Life is all about choices.
Every day, we’re presented with opportunities to make life a little better for the people around us, or a little worse.
You can return the shopping cart.
You can pick up after your dog.
You can park in one space instead of two.
They’re small choices, but they reveal something important about a person: whether they care about anyone besides themselves.
And then there’s donald trump.
Nobody in American politics has been presented with more opportunities to take the high road, unify people, or simply stay out of the way when necessary.
And time after time, he chooses the opposite.
Which brings me to tonight’s Knicks game.
The Knicks are in the NBA Finals for the first time since 1999. They’re riding a remarkable winning streak. New York hasn’t won a championship since 1973.
The city is electric.
And now trump has decided to attend Game 3.
It’s such a perfectly trump move.
A moment that’s supposed to belong to New York.
A moment that’s supposed to belong to the players, the fans, and a franchise chasing history.
And somehow, he’s found a way to make it about himself.
Normally, who cares?
Presidents attend sporting events all the time.
President Obama attended basketball games and received standing ovations.
But Obama is Obama.
Whether you agreed with him politically or not, he had a natural coolness that translated almost anywhere he went.
trump is different.
Outside of UFC events and carefully curated MAGA rallies, he gets booed. Loudly.
And nowhere is that more true than New York City.
Let’s be honest.
New Yorkers know trump better than anyone else in America.
We’ve been watching his act for decades.
Which is why this decision is so baffling.
The Knicks are two wins away from something generations of fans have been waiting their entire lives to see.
People who weren’t even born the last time the Knicks won a championship now have kids of their own.
This isn’t just another game.
This is history.
And sports fans are superstitious as hell.
If you’ve ever watched baseball, you know there’s an unwritten rule about a no-hitter.
You don’t talk about it.
You don’t mention it.
Some players won’t even sit near the pitcher.
Nobody wants to be the person who jinxes the magic.
The numbers explain why.
Only 327 no-hitters have been thrown in Major League Baseball history.
Only 48 have happened since 2000.
When something rare is happening, you leave it alone.
You don’t mess with it.
Yet here comes Mr. “Look At Me.”
Because now thousands of fans have to alter their plans.
Additional security.
Additional delays.
Reports that fans are being told to arrive hours earlier than normal.
Watch parties that were planned for fans have reportedly been canceled.
For what?
An ego boost?
A photo op?
Twenty minutes of attention?
It’s a choice.
That’s the thing that always gets me about trump.
It’s always a choice.
Nobody forced him to go.
Nobody demanded he be there.
He could watch from the White House.
He could watch from Mar-a-Lago.
He could watch from literally anywhere else on Earth.
Instead, he chose to insert himself into the middle of something that wasn’t about him.
Again.
And if the Knicks lose?
Good luck.
Because New Yorkers will never hear the end of it.
Every missed shot.
Every turnover.
Every bad bounce.
The jokes will write themselves.
The conspiracy theories will flourish.
The sports radio calls will become legendary.
And the hatred for trump in New York will somehow become even stronger than it already is.
Which honestly seems impossible.
The funniest part is that somebody in his orbit has to know this is a terrible idea.
Some adviser.
Some staffer.
Some poor soul who still has access to reality.
But maybe they’re too afraid to tell him.
Maybe he’s surrounded by people who spend all day assuring him that everyone loves him.
“Of course New Yorkers will cheer, Mr. President.”
“Of course they’ll be thrilled you’re there.”
“Of course this is a great idea.”
Meanwhile, reality says otherwise.
Because sports occupy a unique space in American life.
Politics divides us.
Sports brings us together.
I’ve lost count of the number of times complete strangers have started conversations with me because I’m wearing Knicks gear.
I’ve lost count of the number of people on social media who despise everything I post politically but suddenly become my best friend when the Knicks are winning.
For a few hours, politics gets put on hold.
People unite around a team.
A city.
A dream.
And somehow trump found a way to inject himself into that too.
It’s honestly impressive.
In the worst possible way.
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Because this isn’t just about basketball.
It’s about a pattern.
A hurricane hits.
A tragedy occurs.
A national celebration happens.
A historic sporting event unfolds.
And somehow the focus always shifts back to him.
America’s upcoming 250th birthday celebration should be about America.
Not trump.
Not his ego.
Not his vanity projects.
Not billion-dollar ballrooms.
Not giant monuments nobody asked for.
Not putting his face on currency.
America belongs to all of us.
Republicans.
Democrats.
Independents.
Everybody.
But once again, trump has made a choice.
The same choice he always makes.
Himself.
Maybe he’ll stay home.
Maybe someone in his orbit will finally tell him the truth.
Maybe he’ll realize that not every moment has to revolve around him.
I wouldn’t bet on it.
Because life is all about choices.
And for as long as I’ve watched him, trump has chosen himself every single time.
As a Knicks fan praying for an unjinxed Game 3, I’d be thrilled if tonight is the exception.
What do you think?
What’s the most selfish decision trump has ever made in your opinion?
What’s the biggest example of trump making something about himself that should have been about someone else?
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
There aren't enough pixels in the universe to list a single example of each, but I'll be interested in others' choices. This longtime Celtics fan is cheering on the Knicks but infuriated by how Chump is trying to appropriate the entire event. I hope I'll be able to hear the boos even though I'm more than a thousand miles away. In 1970, I met Bill Bradley, Dave DeBusschere, Willis Reed, two other Knicks I can't remember, and the front line of the Celtics at a tiny television station where I worked after college, and I've been fond of the Knicks every after. I'm sorry they have to endure this.
47 insists on Chaos.
Look. At. Me. mode locks in.
Control is the priority.
*Dr. Jeezus* has entered the building and will make miracles happen. A Spectacle thanks to Don the Con.
47 will be pumped up on uppers to keep him awake. The Play Is The Thing! ( Sorry Shakespeare)