This Is The End

I'll lean on the work of famed singer, Hall of Fame boozer and faux poet James Douglas Morrison to convey my feelings on the imminent departure of Isiah Thomas as Head Coach/General Manager of my New York Knickerbockers:

This is the end

Beautiful friend

This is the end

My only friend, the end

Of our elaborate plans, the end

Of everything that stands, the end

No safety or surprise, the end

I'll never look into your eyes...again

The Isiah Era has been a particularly painful one for all Knicks fans. I was moved enough to buy a partial season ticket plan for the team last year solely because I wanted to heckle him. Unfortunately, the team showed enough of a pulse to keep naysayers like me at bay until the last quarter of the season. This season unfolded with a glimmer of hope, although the presence of Zach Randolph is a minor glimmer at best. Despite his bad reputation and his apparent lack of a neck, many (like me) thought the team would compete in the mediocre Eastern Conference. Alas, it was not meant to be, leaving fans to ponder the state of this pathetic franchise.

Can you picture what will be

So limitless and free

Desperately in need...of some...stranger's hand

In a...desperate land

Donnie Walsh has now entered the picture. Cablevision brass has portrayed him as a white knight who will bring character back to this franchise. But one look at him makes you realize that this knight looks like he's ready for an electric wheelchair, not a gallant steed. The best we can hope for from him is sensibility. We would define this sensibility as shedding salary, shedding deadbeats, drafting wisely and picking a logical head coach. It doesn't take much more than that to get your team to 40 wins and a sniff at the playoffs. With a potential Top 6 pick in this year's draft, the team might have a drastically new identity in six months. That's about all we can hope for these days.

So Isiah, as you leave MSG with all that guaranteed cash in your pockets and that shit-eating grin on your face, remember that this entire city hates you and the fuckhead owner who put you in charge of anything.

It hurts to set you free

But you'll never follow me

The end of laughter and soft lies

The end of nights we tried to die

This is the end