"We are hunkered down around the little white television we use to have.
The television was my then girlfriend Debbie’s when we were in college, and it fits our current surroundings: a somewhat dingy, much too small, yet hoping to be more, one-bedroom apartment, that is really just a studio with a wall.
It is June 17, 1994.
We are watching Game 5 of the NBA Finals, the Knicks are playing the Rockets at the Garden, and we are hoping to watch them go up 3-2 in the series.
We want this win, we are focused on the game before us, and we are not moving.
The Knicks deserve our full attention and they must have it.
This is their night.
This is our night.
And we are taking no chances that we will inadvertently cause the Knicks to lose by getting distracted and not providing them with the proper dosage of the energy, positive Karma, and undiluted attention that only we can provide.
Their win depends on our ability to will it into being so, hence there will be no distractions, just hunker.
But then the chase happens.
Soon NBC is switching between the game and the L.A. Freeway, then they move to a split screen, and ultimately we are forced to do everything in our power to give the Knicks what they need, despite our inability to pretend in this moment that they are all we care about."