Quoting F. Scott Fitzgerald is a cliche move, especially in a Princeton publication. But I'll do it anyway, citing the facetious notion that we Princetonians have a special connection with his ideas. The oft-repeated quote is simple: "There are no second acts in American lives." Some may believe that such sweeping appraisals of modern life are irritating because they are false.
Those who have been monitoring the saga of former NBA superstar Isiah Thomas, however, might beg to differ. Thomas, now the coach and general manager of the New York Knicks, just received a contract extension from owner James Dolan, the wayward son of Charles Dolan, founder of HBO and Cablevision. A baby-faced, confident man, Thomas had managed the Knicks into the lowest echelon of the NBA before taking over as coach this season. Dolan threatened Thomas, telling him and the media that, without improvement, he would be summarily fired. But after a drastic improvement this season, the Knicks now find themselves in contention for a playoff spot.
Will the extension of his contract trigger a new era in Isiah Thomas' professional life?
Now that he finally has a measure of job security, will Thomas begin to look at the big picture? Or will he remain a man with one eye always on the next opportunity, a scrapper by nature, just trying to survive another year?
Could this be Thomas' second act? Fitzgerald, if given a rundown of Thomas' life, would probably say no and proceed to write a novel based on the man. For when he scribbled that line on a scrap of paper, he did not mean that Americans cannot start over or that we cannot reinvent ourselves. Thomas, after all, has achieved that goal, moving from one failure to the next. Rather, the quote implies that Americans can have many first acts but that we never finish them.
We have many starts, but we never have a resolution. In short, there are no happy endings.
Thomas is a perfect literary character in this sense. He has been around the block repeatedly, using people as he has seen fit. Though he has failed every time, he always miraculously lands on his feet.
This is not to say that his resume is without merit: He has an inconsistent but decent eye for talent, and he is a serviceable coach. One could say that he shows just enough promise to get hired. Add this quality to his defiant street smarts and manipulative personality, and you have one of the enigmas of the sports world.
Before his arrival in New York, Thomas's= most notable debacle was his failure as owner of the Continental Basketball Association. He headed an investment group that bought the CBA, the former minor league for the NBA, in 1999. His time as the league's head honcho was short and marked by excessive spending (a trait that would come to be the hallmark of his time with the Knicks).
He left the CBA adrift after jumping on an offer to be the head coach of the Indiana Pacers, and, as a result, the once-proud league folded only a year and a half after Thomas bought it.
In his new start with the Pacers, Thomas found a degree of success but was later fired by the team's president, Larry Bird, in 2003; the two former greats never got along. For Thomas, it was off to the Knicks and into the waiting arms of Dolan.
In the New York press, the relationship between Thomas and the Knicks' owner has been an object of constant ridicule.

Dolan is seen as the rich dimwit with no basketball sense, and Thomas is seen as his slimy confidant — the man always whispering in his ear to assure him that everything is going according to plan and that it is everyone else who is wrong.
A compelling characterization, to be sure. It cannot be too far from the truth, either, because Thomas' ineptitude as the team's general manager has already reached legendary status.
The Knicks have the highest payroll in the league, yet the collection of players he has amassed is astounding in its inadequacy. There are too many mistakes to list in one place; it is enough to look at Thomas' move for Stephon Marbury, one that does not usually get criticized because of the relative sanity involved. This is not to imply that the move was a good one, though: The return of Marbury, a New York City legend, to his roots surely caused a few Coney Islanders to shed a tear, but it is common knowledge that the man will never lead a team to a championship.
And that is the ultimate point. While a novel reflecting the professional failures of a character similar to Isiah Thomas may be considered a work of art, consistent (though fascinating) failure is not acceptable in sports.
The Knicks are one of the league's premier franchises, and the memories of the tough teams of the 90s are still fresh in the mind. A great basketball city such as New York demands a title contender, and Thomas will never produce one.
Yes, the Knicks have improved this year, but fans should be wary, not elated. One can envision Thomas, backed by unlimited money, eventually turning the Knicks into a consistent playoff team. Dolan will keep him around for years, but Thomas does not have the coaching talent, nor the managerial acumen, to win a championship.
There will never be such a perfect resolution for the man; there is no final act in the cards for Isiah Thomas, one of F. Scott's Americans.