Thursday, April 9th, 2009 at 12:42 pm  |  33 responses

Tweet

Game Notes: Pistons at Knicks

Fast and in no way furious.

By Russ Bengtson

If you were to strip my notes from last night down to pure numbers, they would look something like this:

10-0

23-7

30-9

37-20

52-24

61-31

And so on. That would be the Pistons on the left and the Knicks on the right. Things started out bad and got worse. I wouldn’t go so far as to accuse the already-eliminated Knicks of quitting—although others would—but if you went to the game last night looking for some sort of positive to take with you into the Summer of The One Before 2010, you would have had to look really, really hard. Yes, Wilson Chandler did shoot 5-7 from three, but seeing that the entire game was garbage time, it didn’t mean much.

The only significant number from last night was 2:00—the game was over in exactly two hours. This is almost unheard of. But it was appreciated. So thank you, Michael Smith, David Guthrie and (shockingly) Joey Crawford, for making things easier on all of us.

PREGAME

The Pistons locker room is taking forever to open, and as we wait, Joey Crawford walks rapidly past us, down the hall. “Bunch of fine people out here,” I believe he says. Or maybe it was “Bunch of people need to be fined.” With Joey, you never know. Seeing Joey makes me thing of two things: Number 1, Rip Hamilton has had a long and distinguished history of getting thrown out of games at the Garden. And number 2, with Joey officiating a game involving Rip, Rasheed Wallace, and Nate Robinson, this could get ugly.

Rasheed, wearing the same inelegantly hacked cargo sweatpant capris that he was last time, is smearing what appears to be barbecue sauce on a grilled chicken sandwich. Rip emerges from the bathroom, and the topic of discussion immediately becomes technical fouls. Rip gleefully blames Sheed for his troubles with the refs, and Sheed laughingly (and loudly) puts it back on him. Rip eventually accepts the blame for his own misdeeds before turning to a beatwriter and asks how many technicals he has this season. “What do I have, eight? Nine? I’m good.” Not that Joey Crawford couldn’t give him six or seven in a night if he wanted to. Sheed laces up his Carolina blue Air Force Is and stalks into the back, still talking.

Aside: I was looking up stuff on the Internets on draft classes the other night, and was startled to discover that there’s only one guy left from the ’92 and ’93 Drafts (Shaq and Lindsey Hunter), four from ’94 (Donyell Marshall is still playing, right?) and eight from 1995. Two of the latter—Sheed and Antonio McDyess—are Pistons. (The others are Joe Smith, Jerry Stackhouse, Kevin Garnett, Kurt Thomas, Michael Finley, and Theo Ratliff.) Looking at past drafts is a good way to feel old, or to get ammunition to make others feel old: “Rasheed,” I should have asked, “do you ever think about the fact that your draft class included Ed O’Bannon and Cherokee Parks?”

FIRST QUARTER

By the time I even settle in, we’re 2:30 in, the Knicks are down 10-0, and they’re calling time out. What for? You can’t trade your entire team in April. I suppose you could shoot them, but that would possibly make the franchise less attractive to free agents.

Antonio McDyess is active early, which would probably infuriate the Knicks if anyone were still around from his time here. Oh yeah, Jim Dolan.

Larry Hughes and backcourt dynamo Nate Robinson join the fray with 5:18 to go in the quarter, and with 5:00 to go the Pistons lead 23-7.

With 3:23 to go in the first, Antonio McDyess has nine rebounds. He hasn’t been so efficient since his ABA days.

Rasheed hits a three to push the Pistons lead to 30-9. There are some boos, but not many. I crane my neck to see whether Isiah’s standing in the tunnel before remembering he’s probably on a scouting trip in North Korea.

SECOND QUARTER

Kwame Brown, Will Bynum and Jason Maxiell replace Sheed, Dice and Tayshaun Prince. Garbage time!

Jason Maxiell establishes position inside and dunks the hell out of the ball a couple of times just to show it who’s boss.

Bynum pushes the lead to 52-24. There was some unofficial discussion before the game whether Bynum could unseat Mike Taylor for the “guy you wouldn’t expect to go off who does” scoring record this year. The general consensus is that Joey Crawford’s gonna eject somebody.

Somehow Nate Robinson and Will Bynum get tangled and there’s a jump ball. Apparently Rasheed is overjoyed by this and tries to get some action up on the Pistons bench.

With 5:51 to go in the half, Nate fouls someone and the Knicks call time. My professional analysis is that this game sucks.

The Pistons are actually extending the lead with Kwame Brown on the floor. He even shows a few bursts of what appear to be offensive competence.

Wilson Chandler hits a driving layup to, uh, cut the lead to 24. As if to underline the meaninglessness of it all, Mike D’Antoni inserts D-League MVP Courtney Sims for his first action of the year.

Tayshaun Prince politely extends the lead to 30.

It’s 63-39 at the half, and all involved seem resigned to their fate. Joey should eject everyone.

THIRD QUARTER

McDyess finally gets his double-double with a bucket at the 8:25 mark. 11 points and 14 rebounds. Every Detroit starter is in double digits. I seem to recall reading somewhere that D’Antoni said they’d play hard these last few games to be fair to Larry Brown and the Charlotte Bobcats, who are chasing Detroit and Chicago for the final playoff spot. Clearly he was joking.

It’s 91-63 at the end of the third, and Joey hasn’t even T’ed anyone up yet. Pathetic.

FOURTH QUARTER

Joe Crawford checks in for the Knicks at the 10:50 mark, which causes some of the cataclysmically bored media members on the baseline to ask Joey Crawford whether they’re related. (More on that here.) Apparently Joe Forte once reffed a game involving Joe Forte, but this just seems better somehow. Still, Joey declines to eject his namesake, even when he airballs not one, but TWO open three-pointers.

Kim Kardashian and Chazz Palminteri are in the house. Not together.

Al Harrington is still firing up threes, and it strikes me that he must love this, on some level. Game long since decided, coach who disdains defense and encourages quick shots, the three-point line always beckoning flirtatiously. Whoops, that’s just Kim Kardashian.

A whole section of front-row types clear out midway through the fourth quarter, and I half-expect Kim to sprawl out over all of them and film a reality series.

Final score is 113-86. Game is over at 9:40, which is remarkable.

POSTGAME

Waiting outside the Pistons locker room when Joey Crawford walks by in a hurry. Déjà vu? I look at my watch, and it’s 9:50. I believe we have a new Garden record for fastest shower, and Joey must have a train to catch.

Rip Hamilton is exultant—not over the win, mind you, just over the fact that he didn’t get ejected. “Just trying to walk off the court on my own without security,” he says. “I saved my money tonight, didn’t get no technicals.”

For those of you who keep track of this sort of thing, Rip forgoes the usual Vuitton or Gucci toiletries bag for a complimentary one from the 2007 All-Star Game.

I don’t set foot in the Knicks locker room. It’s probably for the best.