either way.

And oh yeah, speaking of Anderson, before the game a certain national writer tells me that “when all is said and done, that trade will be remembered as the deal where the Nets gave up Ryan Anderson.” He’s not joking.

Devin Harris drives, doesn’t get the call, and decides to register an informal protest. By the time he turns around, the Magic break is a cloud of dust, and Redick finishes with a reverse layup.

The Nets dancers gyrate in some black spandex bodysuit-styled outfits with red Skeletor organ imprints on them. A sight to see, and that’s the best I can describe it.

Magic up six at the half. Carter has not returned.

THIRD QUARTER

Carter is still in the locker room as the second half begins, but the Magic still manage to open the quarter on a 7-0 run. Did we mention Rashard Lewis is suspended? Lawrence Frank calls a time out, presumably to tell his Nets whatever it is he didn’t tell them at halftime. “Stop sucking” would be a good place to start.

Jameer Nelson, hampered by foul trouble in the first half, comes out resolved to get more into the flow. He draws a foul, drains a three in transition and makes a layup following a Nets’ timeout. All of his contributions help to make up for VC’s absence.

Devin Harris has a drive to the basket rudely snuffed by Ryan Anderson, and Bavetta adds insult to injury by decreeing that the ball hit last off Harris’s head. Magic ball. Clearly Bavetta just wants this series to go seven.

Due to poor shooting, Devin Harris has been more impressive as a creator because all five of his assists have legitimately generated baskets for teammates; pretty sure there were no cheapies there. The only reason Yi Jianlian was the sole Net to shoot over 50 percent from the floor against this vaunted Magic defense is that Devin hit him in stride with a pair of long distance pinpoint passes on the break for easy dunks.

Judging from the injury report that just came down press row, either Vince Carter’s return is questionable or his sprained left ankle is.

Shorten the Nets’ collective penetration to ‘pen’, and Dwight Howard has been their pen’s eraser. Dude looks like Georgetown Patrick Ewing out there, catching shots for blocks, altering everything in sight and covering a ton of space with the quickness. He might not be able to hit a free throw, but the man owns the paint like Home Depot.

That said, a bit of free advice for the Nets: STOP DRIVING DIRECTLY INTO DWIGHT HOWARD. If insanity is defined as repeating the same actions and expecting a different result, the Nets are f**king crazy.

An underwhelming showing for DJ Kool Bob Barnes.

Although he does got rhymes like dimes.

FOURTH QUARTER

The Magic are keeping the Nets at arms length, which is just fine when you have Dwight Howard’s arms.

The Nets have spaced the floor pretty well most of the night, but on many possessions there just isn’t enough movement. If anyone but Devin is barreling into the lane off of a late shot clock ISO, it’s not a good thing.

Brandon Bass continues a marvelous second half, and absolutely torches Yi on a dribble drive. This following a few midrange jumpers. Bass is a fantastic piece and a great addition, as we noted in July. I consider walking up to him after the game and beginning a conversation with, “so you’re good at basketball, what’s that like?”

Bass should be made an honorary Davis brother.

Devin Harris is NBA Jam on-fire, with a series of top-of-the-key jumpers, but it’s not all that impressive when you start out 4-13.

The Magic are up 11 with 3:11 to go, and that’s all the incentive people need to try and beat the traffic on the turnpike. They file out quietly like they’re leaving a wake.

The Nets can’t make a big shot when they need one to cut into the lead. When the Magic need a stop, they get a stop. Story of the game right there, condensed and boiled down like a hardboiled egg resting on a book of basketball cliches. Or something.

Final score, 95-85, Orlando. Vince never does make it back to the bench.

POSTGAME

20, 22, 4 and +16 for Dwight Howard. “That’s not your mother, that’s a man, baby!”

Stan Van on Dwight: “That was the defensive player of the year playing like the defensive player of the year—he took the game over.”

How do you commit only six turnovers and still lose by 10? Shoot 38 percent against a beastly defense and lose your two best players to foul trouble for significant parts of the game.

A reporter sticks his head in the visitor’s locker room and asks Mickeal Pietrus for Marcin Gortat. Pietrus tells the man that Gortat is taking a shower. Jason Williams responds, loudly, something to the effect of: “say he’s WASHING HIS D*CK!” Everyone laughs. It’s funny because that’s what you do when you take a shower.

There’s an actual buffet table set up in the visitor’s locker room. Only Williams appears to be partaking.

There’s a long amazing exchange with Dwight Howard that I’ll post on Monday if it came out nicely on my recorder. Really, it’s rather incredible. That Dwight Howard is a hilarious fellow.

Dwight, Anthony Johnson and Jameer have their own little comedy cipher going. If the Magic locker room were a “Do The Right Thing” remake, Dwight would be Sweet Dick Willie. After a while they’d wander over to Stan’s Famous and wonder why there were so many coaches on the wall.

We were talking about jazz (the music, not the team) on the train ride back, and the two things—jazz and Dwight Howard postgame—led me to coin the phrase “Thelonious Assclown.” For what it’s worth, I’m of the belief that you can put almost any word after “Thelonious” and it sounds amazing. Kind of like Thelonious…