Yes, it’s an utterly flawed stat, but let’s saunter over to the poor ol’ plus/minus category and see what we…DEAR GOD. Yes, that’s a negative twenty-five. Yes, that’s entirely reflective of how badly the Knicks played when he was on the court, especially in the ongoing Michelson-Morley experiment that is the 4/5 pairing with Melo. There were some nifty post moves smattered hither and yonder, but those were mostly offset by the hilarity of watching him try to take Larry Sanders in the post, resulting in two consecutive turnovers He can’t be in the starting lineup this time on Wednesday. He just can’t (more on this in a jiffy).

You know when you get your zipper snagged oand your face is curled into a little fist of desperate, inchoate rage as you pull and tear, zip and unzip, your fingers too big to dislodge the surrounding bit of fabric and so you just end up dumbly pulling the entire garment up over your body, lest another human being walk by and see you spastically trapped by a straightjacket of your own devising? Well, that was Melo’s evening in a nutshell. He seemed unsure of where to isolate (and when he did, to limited success), kvetched relentlessly about fouls that were and were not called. He did locate open ‘mates en route to seven assists, and the offense was so discombobulated as a whole, it’s hard to totally fault Melo, but tonight’s game brought back icky memories of last season’s winter of team-wide mediocrity.

Scant action tonight for Tyson, none of it particularly good. As we know all too well, outside of a PnR-centric offense, he tends to disappear. He also looked like a man trying to chase a pen full of agitated barnyard chickens, what with all the times that a Stag got past his original defender. After the game, he unleashed these pearls of wisdom:

Chandler, on Bargnani: "I constantly tell him he doesn't need to be a lockdown defender. He needs to be a great team defender."

— Chris Herring (@HerringWSJ) October 24, 2013

Chandler, on Bargnani's defense (cont'd): "No offense to my great friend, but if Dirk can do it, [Bargnani] can do it."

— Chris Herring (@HerringWSJ) October 24, 2013

Sounds like a great plan, Tyson. You’d probably have better luck to trying to teach Quantum Mechanics to a Pygmy Marmot Marmoset [h/t Seth at P&T, Lord and Protectorate of all hoops-wildlife references], but your heart’s in the right place, and hey, YOLO! Actually, if Tyson’s forced to scramble all season as much as he did tonight, he may suffer a stress-induced cerebral hemorrhage. So, you know, give it a try, but you do only live once.

A slew of pest-astic moments, but he seems out of sorts working outside of the two-PG offense (yes, we’ll get there soon. I promise. Now stop fidgeting in the backseat or I’m turning this recap around and we’re all going home). I think some of his lackluster play can be ascribed to whatever illness or malady kept him out of Monday’s game — the Argentine Flu, perhaps? Early in the first quarter, he seemed to sort of limp/stagger off, with Clyde posting the notion that he was hurt. I dunno about you, but the though of a Prig-free ‘Bocker squad made me scurry down to my survival bunker and start busting out the survival seed packets and heavy armaments. Luckily, he returned later in the half, fresh as a daisy, smelling of unicorn farts and seducing ladies and gentlemen both with a devilish, insouciant twinkle in his eye.

Remember the media day quote where Shump expressed his distaste for his personal calling card, stating he’s only prone to perimeter thievery because he so desires the spheroid object, longing nothing more than to return in to the cylinder that is its natural resting place? (I may be paraphrasing a bit.) We got a few of those scintillating moments tonight, plus a nifty two handed putback and a couple of smooth jumpers off the bounce. And for all our fretting about his emotional state after yet another public tongue lashing from Woody, Coach is right: He overpursues like a fiend. OJ Mayo should probably send a sweet presentation gift basket for all of the unimpeded paths to the tin Shump’s overeager lurching provided.

IKE DIOGU PRESEASON ANAGRAM: I OK. GUIDE

Wait, did C.J. play? Insert “He’s so skinny (How skinny is he?)…that when he stands sideways he gets counted absent,” joke here.

Nothing new under the sun. Some solid individual and team defense. A Smithian ropensity to pass up an easier shot in favor of an off-balance runner/fadeaway/ill-advised drive. Of course, his burgeoning friendship with Iman Shumpert is as heartwarming as mewling baby kittens and as terrifying as those self-same cats, now fully grown, in heat, hissing and trying to claw your eyes out.

I guess it was Cole’s turn to spin the backup-big-who-might-make-the-roster-assuming-Murry-and-Tyler-have-assured-themselves-of-making-the-roster wheel. And hey (Larry David voice), he looked prettttty good, pretttttty good. He’s still got moves around the basket that look like he’s just a relatively tall bit actor from Hoosiers and/or Glory Road (the goofy fumble of a pick and roll feed from Urdih, only to grab what appeared to be a well-lubricated pig in lieu of a leather ball, followed by a bricked dunk being Exhibit A), but he snaggled more than his share of offensive rebounds and actually provided a presence in the middle as opposed to what occurred when Tyson was sitting on the bench working on his scrapbooking and the large Italian fellow played the position with all the grace, speed, purpose, and effectiveness of a 50-lb wheel of finely-aged Parmesan cheese.

