So the other day I was strolling around the 'hood (Smith St. Collingwood, East Melbourne - recognize, bitch) and decided I'd take the bait and try the new gourmet chocolate joint on Smith St. that had been enticing me with a 'Fresh Croissants' sign out the front these past couple of weeks. It was a beautiful almost-summer day, and I was wearing one of my favourite T-Shirts - a retro 'New York Knicks 1970 World Champions' joint.
As I walked in the place, some random dude zinged me, looking at my T-Shirt and saying, "Isn't that the last time they won the championship?" to which I said nothing, and kind of grunted truculently (I realised about 12 seconds later that I should have said, "No, they won it again in '73, dick").
I then proceeded to the counter where I ordered my croissant, and the attendant looked at my T-Shirt and said, "You know, all you guys really need to get back on track is someone like Anthony Mason. That guy was a fucking beast."
And you know what? He was absolutely right. Unfortunately, we'll have to make do with Danilo fucking Gallinari, who is the most un-Anthony Mason-like player since, well, this guy....
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