In a move that combined the theatricality of a WWE entrance with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, the newly anointed arena overlord (and orange-tinted monument to hair product) Donald Trump decided to turn Madison Square Garden into a fortress of solitude. The only thing missing was a moat filled with crocodiles wearing tiny red ties. The Knicks, bless their perpetually suffering souls, tried to play some basketball, but the real action was happening outside: a security lockdown so tight that even the pigeons needed ID.
Trump’s goons, presumably hired from the same agency that provided the Capitol rioters with their fashion sense, surrounded the Mecca of Basketball with enough metal detectors to make a TSA agent weep with envy. The message was clear: you shall not pass unless you have donated to the Trump campaign or can recite the Pledge of Allegiance in Klingon. The crowd, a mixture of bewildered Knicks fans and Trump supporters who thought the game was a rally, were subjected to pat-downs that verged on the intimate.
One punter reported being asked to remove his lucky underpants. He refused. He was denied entry.
The debate rages on: is this about security or about marketing? I suspect the latter. Because nothing says ‘I’m a serious leader’ like turning a basketball game into a hostage situation.
The Knicks, ever the victims of circumstance, have to play in this circus. They are the clowns. Trump is the ringmaster.
And we, the public, are the ones paying for the peanuts.