Such a chucker. And yet another Knick that seems to think a 15-20 footer is the absolute bees-knees, shot selection wise. When they go in, great, but it’s worth noting that Indiana and Chicago led the league in encouraging said midrange shots. You know, the best defenses in all the land. an

Despite the Knickerbockers attempt to build themselves yet another point out two-guard parts they pilfered from various graves, (See Shumpert, Iman) Toure’s not a floor general. His handle’s too wobbly and really thinks creating means “find a lane for an improbable floater.” His defensive instincts are solid, but he’s still learning how to react to the speed of an NBA game. That said, if the Knicks sacrifice him at the alter of CAA or brotherly love or some shady, under-the-table/Devil’s agreement with the mafia clan that is the Smith family, we’re all gonna throw a major league hissy fit.

Looks like opposing teams (or at least the Bucks) popped a couple of tapes from the previous couple of games into their Betamax. They were closing a lot quicker on Timmy Jr., so it was neat to see him look to drive on a few occasions. There’s a lot to like here, especially when he’s surrounded by actual rotation players — he’s definitely got the athleticism to be a solid finisher, he gets in a good, low crouch on defense (though his lateral movement isn’t the greatest), and he’s a hellion on the break.

Sure it’s the preseason, but someone’s gotta be with me on this: Bargnani looks a lot better / smoother / sexier / more effective when he’s killing YOUR team during the regular season. Sure, there were some promising notes: jumpers sans hesitation, a beautiful drive and dime-stopped turnaround, a smooth baseline J a few moments later. Still, the sour remains, in the form of roadkill-slow defensive rotations, and the fact that Bargs couldn’t jump over a million-dollar bill if you told him he could keep it.

I suppose “missing shots in every conceivable way” qualifies as a legit preseason exercise. I don’t know if Melo temporarily replaced his right arm with a splintered yardstick or woven strands of dried kelp or what – touch just wasn’t there. He did haul in a bevy of tough rebounds in traffic, perfectly timed a couple of defensive rakes, and didn’t force the issue to a concerning degree at the other end. Even had the feed on Chandler’s ferocious dunk. As far as tune-ups go, it was akin to watching a stock car going for pole in a grocery store.

Let’s get this out of the way now: the jumper is a real thing that might damn well work. Anyone who displays Chandler’s brand of free throw mechanics – smooth for a big man, no discernable hitch – oughta have the mid-range J clamped to tool belt. It took a few years (12), but we’re finally here. Overall Tyson looked energize and engaged at both ends of the floor.

A longstanding totem of Beno’s game has been his mid-range prowess – off curls, dribble-drives, on the break, wherever. We saw a dash of that tonight, along with solid D and a steadfast recognition that he really does grasp his primary preseason function: get the youngens involved. He’d eventually have to snap the reigns on his own account late in the game, but overall it was a balanced, impressive showing from someone who might have a real chance of supplanting Pablo Pri * sniper rifle *

Cut a shaky picture throughout, save for a handful of timely, cold-blooded treys. He was victimized pretty routinely on defense – consistent post-up abuse from Gay and DeRozen early, and Terrence Ross’s perimeter heroics later on. As a late shot-clock, catch-and-shoot option, Hardaway is show-ready. As a reliable 20-plus minute a night rotation player? He’s got a ways to go.

If Ike Diagu doesn’t make this team, I might have to renounce the religion I don’t have. The combination of confident spot-up shooting (mid-range, but seldom so far as to seem ill-advised), paint-scrappin’, and a truly barbaric hate for Tyler Hansbrough maks him a cult hero in waiting. Oh, and Robert thinks he looks like Bob Saget in Full House.

I had no idea C.J. Leslie was this skinny. I think you could fit C.J. Leslie into a slot machine or a very narrow bathroom cabinet. The early pull-up was nice, in that I don’t think I’ve ever seen C.J. Leslie make a pull-up jumper. Woody knew he was giving Leslie his longest showcase, and the results were fairly forgettable. I won’t get into why he hasn’t panned out, except to refer you to Mr. Udwary’s terrific piece from earlier today. We’ll just leave it at that.

We’d been hearing quite a bit about Metta’s training camp showing the last few days, so it was nice to see a tangible translation – aggressiveness at both ends of the floor, and a concerted effort to take terrible shots at the worst possible times. Metta’s leadership is evident, but it’s hard not to question whether “getting his” is really the healthiest thing. At a certain point, isn’t it incumbent upon us to wonder whether Metta’s poor decision-make- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA OMG I LOVE YOU PEACE!

A guy who appeared poised for a 10-plus year career while at Memphis, now doomed to the dustbin – at least for now. Deferred early and often, which was great for the offensive flow, and piss poor for his professional prospects. Seems like a good dude, so I hope he sticks somewhere.

There’s an element of style-points at play with Murry: the idea that it’s gotta be really, really hard to transition from college two (at a mid-major, no less) to pro one in less than a year. And the deficit is evident, in the occasional shaky handle and corner-gripping instincts. All that aside, the highlights were erudite: a gorgeous lefty lay-in on the break, a pair of contorting and-ones, and that silly third quarter buzzer-beater. The jumper needs some work, as does his propensity for navigating picks like Captain Beefheart on a slalom. Think about it.