wes
05-24-2005, 11:35 AM
Sports of The Times
When Ewing Left the Knicks, Divided They Fell
By HARVEY ARATON
New York Times
IN the month marking the 20th anniversary of the Knicks' winning what was
billed as the Patrick Ewing Lottery, I wonder if the feuding Dolan strongmen
of Madison Square Garden felt like reaching for the Pepto-Bismol when they
heard about or saw last week's love-in celebrating the end of Reggie
Miller's 18 years as the Indiana Pacers' franchise player.
Watching Reggie bask in his home court of one-sided public opinion, I
wondered if the Dolans or Ewing wished they could turn back the clock and
call a do-over on the trade demand he made in the summer of 2000. That
fateful decision sent Ewing away to stumble around in Seattle and Orlando
for two unsightly seasons while the Knicks repositioned themselves into the
financial straitjacket they still wear.
It is never easy fitting organizational fidelity into a smart business plan,
but while the Knicks accomplished neither, the Pacers managed to construct,
deconstruct and reconstruct their team as Miller remained into his twilight,
to lead one last Indiana charge into the playoffs, though it ended like all
the others, in defeat, this time against the defending champion Pistons at
Conseco Fieldhouse.
Not to suggest that the pursuit of the ring wasn't always the thing, but the
reverence for Miller that was shown last week by fans and foes alike was a
wonderful reminder that there are more important measures of a basketball
life than a gaudy piece of jewelry and a few extra bucks squeezed out of a
diminished athletic body.
"I think his retirement is definitive because Reggie has thought it through
and realizes that post-playing opportunities will be the result of his
legacy, of playing 18 straight years for one team," Julius Erving said
yesterday in a telephone interview. "There will be value to that, as opposed
to him chasing the ring. If you get wrapped up in chasing it, you could
potentially detract from the legacy you prefer to leave."
Business or pleasure, Miller proved he could have it both ways, championship
ring be damned.
Whatever the reasons Ewing departed New York, he did so in a vengeful snit,
and the decision by the Garden chairman, James Dolan, to sign off on the
deal was equally misguided, the self-immolating act of cutting off your
highest-paid player entering the final year of his contract to spite your
salary cap.
Instead of starting the rebuilding process by letting Ewing's huge contract
expire and negotiating downward with him if he wished to continue playing,
the way Miller did, instead of working their way toward eventual
maneuverability within the cap, the Knicks came to a fork in the road and
chose the path leading to mountains of more unjustifiable debt.
Five years later, administrators and coaches and players continue to chug
through the Garden like the Amtrak trains below it, with no realistic
timetable for stability, much less success. Ewing got the ovation he
deserved when he returned with Seattle months after the trade. His jersey
was retired in a tasteful ceremony a couple of years later. Statistically,
he is the most accomplished Knick in the history of the franchise, but part
of his legacy is also the adolescent decision to become an out-of-town scrub
and the trade that doomed the Knicks to mediocrity or worse, now five years
and running.
Dolan's record at the Garden helm is indefensible, but it can also be argued
that the Knicks would not be in this hole if Ewing had been capable of
greater introspection, of understanding that his days of max earning were
over and that it was time to plot a graceful end, as Miller did.
Superstars don't have to be the last to know when their time is almost up.
"For me, it happened pretty much the way it did for Reggie," said Erving,
who announced his intention to retire from the Philadelphia 76ers before his
last season, 1986-87. "We were in Cleveland, and I woke up in the middle of
the night, thinking, 'What am I doing here?' "
Erving couldn't answer the question, and near the end of his 15th
professional season, he decided to cap it after a sweet 16th. "I always
thought I would play 10 or 12 years and then move on to something else, so I
had the sense that I was already into bonus time," he said. "Statistically,
I was still very respectable, just like Reggie."
Erving mentioned the 24 points and 11 rebounds he had in his last playoff
game, a defeat in Milwaukee. He recalled the 16.8 points he averaged at the
age of 37 and, as he pointed out, "as a slasher and dunker, not a jump
shooter."
Near the end, Ewing was a plodding old center with aching knees and feet,
but he still could have been a Knick for life, if only he could have seen
past his pride.
Maybe these happy endings are easier to come by in heartland places like
Indianapolis, where Miller will be grand marshal in Saturday's 500 Festival
parade, or Salt Lake City, where John Stockton played 19 straight years and
Jerry Sloan seems to be the Jazz coach for life. Or maybe the way it has
turned out for the Knicks is more of a commentary on the owners of the
franchise and the former franchise player. Twenty years ago this month, the
Ewing Lottery was supposed to be the best day ever for the franchise. The
day five years ago that Ewing insisted on a trade and the Knicks mindlessly
obliged, may well be remembered as the worst.
