In My Write Mind

That’s all it took to make Allan Houston the toast of the town. Now, after taking one more shot, he knew he was toast.

Monday, Houston gave in to injuries, retiring from the New York Knicks after giving it one more shot the past few weeks during training camp. One more shot to get his legs underneath him. One more shot to give back to the organization that paid him handsomely for his one big shot.

Sadly, he couldn’t.

But he’ll always have that shot. And he’ll know that he gave it one more.

That’s the storyline of most athletes. Especially in New York. You live and die by what you do when it’s all on the line. When it’s expected of you. Derek Jeter hits shots all the time. It’s expected. So does Mariano Rivera. And Jason Kidd.

They built their reputations by delivering when it counted. It’s become what they’re known for. And that’s what made Allan Houston’s shot — his one shot — more special, more gratifying.

He delivered when it counted.

No one knew what to expect from the coach’s son out of Tennessee, and then Detroit, after he signed a free agent contract with the Knicks during the summer of 1996. His college days spoke volumes, said that his shot was pure, smooth. Said that he had big shots in him. He was a solid citizen.

And then he hit his big New York shot. The defining one of his career. Game 5. Downtown Miami. The Heat was on. All even at two games apiece. His team struggling to score, trailing by one to their annual playoff nemesis. Time running out.

Nothing was expected of that Knicks team. They’d barely made the playoffs after a myriad of injuries, including team captain Patrick Ewing. They were the eighth seed playing the one.

And one shot left.

Houston had the ball. Took the shot. His one shot. It definitely wasn’t pretty. Front rim. Backboard. Net.

Good. Knicks 78, Miami 77.

All because of that shot. One that was the catalyst for his team making it all the way to the NBA Finals in a year that nobody expected them to be there.

He was brought here to be a better version of New York enigma John Starks. To hit all the shots that Starks missed against the Rockets in ‘94, to give Ewing a real shot at a championship. To be the answer to New York’s quest for a banner. We knew Starks took shots. Made some, missed some.

We didn’t know about Allan.

And then Houston struggled during his first few seasons. The fans heckled him mercilessly. Said he was no Starks. Didn’t have the heart, the soul. The fire. He was no Latrell Sprewell. Didn’t have the hustle, the defense. The fire. All he had was a sweet jumper and a great personality.

Then he hit his shot. Finally became a New Yorker. Ran around the court like he’d just won the lottery. Like he knew that he’d finally removed the bullseye from his back. Showed fire that day.

Made his shot.

Then came the $100 million contract in 2001. Which led to 100,000,000 questions as to whether that one shot was worth all that money. The contract made it impossible for the team to sign great players to surround their $100 million man.

And that’s the one thing that will always stick with Houston — the one thing besides that one shot. It was the fact that he was good, not great. He had a great jump shot. Made a great shot. But just a good player. True, he had two 50+ point games while he was here, one against Kobe in L.A., made two All-Star teams, won Olympic gold in 2000. He eventually became a co-captain of the team.

But still, even with all that … not worth all that money.

Maybe it was carrying the weight of that contract that caused his knee to give out, caused him to play just 70 games out of a possible 144 over the past two seasons. Maybe it was the enormity of trying to live up to that shot — that great shot — that forced him away from the game and the organization that he loved. Perhaps it was trying to be the man when he didn’t have it in him that made it impossible for him to succeed.

He was never going to be Ewing. Or even Sprewell. He was never one that the fans could identify with. Didn’t personify defense like the early ’90s Knicks. Didn’t help Ewing win the ring that he was brought here for. Didn’t live up to the shot. Got shot down in the process.

He’ll still make $40 million over the next two years. That’s when the $100 million contract ends. It’s ironic that his contract is still running at a time when he cannot.

He gave it one more shot. Went to training camp with the mindset that he was coming back. Going to prove himself. Show his bosses, this city that he was worth the money. One last hurrah for a solid citizen. He never gave up on the city that gave up on him.

Sadly, Houston will be remembered more for his contractual numbers than for his statistics, leaving so many holes in his career, leaving open questions as to what could’ve been, what probably should’ve been.

Sometimes, that’s how it goes. And sometimes, after giving it your best shot, it’s time to go. Houston — and New York — will always have that one shot.

A great shot that turned out to be just not good enough.