It happened
After 53 years of waiting, heartbreak gave way to jubilation… New York’s basketball dream is finally real.
Final Score: 94 - 90
Series Record: 4-1
I’m sorry, but I don’t have the words.
It’s gonna take me a long time to fully process what happened last night.
So, let me borrow two sentences from a father figure of sorts, a brilliant man who served as a sage sherpa, guiding Knicks fans through the wilderness these past few decades.
Shortly after the final buzzer sounded, crowning the Knicks as 2026 NBA Champions (that really happened, huh !?!?!?), ABC cameras found Jalen Brunson and his father, Rick, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Mike Breen superbly narrated the storybook scene:
“You know, life is not perfect, but there are perfect moments. And there’s one right there.”
Couldn’t have said it any better, Mr. Breen. To me, and surely many others, that’s what last night was about.
Some of my earliest memories involve this team. And I shared many of those unforgettable moments with my father. Watching games in his bedroom because only one television in the house had a Cablevision box carrying the MSG Network. Driving back from my CYO and PAL games in the winter, listening to Breen and John “Hoops” Andariese describe the action on the radio. Taking the train into the Garden, holding my dad’s hand as we shuffled through the huddled masses and crowded corridors in Penn Station.
The best sporting memory of my childhood was being inside MSG the night the Knicks beat the Bulls in Game 7 of the 1994 East Semis. When Patrick Ewing raised his arms in triumph, I remember hugging my dad and the random, slightly intoxicated strangers sitting next to us.
I keep the ticket stub from that game on my desk.
I’m looking at it as I type this.
Last night, the very first call I received after the Knicks won the ‘chip (that really happened, huh!?!?!?), right around the same time Jalen and Rick were sharing their embrace, was from my father.
I stopped sobbing for a moment to answer. “We did it!!,” I heard through tears.
A little while later, I was hugging my best friend, Ryan.
“It happened!!!” we screamed.
Our friendship was forged in the fire of fandom. Over the years, we’d talked about what this moment might feel like. Somehow, it exceeded expectations.
Life is not perfect. But there are perfect moments. That was one.
(As an aside, the power of friendship is real. If you don’t believe me, ask a trio of former Villanova Wildcats who woke up this morning with champagne-soaked clothes scattered across the floor.)
As Ry and I wandered around Manhattan, unbridled joy poured out of nearly every open apartment window we passed. Love seeped out of each bar entrance.
Strangers hugging strangers. Men crying into the shoulders of other men.
That’s been one of the most beautiful parts of the Knicks’ journey.
For two magical months, the city, often characterized as cold and indifferent, seemed to transform into a small town.
This Spring felt unusually warm, welcoming and kind.
Fist bumps exchanged between folks dressed in orange and blue. Brief conversations with complete strangers. Smiles and eye contact from fellow fans on crowded sidewalks.
The sort of interactions that rarely survive the rude, relentless pace of a city of this scale. Stuff you never see amid the hustle and bustle of a populous metropolis.
The Knicks united New York in a way few things ever could.
For those of us old enough and gray enough, even the happiest of Knicks memories have always carried a trace of heartbreak. A tinge of sadness.
Yes, beating the Bulls and Pacers in 1994 was incredible, but that team lost its final two games in Houston. Patrick and Starks and Oak and Mase walked off the floor with their heads down, watching someone else celebrate. The 1996-97 squad looked capable of returning to the Finals until P.J. Brown flipped Charlie Ward. The 1999 run was exhilarating until it was ended abruptly by a dominant young big man from San Antonio.
This time around, there is no such bitterness attached to newly created memories.
I took my own son to his first game this postseason. I held his hand as we navigated our way around Seventh Ave and into our seats inside the cathedral that is MSG. One day, he’ll be able to tell his kids that the first time he felt the Garden shake was during the incredible 22-point fourth-quarter comeback in Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Finals.
And he won’t have to add, “they didn’t end up winning the title that season, but…”
No ifs.
No ands.
No buts.
This time, there was a happy ending. The good guys won. No need to look for silver linings amid the sorrow.
No, “maybe next year.” No equivocation, just jubilation.
Just pure, uncomplicated joy.
And it wasn’t just that the Knicks won a championship (that really happened, huh!?!?!?). It was that THESE Knicks won a championship.
How could you not love these guys? Underdogs and castoffs that had been counted out. Players who had been traded away, overlooked, or told, “Thanks for your service, but we think we’re better off without you.”
Landry Shamet played for seven different NBA teams and was forced to sign a non-guaranteed contract last summer. Three different organizations traded Josh Hart before he found a permanent home in New York. Nets fans celebrated Mikal Bridges’ departure because it netted them some draft picks down the road. Jose Alvarado didn’t hear his name called on draft night, never walked across that stage to shake the commissioner’s hand. The Raptors moved on from OG, assuming they were getting younger and better by acquiring IQ and RJ. Jordan Clarkson had to settle for a veteran’s minimum last offseason. Even Karl-Anthony Towns, a basketball prodigy his whole life and former #1 overall selection (the only lottery pick of the lot), assumed he’d spend his entire career in Minnesota. But when the Timberwolves faced financial constraints, they decided he wasn’t worth the cost.
And then there’s The Captain.
Jalen Brunson was told he was too small. Too slow. Not athletic enough.
Becky Hammon infamously informed us that if Brunson was your team’s best player, “you’re not winning.”
Well, the Knicks won.
Brunson got the last laugh.
And a long hug with his dad, who had believed in him all along.
Okay, enough with my emotional rambling….
