![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5RjPqmlEnhFtgM7DW5WzkGIxJIsn53lffHHTzeNfQUQSywenEgrqOWrXLnDrKGDP5ljowLyEEYns3_IkBowDokPIcOkm-BD23JE_hGWP7K1Id6gXYjF9HvS1SxrYQ_10Uf0rQ3Q/s200/Hindenburg.jpg)
Last night I took in a professional basketball contest between the Boston Celtics and the New York Knickerbockers. I have gained some allegiances since moving up here from New York, and while I like the Celts the Knicks are still my team. Which really is too bad.
I remember the Knicks from high school, and names like Ewing, Starks, Anthony Mason, Smith and many more. Hell I even remember the white guy. There were no names asides from Marbury and Curry that I recognized last night. Which is fine, because I was too busy yelling
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6-LKyiBeBOVFKLfoM-52dFwcah0vrd-YUBl8EGGrQq3I0xwKppW0YyFgjf_LFASkqjjShAdGDLwD3nDrAPsYoqLgoaq-FSRfkl2cHsQ4tElZOrUf9_uSv5XTpem2boXJ3VFoVuw/s200/titanic5.jpg)
I left with three minutes left to go in the 4th quarter.
There are only 4 quarters in the NBA.
I spent most of the game booing Isiah Thomas, the worthless racist, sexist coach of the Knicks.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1x-2XJTqCMjdWvGnhvanfLvi7Ks8pLUe9dRK9NfgADR7XhYEWcHeX6rAsgqghz0NyOf9T1dYX4bQN9v6FUr_bh3h9t_0oYaWQSf4FJFxhNJh9TWQv0mne8rw1byy9FJYuWC4z7g/s200/new-coke-1.jpg)
Fire Isiah. Now more than ever.
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