The Apple Bites Back

Last season, when he revived the Knicks, ESPN the Magazine put him on its cover with his prize acquisition, Stephon Marbury, and the headline, "Can Steph and Isiah Save the East?"

Unfortunately for them, that was last season. This season they resumed their long march to nowhere. At last week's trading deadline, division rival Philadelphia got Chris Webber and division rival Boston got Antoine Walker back. Weeks before, division rival New Jersey got Vince Carter.

Thomas got Malik Rose, Mo Taylor, two No. 1 picks and grief.

On the back of the New York Daily News was a full-page picture of Thomas looking wan, next to the words, "DUNCE CAP."

On the back of the New York Post was a full-page picture of Thomas, looking agitated, with the words, "BUM DEALS."

These days among the Knicks, struggling at 23-33, one takes one's silver linings where, and if, one can find them. Assistant coach Brendan Suhr handed Thomas the Post page with a picture of Pope John Paul II on the front and Isiah and "BUM DEALS" on the back.

"Take that home and show your daughter," Suhr said. "You and the pope!"

Exactly. In the world capital of the culture of celebrity, John Paul II and Isiah Thomas are the same thing: stars. It was why the city fell at Thomas' feet when he replaced shy, retiring Scott Layden 15 months ago and began giving everyone what they craved most and hadn't had in years ... action!

Thomas backed up the truck, unloading Coach Don Chaney, Keith Van Horn, Antonio McDyess, Howard Eisley, Charlie Ward, Clarence Weatherspoon, Michael Doleac, Shandon Anderson, Othella Harrington and Frank Williams.

The Knicks were 10-18 when Thomas arrived and 25-27 on Feb. 8, when they almost threw him the first midseason parade. Madison Square Garden President James Dolan said they could go "all the way." After a Feb. 27 victory in Miami over the 21-29 Heat, a WFAN host crowed, "The Knicks are back! The Knicks are back!"

They didn't even make it to .500, finishing 39-43, although that was good enough for No. 7 in the East. They lasted four games in the playoffs, all losses to the Nets.

This season, they started slowly and the new people began getting recycled too. Before Coach Lenny Wilkens "resigned," Thomas sent his assistant, Mark Aguirre, downstairs to join Wilkens' staff, and there was an awkward moment when Aguirre and Suhr negotiated for the last remaining chair on the front row.

Around here, they're not particular about who's being shipped out as long as someone is, and Thomas has done the most dangerous thing of all. He raised expectations.

By turns, Thomas is surprised ("One thing I've never been called, is stupid") and resolute ("They've never met anyone like me"), but he understands it.

"Being a player and being a coach," Thomas says, "everything that goes along with that and all the years I've had in other places, it helped to prepare you for New York. But you just can't understand it unless you live here. I mean, you really can't.

"And the one thing you can never do is take it personal because it's not personal. You're part of the entertainment show."

It's not a problem at all, if you can take a picture of yourself with "DUNCE CAP" next to it impersonally.

We'll Take the Bill Now, Waiter

Thomas' most daring move, or biggest mistake, was taking the job after the Knicks put off rebuilding as long as it was humanly, or corporately, possible.

Pat Riley left in 1995, knowing Patrick Ewing, John Starks and Charles Oakley had seen their best days. Nevertheless, they maintained the illusion they were a contender, at least, which seemed good enough in the city, clinging to its memories of the '90s.

In the spring of 1999, Coach Jeff Van Gundy, who had been earmarked for termination, led his eighth-seeded team to an improbable berth in the NBA Finals, where it lost in five games to San Antonio.

In 2000, the Knicks got back to the East finals but in 2001 were eliminated in the first round. Garden President Dave Checketts was fired within days. Van Gundy resigned 21 games into the next season and there went their illusions.

Dolan, the new president, was the son of the head of Cablevision, the corporate owner, and had no experience in sports. He would be on the job for three seasons before the Rangers or Knicks even made the playoffs, once deemed mandatory.

People whiled away the time saying things such as, "You can't rebuild in New York." In the heart of the cold, cold city, Dolan actually tried to sell the notion that they were more successful than the 1999 team with all its palace intrigue.

"What were you guys writing about that year?" he asked Knick writers in an impromptu interview in the fall of 2002 that suggested why he did so few. "This team has character and composure, a lot more composure than that team."