Out of his wildest Rocky Mountain dreams, this transformed into one of those nights that Carmelo Anthony had to fantasize for himself.Click here to continue reading
As Anthony plotted his getaway to the New York Knicks, the plan had long been to manufacture a ‘Melo mythology on the world’s biggest, brightest basketball stage. Here he was playing the part of the transcendent franchise star, daring to destroy these Boston Celtics beneath the 17 championship banners. Down goes Chauncey Billups and Amar’e Stoudemire, and still ‘Melo wouldn’t let go of this forever franchise’s throat, wouldn’t let the Celtics out of Game 2 without raining down pure mayhem.
From everywhere on the floor, the ball kept dropping into the basket. He rebounded. He blocked shots. He passed to cutting teammates. This had been a clinic of impressive proportion, ‘Melo gone mad with 42 points, 17 rebounds and six assists. Even with a pedestrian cast of Knicks misfits, he had resurrected the ghosts of Bernard King. Circumstances called for ‘Melo to be magnificent, and he was mesmerizing until the final moments of the Celtics’ 96-93 victory.
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