Knicks Forever

New York City may have problems, but right now, a lack of civic pride in the hometown team ain’t one of them.

Below is sumpin’ I wrote a few days ago but didn’t do nothin’ with. Since then, the Knicks wiped the floor with the Cavs. May I state here what I did not in the below piece? I hate James Harden and his stupid Luden Brothers cough drops beard, mostly because he’s so damn good. BUT NOT LAST NIGHT, no no, he did not dominate; while the whole Knicks bench brought it, Josh Hart stole the show (that one-hand shot? Come on!).

The city is bananas for the Knicks, as proven by the above pic—on Smith Street in Carroll Gardens, three bars alongside, people spilling into the street—I put on Twitter having been clicked on 5 million times and counting. You want it for your paper, NY Post, be my guest!

As I keep saying over on the Smoke ‘Em podcast, this series man, every game is a barnburner. Where you watchin’?

Like any good New York City girl who’s been alive through two Knicks dynasties, I have been gaga over how the team has been performing, no more so than Tuesday night, when they came back from a 22-point deficit to the Cleveland Cavaliers, including a clutch Jalen Brunson three-pointer over the Cavs James Harden, a shot that had the fans in the Garden erupting so loudly I could practically hear them from the Bowery bar where I was watching the game. This, because I don’t subscribe to ESPN, Peacock, Sling (day-pass), YouTube TV or one of the seemingly 3,685 other pay channels the NBA this season has seen fit to rotate the playoffs.

You know what I do have? Instagram (and Twitter, and YouTube), which for the past month has crowded my feed with Everything Knicks, and really mostly Brunson, the clutch moves, his toddler daughter saying, “Hi dada!” while he’s in a presser, his best friend Josh Hart eating a chicken wing into the mic alongside him, precipitating another of their faux squabbles.

Whatever the opposite of doom-scrolling is, this is it.

Brunson, who famously never smiles while the game is in-play, telling interviewers and late night talk show hosts how there is one person he will hug after losses, actress Mariska Hargitay (”That’s my girl”), that he’s been listening to Justin Bieber before every game since he was a freshman at Villanova. Hugging Josh Hart’s kids. Hart hugging Jose Alvarado’s kids.

IG also shows everything courtside, the phalanx of former Knicks, Frazier and Carmelo, Stoudemire and Starks, all just so damn proud of what they’re seeing on the court. There are the stalwart celebrities, Jay-Z and John McEnroe, Ben Stiller (who’s got a Knicks-heavy Twitter feed) and Tracy Morgan (who back in March did puke near the feet of Steven Spielberg’s daughter but hey, who among us?).

Tina Fey, Timothée Chalamet and Kylie Jenner inspired memes. A Knicks-produced video where Patrick Ewing tells Brunson, whose father Rick played for the Knicks in the late 1990s, “You were born to play basketball.”

Tuesday night brought all this to another level. Yes, Instagram, please keep showing me Landry Shamet tying the game with 50-seconds left…

… and MSN analyst (and former Georgetown Hoya) Monica McNutt in the announcer’s booth waiting to see if the shot would drop, and pumping her fist when it did…

… and the explosion outside the Garden after the win, a sea of thousands, many in Brunson jerseys and Yankees caps screaming ‘LET’S GO KNICKS!” New York City has a lot of problems, but right now, a lack of civic pride in the hometown team ain’t one of them.

I am the daughter of a diehard Knicks fan, my late father having season tickets to those first Knick glory days and taking to me to many a game when I was in the single digits. (I am not the only New York kid who thought the legendary forward’s name was Dave the Butcher.) He would have loved being able to watch replay after replay on the socials, and would absolutely love this team, even and maybe especially how Brunson leaves it all on the court, no smiling until after the last buzzer. Knicks forever.