A hug I didn't need
You’ve probably seen the photo by now. If not, here you go (courtesy of my former employer, The Associated Press).

If body language tells a story, it is not a mutual hug. Even if I wanted to return Stephon Marbury’s mock affection, my arms were immobilized and pinned to my sides. I didn’t drop my digital recorder, so I can relay what my favorite point guard was telling me.
“I’m prayin’ for you, man.”
Great. Thanks.
This came much to the amusement of my assembled colleagues/supposed friends at the Knicks’ media day festivities today in Greenburgh. The photo pretty much shows the extent of it, so we were never in danger of having a Richard Todd stuffing Steve Serby into a locker moment.
Then again, there were no lockers.
This isn’t about me or anything I wrote, and shouldn’t be. I have been pretty clear in my opinion that Marbury has no place on this team, and that as long as he is here, he will disrupt the Knicks’ rebuilding process. I can report with confidence that many of his teammates feel the same way. The ones I talked to who witnessed the media throng around Marbury’s table, and his grandstanding bear hug involving yours truly, didn’t think it was funny or surprising. Mostly, they thought it was sad.
And it is.
Marbury’s teammates view him as a disease that won’t go away – a suitcase they wish could’ve been lost by the charter company on the 20-minute flight to Saratoga Springs this afternoon.
The right thing will be done, and Marbury will be gone – eventually. It will happen either when Donnie Walsh is able to unload him on some unsuspecting or desperate general manager, or when he can no longer tolerate the distraction.
Marbury went on and on today about the clarity he has, and about how he no longer cares what is written or said about him. It sounded an awful lot like the tune he was singing last July, when he opened up about the inner peace he’d found. Four months later, he left his team in Phoenix and flew home to New York to pout.
Not much has changed, people. Marbury says he is 25 pounds lighter, but the baggage he has thrust upon his teammates is heavier than ever.
Despite what he says, Marbury obviously still cares what is written about him. It is all getting quite boring. Listening to him go on and on about how kids read the papers and tell his kids all the bad stuff that is written about him made him seem like a relic from a bygone era – among other things. Several national NBA writers witnessed his screed, and their writing doesn’t appear on paper, but on the Internet. (They can’t believe he’s still on this team, either.)
I went to Greenburgh determined to find another issue to write about, because honestly, Marbury has gotten old. But as long as he is here, making a spectacle of himself, nothing else can move forward.
When I pointed out to him that his newfound peace and happiness speech sounded an awful lot like what he said last summer, this is what he said to me:
“To really be honest, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you say. It doesn’t matter that you call me toxic and that you call me all of these different things. Because that’s what you’ve got to live with. It’s not me, it’s you. So I don’t feel like I have to explain anymore. I’m just going to let my game do my talking for me, and that’s it. Because speaking and saying something, it does nothing for me. Because any time that you can say the things that you said about somebody and feel like it’s OK, and allow people to read that, and when they read that, they think that you’re right on and you’re dead on? That’s a wild, crazy song to be trying to sing to somebody.
“But it’s OK, because I’m just going to pray for you, because that’s all I can do for you is pray for you. I can’t do nothing else. I don’t want you to be feeling like that, you going home with that inside you. You’ve got to lay down and chill with you family. I don’t want you to feel that no more. But like I said, it’s OK, because remember, I got kids too. And there’s kids that read the newspaper and they go back and they say things like that to my children. So it’s really personal, but then again it’s really not personal, because that’s who you are. So I’ve got to teach my kids not to be like you.”
A wild and crazy song indeed. Somebody please stop the music.
