It’s only been three days since the Knicks were eliminated from the NBA playoffs by Tyrese Halliburton and the hated Indiana Pacers for the second consecutive season, but I’m already having a difficult time staying too angry about it. Sure, it was difficult to watch the Knicks, who made it deeper into the postseason than they have this century, lay an egg in game six in Indianapolis, with their stars Jalen Brunson and (especially) Karl-Anthony Towns turning in their worst games of the postseason. (I caught myself thinking, “Man, I hope Timothée makes it out of there in one piece.”) To get as close as the Knicks made it, only to fall short, will always sting.

But then again, I remember the age of Michael Doleac and Bruno Sundov and the horrors of the Isiah Thomas era too vividly to h

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