The Strickland

2 weeks ago | thestrick.land | Matthew Miranda

The crowds in Milwaukee and Cleveland both chanted “Overrated!” at Haliburton and they’re both at home now, doing whatever it is swing state voters do in non-election years. I’d advise MSG’s faithful not to follow suit, but the type of fans who can afford to attend the conference finals didn’t get born on third base by caring what anybody thinks.

3 weeks ago | thestrick.land | Collin Loring

Rome wasn’t built in a day. Neither was the New York Knicks’ first conference finals team in 25 years, but after a 119-81 Celtics shellacking to win their semifinal series 4-2, that’s where they find themselves.  Jalen Brunson, Mikal Bridges, Josh Hart, OG Anunoby, and Karl-Anthony Towns are the headliners. Miles McBride and Mitchell Robinson, New York’s two-man bench combo, represent the greatest success of the old regime and arguably the greatest of the current.

3 weeks ago | thestrick.land | Matthew Miranda

We all knew the songs. The notes weren’t difficult or anything. But when we started playing, it wasn’t perfect. It was nowhere near perfect. And when I played, that was always the objective. Why do something if you aren’t doing it as well as you can? I’d played with orchestras, soloists, singers, entire choruses. With each, we seemed on the same page from the beginning.

3 weeks ago | thestrick.land | Matthew Miranda

For most of the decisive fourth quarter, Mitch and McBride, the two longest-tenured Knicks, were in the middle of the deciding. They didn’t do much offensively, just an alley-oop Robinson converted off a Towns’ drive and Deuce missed a three. But the only number that ultimately matters is the scoreboard, and Mitch and Miles were +7 and +6 in the period that sealed the deal. All series the Celtics have attacked Towns and Brunson as their go-to offense.

1 month ago | thestrick.land | Collin Loring

They say you don’t know the good old days until they’re gone. As a New York Knicks fan who just watched them pull off a come-from-behind overtime road win against the Boston Celtics in Game 1, I call bullshit. These are the best days. A back-and-forth feeler of a first quarter gave us hope. Boston’s counterpunch (and knockout blow, at first glance) of a second quarter washed it all away. At halftime the scoreboard read 61-45, bad guys, and I toyed with turning off my television.