Over the past decade, the New York Knicks fan base (God bless
'em) have withstood Abrahamian tests of faith—nine losing
seasons, Isiah Thomas, a lifetime's worth of entitled,
dispiriting athletes. Through it all, Clyde Frazier, the
legendary Knicks guard-turned-rhyming TV color man, has had a
headset and a courtside seat. He's had to watch the parade of
misery, and it's hard not to wonder if his mind ever drifts back
to a time not so long ago when he ruled the hardwood, then
showered, dressed and lit up NYC's social scene. In 1967, upon
entering the NBA, Walt quickly earned his nickname, thanks to a
new release, Bonnie and Clyde, and his affection for wide-
brimmed fedoras. Soon after that, the nickname became a full-
fledged persona: the 6-foot-4 fella with the muttonchops, mink
coat, and the Rolls. Frazier was the epitome of cool. He
endorsed a non-basketball shoe and partied with Broadway Joe.
And while Willis Reed limped around the court, Clyde led New
York to its last basketball title. "When I played I was