And I Always Find Something Wrong

Just feels right to play this as you read.

Carmelo Anthony is finally a Knick! Renaldo Balkman is finally a Knick again! (If you keep track of these kinds of things, Isiah Thomas has acquired Balkman twice, now.) These trades usually take on some closing flourishes as paperwork gets sent to the league office, so I am not yet fully clear on what just happened. From what I can tell, this is the trade:

Denver gets Raymond Felton, Wilson Chandler, Danny G, Timofey Mozgov, every remaining Knick draft pick until the Rapture which Isiah Thomas or Donnie Walsh hadn't already traded away, a bundle of cash, a year's supply of knishes, luxury tax relief.

New York gets Anthony, Balkman, Chauncey Billups, Shelden Williams, Anthony Carter, Corey Brewer, Isiah Thomas's growing influence, the chance to big three itself in 2012.

Minnesota gets Anthony Randolph, Eddy Curry and his roving cloud of Cheeto dust.

Donnie Walsh gets marginalized even more.

The inescapable paradox of New York's basketball culture is in full bloom. Despite proudly insisting on being the most erudite fans in the world, New Yorkers are perhaps more susceptible to spectacle than any others. Everyone's arrival heralds revolution, from (Carmelo) Anthony to Xavier (McDaniel). Always. Want more proof? Don't forget Spike Lee on Dan Dickau. That was one of the many big nights in New York. Restoring the roar to Madison Square Garden is never all that difficult, really. Keeping it there is the problem.

Carmelo and Amare are the latest to be tasked with trying. For the rest of this season, New York has the most exciting front court combination in the league, and it has created only the second pair of top-six scorers. (You'll never believe this, but Miami has the other.) This much is given, but of course, the trade means more than those bromides. The Carmelo trade already stretches out toward the future. The plan, which seemingly everyone now discusses at a volume that has steadily grown from whispers to everything but shouting, is clear: Team Toast. Chris Paul may have delivered the most consequential wedding toast of all time this summer when he suggested that he, Carmelo, and Amare might assemble in New York to challenge Miami and any other Big Three iterations. That, it seems, is where New York is headed. And even if 2012 comes around, Chauncey Billups's contract goes away, and Paul doesn't land in Manhattan, Deron Williams might. Maybe even Dwight Howard. Who knows? The New York tabloids have eighteen months to figure it out.

Those anticipating an ascendant New York that can contend for a title assume that not only will Team Toast fully assemble, but also that it will travel an easier path to the NBA Finals, and that it will be ready. By 2012 or 2013, the Celtics are likely to be too old, Tim Duncan over, the Magic disappeared, and the Lakers disbanded. Miami will still be Miami, Chicago may be even more improved, and Oklahoma City may have finally acquired another capable big man. Details aside, the League's upper echelon should have more room. Melo, Amare, and a point guard to be named later plan to seize upon it and a Larry O'Brien trophy. I am skeptical, though. Paul, Howard, and Melo, or Paul, Howard, and Amare certainly could. But these two forwards and a point guard leader? The collected history of basketball suggests that it may not work unless Michael Jordan is involved. Defense and rebounding stay critical, after all.

Really, the trade is no sure thing. Set aside championship aspirations and just consider today. This season may have been forfeited. A revitalized Knick outfit that was limited but an early reclamation project has been stripped of all but two true assets. Now, the Knicks have just one center, Ronny Turiaf, and he's undersized; an aging point guard who can't stay in front of people any more and dribbles too much; two scoring forwards who are not reliable defenders or rebounders; and a collection of spare parts. For all the deserved praise Landry Fields earns, he would be most effective coming off the bench as a swing man, not starting as a shooting guard. One thing we can say definitively: Chauncey Billups has found a new, adoring audience for his pull-up threes. Mike D'Antoni's valentine showed up a week later.

We also don't know if Stoudemire and Anthony can play together, and whether they can do it for D'Antoni. Building a fort, staying up with flashlights under the covers, and pledging to be besties is pretty easy at weddings and All-Star Games. But what about when each players wants to hold the ball, dribble into traffic, and take more shots than anyone else? What about when each looks around for someone else to rebound and defend in the paint but can't find anyone? Chandler's roll in the offense suggests that Anthony's style should fit well, but Chandler never was a star, and he never expected to be one. Anthony, who just held his own team hostage for five months, may not be as amenable to sharing. Carmelo and Amare might surprise us. Perhaps each will seize upon this opportunity that they helped to engineer by committing to being different players and curing deficiencies. Or perhaps they won't.

A team built around the future also has picked the worst time for it. The bounty Denver extracted from New York and Anthony's growing anxiety about a trade both indicated that the protagonist of this saga and his starstruck admirers fear a radically realigned NBA. Anthony could have waited to sign with New York this summer instead of forcing a trade, but his free agency might have been impeded by a new collective bargaining agreement that severely diminished his earning power. Similarly, New York could have held out for the free-agency scenario, however a new CBA might have derailed its pursuit of Anthony and its Team Toast designs. Trading for Anthony now ensured that New York could at least pretend to have sustained its momentum while securing another All-Star. But no one seems to know what the NBA will look like next year and beyond. The Anthony trade all but admits that New York is chasing after shadows in the distance that may not materialize as expected when the Brickers happen upon them.

More than anything, hurtling toward such an uncertain end is what casts the Anthony trade in the same negative light that has shone on the Knicks for years. After working with discipline and purpose to change Knick culture, cultivate opportunity, and repair horrific salary-cap damage, New York reverted to the bad habits which got it in trouble for so long. Only a little more than half a season into sobriety, in effect, the Knicks fell off the wagon, rather than trusting that staying clean and doing right would deliver even better days. New York has made a splash, and it may have set an initial foot on championship terra firma, no matter how circumscribed. Beyond doubt, though, is that New York has taken a huge risk, sacrificed short-term financial flexibility, discarded a big number of basketball assets, and once again placed celebrity glamor before sporting substance. The Knicks may get lucky and find that the organization's addiction to big names and cheap news coverage is finally met by championship basketball. It also might find itself mired in an uncomfortable, untenable morass of its own making yet again. Only time will tell, of course. Here's hoping that we all get to toast the former sometime soon.