Mariano Rivera, the pitcher nonpareil, chatted with Mike Francesa on Wednesday afternoon, looking as spry and sounding as pious as ever. And so it’s time to tip a final cap.
On Thursday night the Rangers made us party like it’s 1994. And if you were alive and lucid in New York City back then, you recall the magic murmuring up the streets, from Herald Square to Harlem.
If Donald Sterling will indeed be swept under the rug of memory, his Jim Crow ideology and Bull Connor comments along with him, then … what have we learned from Donald Sterling?
If we may make the small assumption that the Miami Heat will bag their third consecutive title next month, it will infuse a few watts to the charged debate about LeBron James’s place in NBA history.
The Yankees (26-23) are 8-2 when Tanaka starts, for an .800 winning percentage. They are a woeful 18-21 (.461 winning percentage) when the rest of the rotation pitches.
A conga line of football icons is suing the NFL for negligence, malfeasance, malpractice, and just about everything short of global warming.
Harvey sparkles on the diamond — where he belongs — but not in the media, the front row or the operating table.
The most notable nose in sports gets a reprieve. So now California Chrome visits the Big Apple, bandaged nostrils and all, to grace or tease us with eternity.
Michael Sam’s magic moment has left America divided, making the masses uncomfortable for many reasons, though much of it has nothing to do with Michael Sam.
This strikes a blow to everyone in the organization, from Jackson to Jim Dolan to Carmelo Anthony, who must be appalled by the notion that the most visible non-player in the NBA can’t even get his own acolyte to coach for him.
It’s fitting that both teams are 19-19, mediocre records for a sterile series.
Still want to talk Knicks? Phil Jackson and Steve Kerr? There’s a far better story going on in Brooklyn, one that you really should start paying attention to.
All eyes and iPhones were on Johnny Manziel, who squirmed in his seat for 21 picks before landing in the wasteland we call Cleveland. He forced a smile and his signature salutation, rubbing his thumb and forefinger, a metaphor for counting his cash.
Torre came to New York with a stained resume and left as royalty, a retread-turned-Hall of Famer whose legacy was just cemented in the place that produces our baseball heroes.
No coach is better qualified, in attitude and aptitude, than Mark Jackson is to the Knicks. It’s a shame that Steve Kerr is currently Phil Jackson’s pet.