Curse You, Ming!
“The best laid plans of mice and men…” I think Shakespeare said that, maybe somebody else, the ellipsis hiding the fact that I don’t remember the rest of it and am too lazy to look it up. Well, whoever said it, they must have known that, a thousand years beyond them, I would be sitting in Madison Square Garden watching the Houston Rockets choke away a game to the New York Knickerbockers.
This was not what I had signed up for, back when I had signed up for the game under the auspices of the Brooklyn Kickball group-ticket buy-in. I wanted to see a nice, comfortable victory, through which I could radiate a smug sense of superiority and eat a corn dog, maybe some Cracker Jacks. Instead, I got no Yao Ming and a team that folded on the doorstep of victory like a cheap deck chair.
The Rockets Could Have Used Ming’s Interior Presence.