Heat 96, Knicks 92: The Knicks are alive
What’s blue and orange and young all over?
Early in World War II, the German submarines, the U-boats, were picking off British supply ships in massive numbers. Great Britain’s an island; without its imports, it couldn’t wage war or even feed its people. Meanwhile, the Soviet Union, the Brits’ strange bedfellow allied against the Nazis, were in need of the raw materials needed for war to fight the Nazis in the east. The United States sent what they could to both countries, but with all the U-boats successes the Allies were hemorrhaging ships, supplies and sailors. What would it take to turn the tide? Irony.
The Germans continued success with submarines led them to build more and more of them. U-boats hunted in packs, which made them more dangerous but which required communications between ships. The Allies intercepted the messages, though they couldn’t decrypt them . . . not until the Germans started putting more and more subs in the sea, which meant sending more communications, which meant more material for the Allies to work with and learn from. The U-boats’ success, in conjunction with other factors, led to their demise.
In the NBA, the opposite is preferred, with failure building the bridge to success. But sometimes, teams suffer the same fate as the U-boats, and too much success kills the golden goose. “The disease of me,” Pat Riley called it. Sometimes it happens to teams that don’t even win.
Two years ago, the Knicks became victim of their own success. After reaching the playoffs behind the brilliance of Julius Randle, Atlanta keyed in on New York’s star in ways he hadn’t seen, like defending Randle on the perimeter with smaller, quicker players after he’d spent much of that season torching bigs lacking his footspeed. The league saw how the Hawks attacked Randle, and a year later he suffered a pronounced pratfall in proficiency. The league countered.
The Knicks learned putting all their eggs in Randle’s basket was not going to end in an omelette. Last summer they made Jalen Brunson their priority and thank God they did. Not only did Brunson and Randle click, Brunson showed all year, including in Game 6, that he’s the team’s best player. Cleveland and Miami tried all kinds of new looks to slow him down. But Brunson’s a patient predator; speed isn’t his strength. Slowing him down just gives him more time to think of a counter to your counter.
The Little General emerged from his first New York postseason as tempered steel, exposed to the fire and strengthened by it. And he’s only 26, which is a wonderful wonderful age for your team’s best player. Patrick Ewing was 26 in 1989. He had soooo many great years left after 1989. Imagine Brunson being awesome till 2033.
The Torah teaches that Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were joined in the flames by a fourth man, and that “the form of the fourth looked like the Son of God.” RJ Barrett is pretty ripped; maybe something got lost in the translation, and “Rowan” became “Yahweh”? Over the Miami series he averaged 21, five and three on 43/38/78 shooting – and that includes a 1 for 10 stinker in Game 6. Still, the Knicks entered the playoffs with a 22-year-old question mark on the wing and enter the offseason with a soon-to-be 23-year-old answer who continues to grow.
The great roiling star in the Knick universe remains Randle, a titanic talent whose highs hit the heavens but whose stumbles and slips make some grumble and flip. His shooting percentage has gone up in each of his three playoff series as a Knick, though 30/34/41 is no epitaph. But Randle is a powerful, durable, Gotham-tested engine. He and Brunson have a year of experience together. Robert Parish, James Worthy, Dennis Rodman and Manu Ginóbili were never the best player on a contender. Not second-best, neither. But as third bananas, they were top bananas. On a team that emphasized the glass, Randle was third in offensive rebounds and fourth in the NBA in defensive rebounds. Two-time All-NBAers don’t come along very often. The Knicks will explore any move they think makes them better. Could they add a star to pair with JR and JB? Would Thibodeau endorse moving his right-hand man? Would Leon Rose move on from Thibs if that’s what it takes to take the next step?
New York’s offseason will orbit the same energies the city does: money, dreams, youth. There are people who gonna get paid, people who gonna get opportunity and people who gonna get traded. Does the organization like Barrett and Josh Hart together? Because Barrett just got a new deal and Hart is due for a pay raise of around 50%. With the league’s new and most assuredly massive media rights deal just around the corner, plus sports gambling revenues spreading like white nationalist terrorism, it’s easier to see them spend more than $40M per on two wings who aren’t “plus” shooters. And if we train our eye to its coldest lens, retaining Hart adds diversity to the Knicks’ collection of contracts — should such a consideration ever come into being.
Breathe in as much of the old world as you can; it’s already fading. The new world arrives sooner than you think. In 1943, Stalin, FDR, Churchill, Hitler, Tojo and Mussolini were the masters of the universe; by 1945, one had been assassinated, one committed suicide, one passed away, one was arrested and would be executed, one saw their party lose an election and the other was Stalin. Everything about these Knicks at this moment in time – this front office; Thibs; the possible Dallas pick; having the pieces to make The Big Move – could be gone before you know it. We wait decades for a team like this. As soon as it’s off-stage, we shoot it up with potential and pressure and pray it sorts itself out by next year. Let yourself sit with this one a while. Sip it with your coffee. Smear it on your bagel. Take it for a walk. The world is dying. The Knicks are alive.
