Good night, New York.
Good night, Reggie Bullock. Your flailing elbows may finally find the rest they desperately need in the idleness of the offseason.
Good night, Taj Gibson. I hope your time in the starting lineup was cherished, as it may be your very last. Mitchell Robinson won’t be injured forever.
Good night, Nerlens Noel. Shooting 10-12 from the free-throw line in Game 3 was your sole highlight in this series. No comment.
Good night, Alec Burks. Your postseason heroics from Game 1 of this series are all but a whisper now. More specifically, a whisper silenced by Trae Young’s finger.
Good night, Immanuel Quickley. Hopefully an All-Rookie nod will be enough to wash the taste of<6 points per night in these last 5 games out of your mouth.
Good night, Obi Toppin. Much like your rookie season, your first taste of the postseason was wholly forgettable. Let us hope next season spares you from the gruesome fate of becoming Kevin Knox 2.0.
Good night, RJ Barrett. The fate of this franchise lies with, above all else, you. You’re still young. You have plenty of potential. Please don’t let these last five games start a trend.
Good night, Derrick Rose. The ghost of that elusive championship continues to taunt you. Your finger is lonely without the companionship of a ring, the lone accolade that could legitimize your Hall of Fame consideration. The hourglass is pouring thin, however. Make your next few seasons count.
Good night, Tom Thibodeau. Your contributions to this team were stellar beyond belief. It’s a shame they went up in a heap of flames that’s all but patented to the Thibs brand. The big question is, was this season a triumph or a disappointment?
Good night, Julius Randle. May the cold metal of your KIA Most Improved Player statuette give you comfort as you somberly reflect on what went wrong in this dreadful, dreadful series. Watching your transition from the regular season to the postseason was like watching a phoenix erupt into a brilliant display of flames, take flight into the night sky, and then get crushed under the break of an intense downpour.
Good night, Knicks fans. Talk about karma – the Hawks all but spat (get it?) on your limp, squalid re-introduction to the playoffs. What was once a great return to form for New York basketball turned into an atrociously embarrassing end to a strong season. In Game 1, Madison Square Garden was stuffed to the brim with jeering, rabid jerks who chanted vulgarities and behaved with little to no sportsmanship whatsoever. By the end of Game 5, it was a silent graveyard for the hopes and dreams of the Knicks’ supporters.
Good night, New York. On the bright side, the Yankees and Mets are playing well. Find solace in that, if you will.
Good night, Knicks.