Good News

Am I upset the White Sox lost—again—or that Luis Robert Jr. went 0-for-5 with three more strikeouts? No. Why? Because I’ve taken to heart what Chicago rock band Friko sings: Get Numb to it. Yes, the Sox lost to the Orioles 4-2 yesterday and New-Mickey Venable talked about grinding and getting better. Whatever. But I’m downright giddy, nonetheless. The mighty Knicks crashed and burned last night in Indianapolis. Too bad. No game seven for the Eastern Conference Finals from “The Garden” with the New York glitterati assembled courtside. No Spike Lee. No Timothee Chalamet. No Tom Thibodeau with the perpetual whiny scowl on his face. Nope, the Pacers took care of business at home, handing the world’s greatest NBA franchise a trip home with a 125-108 beatdown, in Flyoverville, no less. How humiliating, sort of like those eighteen Knicks’ turnovers the Pacers turned into 34 points. Ouch. That’s not the Knicks Way. No sirree. So, instead of advancing to the NBA Finals for the first time since 1999, the team that stirs the drink that is the NBA goes home for the summer amidst grumbling that Thibodeau played his starters too long. Oh, my. Bye-bye.