Keidel: Melo Is A Gifted Player, But With A Singular Obsession With Himself
By Jason Keidel
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You can exhale now. Carmelo Anthony isn't worried.
In an article splashed across this virtual wall on Tuesday, Melo shared his existential side, assuring us that the Knicks' horrific start to the season, which got worse after a home loss to the pedestrian Nets, wasn't cause for panic.
The Knicks are now 4-15 on the season, including their current 2-14 tear. The only reason we aren't putting historical hues on their record is because the Philadelphia 76ers are taking every avenue toward contraction.
It's easy, if not redundant, to blast Melo, who has always been about the money and myopia of individual stats. Not since Syracuse has he violated the personal space of a championship trophy. We hold every star's feet to the championship fire and ire of his fans if he doesn't win a title. Except with Melo.
We question Kevin Durant, Chris Paul, Blake Griffin, John Wall, and other big dots in the NBA galaxy when they falter in the playoffs. Heck, we killed Kobe Bryant for gutting the Lakers' cap number this season, despite his Liberace set of rings. And yes, we still aren't satisfied with LeBron's bio after four straight trips to the NBA Finals.
Yet Melo can't even lead his club to the first round and we give him an eternal pass. He doesn't have commensurate talent around him, and surely no Robin to his Batman. It's a tired treatise, a buffet of excuses for someone who has made it publicly and privately clear that winning is not his brand of sustenance.
Even if you disagree with the premise that Carmelo Anthony is the classic gunner, allergic to assists, to whom winning is incidental as long as he gets his cash, cars, and points, you can't argue with results. Or the fact that he was offered substantial money from better teams but took the extra quid to remain with a team in eternal rebuild. At some point you are what are, and after 11 years Anthony is a gifted player with a singular obsession with himself.
A bona fide baller can at least carry his team to the playoffs, particularly in the largely elastic -- if not emaciated -- Eastern Conference. And the other stark, dark reality is that he's already given you his prime years. So as he descends down the wrong side of 30, he, like the Knicks, will not get better.
But this season is a dual referendum on not only the Knicks, but also their fans. When the Giants, Yanks, Mets, and Nets stink, we brand them accordingly. Jets fans tend to be a little less objective, but no awful team in our town is supported more than the Knicks, who have carte blanche to blow any game, any year, any time. And you almost never hear a Knicks fan take them to task.
Knicks devotees have a Fan Guy love affair with Melo. It's never his fault, and it never will be. Despite his colossal contract, A-list talent, and high expectations, the annual, April postmortems don't rub Knicks fans the wrong way. It's an inexplicable loyalty to someone who hasn't earned it. At least Patrick Ewing gave you every bead of blood and two trips to the Finals. These Knicks just give you losses and excuses and incompetence.
And on Thursday the Knicks welcome the white-hot Cavs, led by LeBron, hungry for payback after the Knicks ruined his homecoming -- New York's lone, glowing moment in an otherwise galling season. Led by No. 7, who hasn't been No. 1 since he entered the NBA. Not that his fans are counting.
Follow Jason on Twitter at @JasonKeidel
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