Tonight, on a broker's dime, I saw Reggie Miller's last game at Madison Square Garden from box seats. Nothing could have been more anticlimactic. Reggie scored some 13 points or so, but the fact that the Knicks are the worst team in the worst division in basketball kept an undercurrent of nausea running through what I had hoped to be a memorable experience. I quickly got drunk, but it couldn't mask the sadness of what has become of this team. The Pacers, without Jermaine O'Neal (or Ron Artest, of course) EASILY handled Isaiah Thomas's ragtag crew. By the end, I was praying to see Joanna Newsom off the bench.
Ugh. This doesn't help me stomach the Illinois loss. If another person says "live by the three, die by the three," I will cut off my own head, set it on fire, and throw it through their living room picture window.
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