As a psychologist and a New York Knicks fan, I’m no stranger to the feeling of ambivalence. Both rational thinking and mindfulness are often at odds with my rabid and unbridled fandom. There’s no telling how much real estate those categories take up within the ven diagram of my brain.
To make matters worse, this is often complicated by watching years of mediocre basketball, in which even the smallest glimmer of hope is magnified a thousand times.
A prime example of this struggle takes the form of the excitement I have for any new player (even if they found him on the scrap heap) that signs for the Knicks.