Forgive me for being out of the loop.

Forgive me for having little in the way of Olympic reflections, aside from a general contempt for those frighteningly tiny female gymnasts and the dirty old men who coach them.

Forgive me for not being as enthusiastic as I should be about last night's thrashing of Greg Maddux.

Forgive the lack of attention I've been paying to what would seem to be timelier sports happenings, for I have spent the past week and a half riveted to a developing basketball situation--or lack thereof.

It started a week ago when the New York Knicks traded Patrick Ewing to the Seattle in a massive, four-team deal that brought Glen Rice to New York. The embattled Hall of Fame center ended 15 years of service to Madison Square Garden crowds amidst talk that the team was better without him.

Rather than get into the maudlin Ew-logy that some may see coming, I'd like to spend a bit of time taking a look at the team that Patrick left behind. The Ewing trade makes little sense from New York's perspective absent an additional move, and Knick management seems curiously content with the current situation.

First, some history.

Talk of the aging and oft-injured Ewing demanding a massive contract extension at the end of this coming season surely forced the Knicks' hand. New York nearly traded him to Seattle in a different deal earlier in the summer, one that would have brought Olympian Vin Baker to the Garden along with Rice.

But the fourth team involved in that deal withdrew, and the trade died. The Sonics continued to go after Ewing, but it became clear that all New York would be able to squeeze out of the deal was Rice, a perimeter player on the downside of his career. The Knicks held out for a frontcourt player, someone who could begin to fill the void at center.

Apparently, the Knicks feel they have found that player, and his name is Luc Longley.

Luc Longley! That's right, the big goofy Australian guy who jumped on Michael Jordan's back and rode it to three championships but did little else. Luc Longley, whose ability to get up and down the court makes the lumbering Patrick look like Maurice Greene. Luc Longley, who, days after the trade, promptly tore ligaments in his knee and will miss at least the first 15 games of the upcoming season.

Once he does return, he'll be able to find solace in the fact that, on nights when the Garden is loud enough, "Booooo!" sounds a lot like "Luuuc!"

Until then, Ewing's big shoes will be filled by below average backups Travis Knight and Vlad Stepania. They will be enough to make even the fickle New York press long for Ewing's presence. Heck, it'll be enough to make them long for Walt Bellamy.

What frustrates me about the move isn't the end of the Ewing era, which some saw as inevitable, but the fact that little else in the trade makes sense. The Knicks entered the offseason with about five players who can play shooting guard or small forward, and the worst rebounding game in the NBA.

So what do they do? They trade their best rebounder, Ewing, for yet another shooter. Granted, Rice is a three-time All-Star who has shot over 40% from beyond the arc for his career.

But on a team already loaded with perimeter players, including Allan Houston and Latrell Sprewell, his addition seems strange, at best. "Just Add Rice" may be a successful recipe for Harvard University Dining Services on alternate days, but it does nothing for these Knicks.

If no further moves are made, this team will never get another rebound again.

Many expected a follow-up deal to fill the void in the middle. The names Dikembe Mutombo and Chris Webber littered area tabloids the day after the trade occurred, and Knick fans opted to uncharacteristically reserve judgement on the Ewing trade until the other shoe fell.

But during the press conference in which the Knicks' brass introduced Glen Rice to the media, General Manager Scott Layden opened his press conference with a shocking -and unsolicited--comment. He said that no further moves were on the table, and that the Knick team as presently constituted is the team "we're taking to training camp."

Backing him up were officials on both the Hawks and the Kings, who don't seem eager send their respective superstars to the Big Apple.

The only guarantee that Layden or Knick coach Jeff Van Gundy would make is that Larry Johnson would start at power forward, essentially guaranteeing that the team will be undersized for another year.

You have to wonder what Layden and the Knick management are thinking. Perhaps they have decided to give this season to the vastly improved Miami Heat, and look to the free agent class of 2001 for help.

If this is the case, it is a stark and sad departure from the Ewing years. Every year was disappointing, but every year counted.

A great emptiness naturally accompanies the departure of an icon. I saw it coming when I first heard the rumors, and I feel it now.

I didn't expect this emotion to be dwarfed by fears that the team he left behind has no idea what to do next.