And Out Come the Wolves
By Greg Evans
There has been a lot of talk since Game 3, going into tonight’s game at the Garden, of the lack of retaliation by the Knicks when Wemby knocked Brunson to the hardwood in arguably the worst act of sportsmanship in any sport in the past decade. In the old days, an enforcer would have been sent in to relay a message that that is unacceptable behavior, and next time you will be dealt with in pain.
My question is, why isn’t basketball more like hockey? There is something to the chatter. Wemby should have been warned. By the Knicks. A real warning, not some flakey slap on the wrist by officials who are making calls in your favor anyhow. Maybe he was, and we didn’t see it. Maybe somebody whispered into his barbarian ear that the next dirty play, he’ll find himself with a crooked nose.
In my, not so humble, opinion, I think there should be fighting allowed in the NBA, like there is in hockey. When the gloves are agreed to be dropped, the players have five seconds to beat the hell out of each other, and then they go and sit in the penalty box for five minutes. I think that would keep the game and the players much more honest. Wemby is allowed to play dirty because he knows that there is nobody standing by waiting to kick his teeth in. I don’t think he’d behave like this if there were consequences, because he doesn’t look to me on the surface like he is an adept fighter. I could be wrong there, but I think Towns would pound him into the ground. He wouldn’t even need five full seconds.
We are going to see a different New York Knicks team tonight. I don’t think these players were happy with the talking heads questioning their toughness. Look at the Kornet and Josh Hart confrontation. Kornet, in typical Spurs’ fashion, hammered Hart to the floor. Hart then tried to kick Kornet’s shins; missed, got up, and shoved him. I think he was fully within his rights to lash out. It was a dirty play by a dirty player on a dirty team. The reality is that the league punishes retaliation regardless of why it happened. I know they are trying to prevent escalation and an all-out brawl, but it is the wrong approach. Since the 1980s and 1990s, the NBA has gradually grown considerably “soft.” That is not a label that you want attached to yourself if you are a professional athlete or part of a professional league in a sport known for contact. “Soft” is someone like a computer nerd or a history professor. Athletes are supposed to be warriors, bloodletters, win or else.
The title of this article, And Out Come the Wolves, was taken from the 1995 studio album by the Punk Rock band Rancid, And Out Come the Wolves. The album is intense, aggressive, high-speed instrument playing, high-energy, gritty, almost animalistic, while at the same time, melodic, with catchy sing-a-long songs, and it is wholly entertaining while taking care of business. It is the way the Knicks must approach Game 4. They must come out in a controlled frenzy, blacking out all the hype and other nonsense, and win that trophy for New York. It is time.
Game 3 was a learning experience. The team almost seemed jolted by the pressure, and they were under considerable pressure. You are up two games to none, at home in the World’s Most Famous Arena, seats so sought-after, people were dropping over $130,000 for one; the President of the United States would be in attendance, the first time in history a president attended an NBA Finals game. Those from Hollywood who mattered were there. Former Knicks greats were there. It was a big night, and though the Knicks are a better team, they didn’t play like it. It happens, it’s sports. Nonetheless, we, as starved fans, were frustrated. Enough beating a dead horse.
Game 4, tonight at Madison Square Garden, is going to be electric. I can’t wait. It is going to be the place to be for those lucky or affluent enough to afford tickets, and the place to be virtually for those of us watching from some isolated island, or mountain top, or outer space.
The last time the Knicks were in a Game 4 was on June 23, 1999, at Madison Square Garden against the Spurs, who were up 2-1. The Spurs ended up defeating the Knicks 96-89 on that day to go up 3-1. On that day, there were mostly sunny skies with a high around 82-degrees. Today, it is cloudy, with a high around 83-degrees. Upper-tier “nosebleed” tickets cost about $60, and premium courtside seats were around $2,700. Today, “nosebleed” tickets hover around $4,000 with some premium, as mentioned, exceeding $100,000.
In 1999, in the U.S., the average annual wage was $32,127.10. In 2026, the average annual salary is approximately $65,000, about double what it was in 1999. Therefore, you would think the cost of tickets would only double, $120 for nosebleeds and $8,000 for premium seats… Yeah, right. In 1999, beer at Madison Square Garden cost between $6 and $7.50, depending on the size and brand. In 2026, $16 to $20 each. You can learn a lot about a culture by studying the costs of goods and services compared to the average annual salary. Karl Anthony Towns is the highest-paid player in the 2026 NBA Finals, earning a base salary of $53.1 million. If he so chose, he could buy, if only buying $16 beers, 3,318,750 beers. That is a lot of beer. That is equivalent to 207,421.875 gallons. Which is translated into my language as 13,382 kegs.
The Knicks were a Cinderella team back in 1999, and, technically, they are today as well, though not as much. The Yankees had an early gameday today, trying to close out a sweep against the Cleveland Guardians. Rodon pitched well. The hitting has looked good, 11 hits, spread out over eight players. Tttthhhhheeeee Yankees win. 8-4. Yanks now 15 games over .500. Despite Spencer Jones’ excellent performance yesterday, he rode the bench today. Not sure what that was all about. I guess that strategy partially plays into the reason why we haven’t won a World Series in 17 years. Not to be criticizing every team that I like, but I felt that was a necessary detail that shouldn’t be overlooked; not that anyone disagrees with me, either. Boone is not using good pathos or logos to persuade us fans that the best way to get back to our winning ways, while our best hitter is on the injured list, is to bench someone who is hitting, after nearly a decade of being in the minors and never being given an honest shot.
Why hasn’t New York City brought Gray’s Papaya back to Greenwich Village? Does anyone know the answer? If you aren’t from that neighborhood, you wouldn’t care anyway. For those of you who remember, those were good times. Back in 1999, a hot dog was .50 cents. Might be best to let that question float away in the winds of passing time. Dive down that rabbit hole, and you might now crawl back out, Alice. Some ruthless landlord, like M. Valenod, will get hold of you, and that will be the end of you.
Gray’s Papaya found themselves in a vicious life and death struggle with their own Mr. Levenspiel, and they lost. Permanently closed since 2014. 1999 is gone. 2014 is gone. 2026 is here, and the Knicks are leading the NBA Finals. What are we freaking out about? Notice how I dragged you into my weirdness and nostalgic rantings. I always feel that people who live in the past, like me, have unfinished business there. People who were able to figure it all out look back then, in the past, see it as a fuzzy memory that disappears when the sun blasts through the bamboo.