Knicks 121, Hawks 105: Trae Young = Dorian Gray
There’s lies, damn lies, statistics, and then whatever’s going on with Atlanta’s dimming dwarf star
A Knick defensive rebound turned into a backcourt turnover and suddenly the ball was in Trae Young’s hands, 30 feet from the basket with everything wide open before him. The Knicks had almost no defenders back. He could drive to the cup, likely ending up with a floater, lay-up or alley-oop. He could dribble out to the strongside sideline, dragging what defense there was toward him to create cutting and shooting lanes for his teammates. He could wait until the other Hawks were all back and run a play. Young flicked his wrist. Shot’s up.
Four years ago’s a thousand miles away, but it really was only four years ago when Young seemed to have it all wide open before him. He’d curb-stomped the Knicks, left the 76ers with a nervous breakdown and nearly bested the eventual-champion Bucks. He took particular relish sticking it to the fans at Madison Square Garden (possibly maybe related to the arena literally cursing his name before Game 1 even started). Undoubtedly many of us cursed his name as he sunk one dagger three after another, though I’m not too proud too admit I enjoyed watching him do the same to the Sixers.
What if one of those curses took hold? Maybe some collegian-age Knick fan read The Portrait of Dorian Gray that spring and wished for a twist: that Trae’s game would appear never to change, never to age, yet somehow grow more empty and meaningless over time. That would be the horror, the gruesome – the ease with which a seeming sporting supernova sublimated to a straight-up void. Young’s averaged 25-28 points a game since his debutante ball four years ago. Been a steady 10-plus assists a night, too; he leads the league this season. Dorian still looks the same, on the surface. But it’s not the same.
The Hawks have played 334 games since Trae’s glory days of 2021, including two first-round playoff losses, going 159-175. They retain just enough juice to seem a threat: Atlanta has as many winning streaks of four-plus games this year (4) as New York – and the Knicks’ all came in their first 48 games; they haven’t won four straight since January. But that quality never sustains; whereas the Knicks have lost three or more in a row only twice, the Hawks have six times. Young and Co. are like a sportscar with a dying battery: before you can get your hopes up, the juice is gone.
Interestingly, Young’s potential legacy is beginning to mirror those of one former Hawk as well as a former Knick. Dominique Wilkins and Carmelo Anthony are two of the great offensive players in NBA history. Both were . . . let’s say “inconspicuous” on the defensive end. Both led their teams to one conference final, where they encountered a superior all-time great: in Nique’s case, Larry Bird; in Melo’s, Kobe Bryant; for Trae, it was Giannis. Nique put on a show for years after, but never sniffed such heights again. Melo sniffed ‘em and found they smelled like Roy Hibbert.
It’s getting harder and harder to imagine Young and the Hawks ever returning to that rareified air. One Atlanta possession yesterday ended with Young whipping a pinpoint-perfect behind-the-back pass from above the break to the weakside corner. There are maybe a handful of players who could make the same pass. Only problem? There were no Hawks in the corner. The ball flew out of bounds.
Young didn’t suddenly forget how to play basketball. And despite his villainy established for life, at least on the East Coast, he’s not an antagonistic player or personality. That’s what makes his (downward? sideways?) spiral so much sadder. We’re familiar with lights dimming. We’re accustomed to them flaring up in defiance, even rage. If the sun were to still give us light but cut the heat by 80%, what are we to make of that?
The Knicks were up more than 20 when Young let launch that unresolved three the recap opened with. On a night they had 100 points with 16 minutes still left, that one Young longball was like tossing seaweed at a tidal wave. That it didn’t matter on a larger level either – the Hawks are play-in locked, then either lottery-bound or primed for Cleveland or Boston to bend them over their knee and spank them in four – is scarier. We’re already used to Young and the Hawks’ irrelevance, four years after they briefly became the center of the universe. The Knicks play again tonight when they host Phoenix — speaking of teams crashing and burning like they were built by SpaceX.
As for that three Trae took? With everything wide open in front of him? He missed.
