THE BLOG
01/06/2015 11:42 am ET Updated Mar 08, 2015

An Open Letter to Phil Jackson: PLAY ME!

Hey Phil, play me. Please. I'm dead serious. I want to play for the Knicks. Like right away. And I promise you the team will do no worse with me than with that miserable overpaid bunch of losers you call a team. That's because you've lost 12 games in a row, 22 of the last 23, and have dropped to 5-32 on the season. The worst you can do with me is win!

Think about it. What do you have to lose? I'm the X-factor you've been looking for to shake things up. I'm 5-foot-8, but I don't jump or shoot like Muggsy Bogues or Nate Robinson. Though 55 and in reasonably good shape, I'll probably need to sit after every three or four minutes. But you'll still do better with me.

Think about it. A small middle-aged Manhattan Jew in orange and blue. The fans will love me, as will the press. We'll start racking up victories. Jewsanity, they'll call it. I'll be like "Rocky." New York loves an underdog, and I'll make the Garden rock like it did when Willis Reed limped out in Game 7 of the '70 Finals. I'll be on ELLEN and JIMMY FALLON. Everyone will be talking about us. And we'll win games. I promise. You've never seen my behind-the-back layup. Just have Calderon keep feeding me.

Think about it. You just gave away JR Smith and Iman Shumpert, two of the team's most colorful personalities. You need me now. I used to do stand-up. I'll be a f'ing hoot in the locker room. Who do you have now for laughs, Samuel Dalembert? I rest my case.

Seriously Jax, this is no joke. You're losing every single damn game, ok? Try me. I guarantee that you can't do any worse with me. I'll even learn that damned triangle offense... and we all know how much you like that... whatever the hell it is. Stop wasting your time on 'Melo. He'll never get it... and you know it.

Think about it, oh great Zenmaster. I'll be on stand-by with my Payless specials laced and ready to go.