After all these years, I still read Knicks' news everyday.
There I said it. I'm outta the closet. And I'm so embarrassed. I definitely need a support group's help. "Hi, I'm Nathan, and I'm a Knickaholic."
The roots of this addiction were planted in New Jersey, where I grew up cheering passionately for two teams: the Knicks and the NY Giants. If there were other teams in the universe, I was not aware of them.
When I was in my twenties I used to sit in the $5 nosebleed seats at the Garden, drink the piss-warm beer from vendors, and act like every other normal idiotic fan who has no real life.
When I was made Knicks beat writer for The Newark Star-Ledger in my early thirties, I quit rooting for the team cold turkey. You can't root and write about a team. Or at least I couldn't.
I have no idea how I broke my rooting addiction. Maybe it had something to do with having locker room access and traveling all over America with the team. I learned in that period that while many Knicks were smart, wonderful people, a lot of others were arrogant, abrasive jerks. It also didn't help that for six months I had to look up to talk to people who were anywhere from three inches to a foot taller than me (I'm 6'0). I swear I felt short for the whole season.
Bearing in mind that I used to watch the team from the nosebleed seats, my first day of Knicks practice was a huge shock to my nervous system. I mean, gee, I was on the same court as the players AND interviewing them! Holy cow! My virgin practice session was held in the gym at Manhattan's Pace College. I remember trying to pretend like I really belonged there, like Bob McAdoo and I had been buddies for years. Yo, Bob!
But the biggest shock came after all the interviews that day were done and the other NY writers had left. There I was, alone on the court interviewing (gulp) Knicks' coach Willis Reed, the legendary champion and future HOF. When the interview was done, Willis said: "You want to shoot a game of H-O-R-S-E?
I swear I nearly peed my pants when he said that. I mean, I used to need binoculars to see Reed's face from the nosebleed seats. And NOW I'M SHOOTING H-O-R-S-E WITH HIM?
(Lin's coming, don't be impatient)
Thus began nine crazy years of sitting court side at games, going on the road with the team, sitting on team buses, flying on Knicks charter airplanes, and staying at the same hotel they did. My life was deadlines, airports, buses, arenas, and first class hotels that eventually all came to look like one big dreaded Hotel Room.
Oh the stories I could tell of those days. I hung out with Hubie Brown's assistant coaches Rick Pitino, Mike Fratello, and many others. Some of the assistants--without naming names--were borderline crazy. If I told you about some of my after hour exploits on the road with assistant coaches they'd all put a contract hit out on me.
Long story short, after nine years of this I was burnt out. And while I still covered many Knicks games at the Garden for 10 more years, I branched out into covering the Yanks, Mets, Nets, NCAA tournament, World Series, NBA playoffs, and local college hoops teams like Princeton.
In 1997 I couldn't stomach sportswriting anymore, quit the paper, took up hanging in coffee bars writing movies and plays, and taking acting lessons. Nathan the Bohemian. And Nathan the Bartender, who served beer and booze from smoky pits crammed with yuppies who were raving drunks stoked on weird stuff like Jaggermeister, Buttery Nipples, and Kamikazies, .
And this is true:
I did not read a sports section, watch a single game on TV, or care about sports until 2007. Ten long years of bliss. No rooting, no agony of gut-wrenching defeats, no nothing. But that year I started watching the NY Giants. And, yup, I was rooting like a fan again. I had exorcised most of the sportswriter shtick from my brain. That being said, I still watch games in schizoid mode: cheer as a fan, analyze as a writer.
While I did root for the Giants, I still shied away from watching or reading about the Knicks. They were dead to me.
Until 2011, when I started taking a peek at a Knick game every so often. Like an alcoholic who says, "I'm just gonna drink a few and then stop." LOL.
Watching the Knicks in "moderation" radically changed when one person came into my sports world. Some kid from Harvard. Harvard? Are you kidding? Harvard guys score points on Wall Street. Become Presidents. They don't play in the NBA.
I knew nothing about Lin until February 4, when my friend who had watched Lin play with the Warriors, said to me as Lin was called into a game against the Nets, "Watch this kid, he's good."
And oh boy was he good! And FUN to watch!
After that, I traded my old Knicks addiction for Lin Addiction. When he played for the Knicks, I found I could finally go all-in for them again.
My love affair with the Knicks, however, was brief. That summer when Knicks maniac owner James Dolan let Lin go to Houston, Nathan the Lin Nomad was born.
The Rockets were my new team. OK. Got it. Learn about players. Get outraged when McHale benched Lin for Pat who? Scream at Harden to pass the damn ball to Lin when he's standing all alone in the corner. It was two years in Harden-McHale Hell.
Then came the trade to LA. New players to learn about, right? Wrong. I took one look at the coach and the team and said, "I ain't gonna root for this group of misfits, certainly not for Kobe, who was just another Hog version of Melo and Harden.
In LA I began rooting for a one man team named Lin.
Today, me and all of you other Lin Nomads find ourselves with yet another franchise to learn about. Sigh.
And so I find myself rooting like hell for Lin, and I, uh, hmm, well, yeah, I sorta keep up with the Knicks.
Being a fan sucks.