OK. So not really.
But the Pacers closed out the Bucks last night, blowing them out two nights after the Bucks blew them out.. And the Knicks, after epically choking in Game 5, finished off the 76ers. So now it's on to Pacers-vs.-Knicks in the second round -- or, as it was known almost 30 years ago, Hicks-vs.-Knicks.
Indiana against the Big Apple. Broadway against County Road 303. Half-a-million a month for a walk-in closet with a Murphy bed against ... well, a hell of a lot less for a hell of a lot more living space.
It won't be as glorious a culture clash as it was back in the day, but a guy can dream can't he?
Dream of that afternoon in the Garden when Reggie scored, I don't know, eight points in two seconds or something, then made the choke sign at Spike Lee over there in the Knicks' Nicholson seats. Dream of John Starks skulking around making threes and dunking over guys and maybe letting the air out of Reggie's tires when he wasn't looking.
Dream of all those muscleheads bumping and banging and throwing nuclear elbows under the basket, because those were the days when NBA low-block play was more like pro wrestling than basketball.
This won't be that.
Tyrese Halliburton won't be making the choke sign at Spike after sticking another J or dishing a dime to Pascal Siakam. The Knicks' OG Anunoby, who played his college ball in Bloomington, won't be posterizing Obi Toppin and then saying something mean about Mother Bear's or Nick's English Hut. There just won't be the same old enmity.
Although all it would take to revive it is Jalen Brunson making a joke about cornfields. Or, I don't know, Myles Turner coming back with "Does Walt Frazier still play for you guys?"
Please, gentlemen. Please do it, just for old time's sake.
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