Up until Wednesday, we knew Madison Square Garden was the Mecca of Basketball.
There were loud Garden nights. There were celebrity Garden nights. To be fair, there were all sorts of nights inside the Garden because there is no event—no cap to its greatness—the Garden hasn’t graced.
But then, there was Game 4.
Like many, most of y’all, I wasn’t there on Wednesday night. Not that I needed it, because even watching from my bed—games are tipping off at 2:35 am in my place—I could still feel everything percolating inside the Garden.
If you just woke up from a week-long coma, let me put it in context. The Knicks were down 29 points in an NBA Finals game. That’s doubly stupid, considering the Knicks were in a Finals game, and that they somehow found a way to go nearly 30 damn points behind. At home, to put the cherry on top.
There they were, your Taylor Swift, Adam Sandler, Ben Stiller, Timothée Chalamet, Kylie Jenner, Spike Lee, Tracy Morgan, Chris Rock, Jimmy Fallon, Larry David, Fat Joe, the whole damn Wu-Tang Clan, Carmelo Anthony, Patrick Ewing, John Starks, Larry Johnson, Metta Sandiford-Artest, and I don’t even know how many more names. It was absurd before the game, let alone the comeback, even started.
It turns out, the Knicks are nuthing ta f**k wit!
Jalen Brunson kept pushing. OG Anunoby kept making threes. Jose was more like Jesus. The lights and the crowd started to become too bright and too loud. San Antonio looked more uncomfortable each passing second, even if they kept hoisting three-pointers like missing them was raising money for their charity of choice.
By the fourth quarter, the Garden was not reacting to the game as much as dragging the Knicks back into it by force, and the other way around.
Then came the final sequence: Anunoby blocked De’Aaron Fox, followed Brunson’s missed shot on the other end, molly-tracked the rebound and tipped the rock in with 1.2 seconds left, somehow giving the Knicks a 107-106 lead and their eventual win in the largest comeback ever witnessed in NBA Finals history.
MSG lost it.
“It’s good! It’s good! It’s good! With 1.2 remaining, Knicks take the lead! OG Anunoby! It’s 107-106!”
This is what made the night feel different, unique, one for the ages, and for generations to remember and remind future beings of.
It was not just the flashy stars sitting courtside. The massive ticket prices keeping blue-collar New Yorkers from entering the venue. The noise. The first Knicks Finals run in 27 years and first legitimate, win-and-win shot at a title for the first in 32 years.
It was the collective feeling that after all of the years of suffering, after every bad season we’ve endured, after every failed rebuild and stunted retool, every fake addition we claimed as the next franchise savior, every bonkers loss, all the Knicks-for-Clicks, and every “same old Knicks” joke got squeezed into one impossible comeback, vaporized, demolished, destroyed, pulverized, and smoked forever.
Entering Saturday’s Game 5, FanDuel is acknowledging the Knicks have all going their way and placing -500 odds on them to hoist the trophy to San Antonio’s +385. The Knicks lead the Spurs 3-1. The Knicks, the goddam New York Knicks, sit just one win from their first championship since 1973 and third in franchise history.
The Garden has had better teams, seen bigger legends, and battled endless ghosts.
Hopefully, the next time the Knicks step into MSG, it’s with a banner waiting for its hanging and unveiling.
