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#1
All is quiet in Knicks land. Finally, no chirping or squawking or complaining or 'must win' yapping, albeit there is a smattering of headband tugging by JR Smith.
The quietness, the dead silence, reminds me of the fields of Nambia.
A wildebeest slowly traipses around a patch of grass in the 95 degree sun. The clay ground splits beneath each hoof. Thirst is overtaking it. It knows the almost dry riverbed offers everything it needs to follow the herd to its next destination. But temptation will not overcome it. The river is full of crocs, ever patient for the one fatal drink that will send the beast to the great beyond.
Hours pass. The cool night moon cannot come soon enough. The hours now seem like days, weeks even. Death lurks for the beast that traverses the open plain without a drink.
There is only one choice. Slowly the wildbeest saunters achingly to the riverbed. If only its tongue could touch liquid, it would be enough. Crack, crack crack. The ground shifts and a reflection states back. Make this quick and live. A tongue touches the water. Life giving water quenches the beast's thirst. But the beast cannot stop. The body's urges now overtakes the mind's reluctance and the beast continues to take its fill. Just a bit more and it won't need water for days. Almost finished. Life preserved...and then...
WHAM!
The freshwater croc, waiting 16 hours by the riverbed side claims its prey. Screams of pain give way to silence. The only sound now is the wind whistling through the same grass patch abandoned for that drink of certain death.
Tonight we play the saltwater croc. The books? Poor wildebeests waiting to be taken alive.
I don't even have a line as I start to write this.
I know it will be high. High enough for a rock solid play. And when you abandon the good teams for the bad and ugly ones, you sure as he ll better have a line that is sky high. We'll get one here.
The play is the Knicks plus the points over the Heat.
Here are my reasons.
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