When Ewing Left the Knicks, Divided They Fell
By HARVEY ARATON
New York Times
IN the month marking the 20th anniversary of the Knicks' winning what was
billed as the Patrick Ewing Lottery, I wonder if the feuding Dolan strongmen
of Madison Square Garden felt like reaching for the Pepto-Bismol when they
heard about or saw last week's love-in celebrating the end of Reggie
Miller's 18 years as the Indiana Pacers' franchise player.
Watching Reggie bask in his home court of one-sided public opinion, I
wondered if the Dolans or Ewing wished they could turn back the clock and
call a do-over on the trade demand he made in the summer of 2000. That
fateful decision sent Ewing away to stumble around in Seattle and Orlando
for two unsightly seasons while the Knicks repositioned themselves into the
financial straitjacket they still wear.
It is never easy fitting organizational fidelity into a smart business plan,
but while the Knicks accomplished neither, the Pacers managed to construct,
deconstruct and reconstruct their team as Miller remained into his twilight,
to lead one last Indiana charge into the playoffs, though it ended like all
the others, in defeat, this time against the defending champion Pistons at
Conseco Fieldhouse.
Not to suggest that the pursuit of the ring wasn't always the thing, but the
reverence for Miller that was shown last week by fans and foes alike was a
wonderful reminder that there are more important measures of a basketball
life than a gaudy piece of jewelry and a few extra bucks squeezed out of a
diminished athletic body.
"I think his retirement is definitive because Reggie has thought it through
and realizes that post-playing opportunities will be the result of his
legacy, of playing 18 straight years for one team," Julius Erving said
yesterday in a telephone interview. "There will be value to that, as opposed
to him chasing the ring. If you get wrapped up in chasing it, you could
potentially detract from the legacy you prefer to leave."
Business or pleasure, Miller proved he could have it both ways, championship
ring be damned.
Whatever the reasons Ewing departed New York, he did so in a vengeful snit,
and the decision by the Garden chairman, James Dolan, to sign off on the
deal was equally misguided, the self-immolating act of cutting off your
highest-paid player entering the final year of his contract to spite your
salary cap.
Instead of starting the rebuilding process by letting Ewing's huge contract
expire and negotiating downward with him if he wished to continue playing,
the way Miller did, instead of working their way toward eventual
maneuverability within the cap, the Knicks came to a fork in the road and
chose the path leading to mountains of more unjustifiable debt.
Five years later, administrators and coaches and players continue to chug
through the Garden like the Amtrak trains below it, with no realistic
timetable for stability, much less success. Ewing got the ovation he
deserved when he returned with Seattle months after the trade. His jersey
was retired in a tasteful ceremony a couple of years later. Statistically,
he is the most accomplished Knick in the history of the franchise, but part
of his legacy is also the adolescent decision to become an out-of-town scrub
and the trade that doomed the Knicks to mediocrity or worse, now five years
and running.
Dolan's record at the Garden helm is indefensible, but it can also be argued
that the Knicks would not be in this hole if Ewing had been capable of
greater introspection, of understanding that his days of max earning were
over and that it was time to plot a graceful end, as Miller did.
Superstars don't have to be the last to know when their time is almost up.
"For me, it happened pretty much the way it did for Reggie," said Erving,
who announced his intention to retire from the Philadelphia 76ers before his
last season, 1986-87. "We were in Cleveland, and I woke up in the middle of
the night, thinking, 'What am I doing here?' "
Erving couldn't answer the question, and near the end of his 15th
professional season, he decided to cap it after a sweet 16th. "I always
thought I would play 10 or 12 years and then move on to something else, so I
had the sense that I was already into bonus time," he said. "Statistically,
I was still very respectable, just like Reggie."
Erving mentioned the 24 points and 11 rebounds he had in his last playoff
game, a defeat in Milwaukee. He recalled the 16.8 points he averaged at the
age of 37 and, as he pointed out, "as a slasher and dunker, not a jump
shooter."
Near the end, Ewing was a plodding old center with aching knees and feet,
but he still could have been a Knick for life, if only he could have seen
past his pride.
Maybe these happy endings are easier to come by in heartland places like
Indianapolis, where Miller will be grand marshal in Saturday's 500 Festival
parade, or Salt Lake City, where John Stockton played 19 straight years and
Jerry Sloan seems to be the Jazz coach for life. Or maybe the way it has
turned out for the Knicks is more of a commentary on the owners of the
franchise and the former franchise player. Twenty years ago this month, the
Ewing Lottery was supposed to be the best day ever for the franchise. The
day five years ago that Ewing insisted on a trade and the Knicks mindlessly
obliged, may well be remembered as the worst.