It was an easy week for the Knicks as they coasted to double-digit wins over the Timberwolves, Jazz, Cavs and Sixers (combined record: 92-161). The four straight wins brought the Knicks' record to 25-40 and, thanks to the ongoing collapse of the Atlanta Hawks, left them just 3.5 games out of the eighth and final playoff spot in the historically bad Eastern Conference with 17 to play. Of course, the happenings on the court were less than half the story. As it always is at Madison Square Garden.
In an ironic twist, just as coach Mike Woodson finally decided it was time to say "f*ck it" and start messing with the starting lineup (starting Amar'e Stoudemire along with Melo, starting JR Smith and bringing Iman Shumpert off the bench) and the players started hooping like they had nothing to lose, all hell broke loose in the front office.
The Knicks have begged Phil Jackson, winner of eleven championships as a coach and a bench player/photographer for the now-forty-years-ago Knick championship teams of the early-70s, to join them at least twice before, most notably during the '98-99 season as they planned to fire Jeff Van Gundy as soon as the lockout-shortened season ended. That was until they went to the Finals and saved Van Gundy's job with the fans literally chanting "Jeff Van Gundy" as they went on their playoff run.
This time, the Knicks are courting Jackson to take some kind of role in the front office. It isn't clear what that role would be exactly, and it isn't clear whether an agreement has been reached (the Post is reporting that there is a deal in principle and that PJ will "oversee" basketball operations and "president will be in his title" while the Daily News says that nothing is settled but Bill Bradley (former senator alert!) is brokering a $15-plus million a year deal with a minority ownership stake a possibility and Jackson's exact role unclear).
Jackson might serve as a consultant, something he did for the Pistons last summer (the result: they hired Mo Cheeks who was fired last month and built a roster that already needs to be rebuilt). He also might be given the keys to the franchise and be left to run the team a la Pat Riley in Miami, even though he might not be willing to move to New York to be close enough to the team to have a sense of what's going on in the locker room.
Knowledgeable observers are of mixed minds: some think James Dolan's relationship with Jackson is bound to end as badly as it did with Grunwald, Walsh and Thomas. Others think it's just another example of the Knicks refusing to do the simple thing and take a measured, responsible approach. Others think Big Chief Triangle is a winner and commands respect, two things the Knicks haven't had in a hell of a long time.
Near-septuagenarians aren't known for learning new tricks; regardless of one's opinion, there's no arguing that it's a serious red flag that Jackson is a 68-year-old who has never been responsible for making personnel decisions at any level of the game, at least not in a formal way. By way of comparison, Red Auerbach, the legendary architect of the Celtics, was 69 when the Celtics won their last championship under his management. Of course, he had been running the team for decades before that and they had won fifteen championships under his management before then. Pat Riley, the same age as Jackson, has been running the Heat since 1995, when he was not even fifty.
Over the years James Dolan, 58 years old himself, has proven to be unreasonable, impatient, insolent, uncaring and unsuccessful. He doesn't allow anyone in the front office to talk to the media, driving fans and journalists into a maniacal froth. He ran Patrick Ewing out of town and keeps him there, gave the run of the place to Isiah Thomas, drove up the asking price for Carmelo Anthony, fired the general manager who built the roster that he himself declared was good enough to win a championship, put a business person in charge of the team and seems to be grooming Allan Houston to be the general manager of the future in what has always felt like an insult to fans who remember that he also gave Houston one of the worst contracts in team history.
Dolan has done all that while granting nothing but the occasional heavily scripted interview to the media and hiding in plain sight opening up for the Eagles and sitting on the baseline surrounded by his harem of young, tall, beautiful women. Oh, and his posture sucks.
With all the Reds long since passed, Phil Jackson is the closest thing the NBA has to a sage. He's a nearly seven-foot tall, limping Yoda, wearing a suit and a soul patch instead of a robe and a cane. Forget about whether he knows how to build a team. He's a test, a public evaluation of whether there is anyone, anywhere, to whom James Dolan will kowtow (other than Isiah Thomas). Jackson's been pushed aside by difficult managers before (Jerry Reinsdorf and Jerry Krause eventually replaced him with Tim Floyd in Chicago; Jim Buss pushed him out the door in Los Angeles despite Jackson being engaged to his sister). That's the thing about owners: they can do what they want and they usually do.
But at least if James Dolan runs Phil Jackson out of town for some unexplained affront we'll know that there's nothing left to do but hope we outlive the current owner of the New York Knicks. Don't be sad. Some of us are certain to.
You can follow Jonathan Fishner on Twitter @therealkingfish, and check out his blog The Real King Fish.
