The Knickmare before Christmas


The Score


By JIM RICH
DAILY NEWS SPORTS EDITOR

Larry Brown
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Manhattan,

Not an ex-Knick was stirring, not even Ro Blackman.

The Garden banners were hung by Isiah with care,

In hopes that the Knicks would soon win their share.

James Dolan was nestled all snug in his bed,

While visions of championships danced in his head.

And Larry Brown in turmoil with the Knicks salary cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out on the hardwood arose such a clatter,

Larry arose from the bench to see what was the matter.

Away to the foul line he flew like a flash,

Tore open his playbook and looked for Steve Nash.

The 24-second clock on the new-painted floor,

Gave the luster of win streaks and perhaps even more.

When, what to Brown's wondering eyes should appear,

But a disgruntled point guard and Nate's tiny Knick gear

With Antonio Davis, no longer lively and quick,

Larry knew in a moment it must be a trick.

More rapid than eagles the players they came,

And Larry whistled and shouted, and called them by name.

"Now, Quentin! Now, Crawford! Now, Qyntel and Taylor.

On Curry! On Penny! This team is a failure!

To the top of the key! Keep moving the ball!

Where is my point guard, the best of them all?"

As moments before the wild shots fly,

The players drive to the basket and rise to the sky.

So up toward the backboard the players they flew,

With a sleigh full of bricks and air balls, them too.

And then, in a twinkling, Larry heard on the roof,

A prancing and dancing and rhyming so smooth.

As Larry withdrew his hand and was starting to frown,

Down from the banners Clyde Frazier came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from head to mistletoe,

And his face had sideburns, tucked beneath a huge fro,

A bundle of balls he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a point guard as he opened his pack.

His eyes - how they twinkled! His passes, they varied!

His jumpshots like roses, his dribbling was merry!

His droll little mouth, it shouted out plays,

And the players, all dumbstruck, began changing their ways.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook when he shot like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubbier and plumper than his jolly old self,

And Larry laughed when he saw him, in spite of himself.

A wink of Clyde's eye and a twist of his head,

Soon let Larry know he had nothing to dread.

Clyde spoke not a word, but went straight to work,

And the Knicks started to win, they no longer were jerks.

But Stephon Marbury was sulking, standing under the rim,

Clyde playfully giggled, and pointed at him.

Then he sprang to the foul line, to the team gave a whistle,

Then fired one last pass that sailed like a missile.

But the coach heard him exclaim as he fled from the scene,

'Wake up, Larry Brown, it's only a dream.'