The drums of the playoffs had begun beating early for the New York Knicks.
The revelry of All-Star Weekend was like a stone cast into a lake, its ripples swiftly spreading across the entire league before being swallowed by the more turbulent undercurrents of the regular season's second half.
At this moment, the NBA ecosystem displayed a stark polarization between two extremes.
For teams that had long since reserved their seats in the lottery drawing—such as the struggling Vancouver Grizzlies, the chaotic Los Angeles Clippers, and the Golden State Warriors, whose rebuild remained nowhere in sight—the rest of the season had become a proving ground for young players and a grand showcase of management's "tanking."
Losing was no longer a disgrace, but a necessary evil on the path to a future cornerstone. Every defeat brought them one step closer to Kenyon Martin—the most highly anticipated prospect since Tim Duncan.
For the predators standing at the top of the pyramid, however, the real hunting season had only just begun.
In their first game after the All-Star break, the Knicks hosted the visiting New Jersey Nets at Madison Square Garden.
It was a game with little suspense, yet Jeff Van Gundy's lineup arrangement left everyone utterly shocked.
Arvydas Sabonis, the thirty-five-year-old Lithuanian giant, sat calmly at the end of the bench in a crisp custom-tailored suit. He had not even changed into warmups.
Van Gundy's official explanation was "knee maintenance and rest."
Everyone knew perfectly well that this marked the official launch of the Knicks' playoff strategy. Like maintaining a precision F1 race car, they had begun carefully managing the workloads on their veterans' bodies.
Without Sabonis's interior playmaking and sheer bulk, the Knicks' offense initially looked somewhat sluggish.
But before long, "Madman" Sprewell took over the game. Like a beast freed