At last.

2026 NBA Champions.

This is not AI generated.

No, I can’t describe it. It would never be accurate to the feeling. Ironically, though its presenting as a sense of peace. Which is largely unexpected. I always thought a championship would be loud and boisterous, insurmountable feelings of happiness, toppling over into cheeky grins and endless joy. Instead it feels like somewhere in the universe, chaos has become calm, noise has become peace, the rough has become smooth, as all the pieces that seemed broken, were clicked into place— as if they were right where they needed to be all along, and we just never knew it. There are endless memories I could talk about. How the Knicks became so much to me, a connection with my dad, with my city, and with my love of sports as whole. The feeling of being a New Yorker, what it means to be be tough and relentless and to love something despite getting nothing back for it. The delusional dream of being a sports fan— the Knicks taught me it all.

I will never forget the moments of the Melo 3s, and the Linsanity and the Chandler dunks and Donte bang-bang and the bloody Hart and the Bridges block and OG tip and Brunson. Oh Brunson. But everyone who ever put on the jersey that had New York across their chest, every moment leading up to this one, all the heartbreaks we felt, the leads we blew, and the shots we missed and the chokes we had. It all added up to this. The whole story, the journey to the top. The tales of epics that we read as kids, the challenges the heroes faced to succeed and win, they were right. It takes pain and guts and fight, so close to dying but never dead. A beating heart and a desire to never say die. They never said die.

So long it felt as though the universe was moving against this team. Positive ended magnets, repelling. But somehow, this team, this Mike Brown 10-man-bench team of “second rate” superstars and role guys and OG Aununoby-folk-legend heroes was it. Right in front of our faces all along. We never needed the Giannis or the Mitchell or the Lebron. These guys, the ones who wanted to be here, who despite coming from everywhere, were the ones who became New Yorkers— the true Knicks we had always dreamed of.

And of course it was Brunson, who took it all into his own hands. Who once again proved anyone who doubted him stupidly wrong. How stupidly wrong we were, when he first came, and thought he wasn’t good enough. Too naive to think someone would be willing to grow for us.

We were always the last place, the final destination on the tour of someones greatness. But with Brunson, he emerged with us— developing in the light just as we were stepping into he. He became the ultimate Knick— a player we couldn’t even conjure in a lab if we dreamed it— just as the team emerged with him. He fostered growth, a winning culture and a willingness to believe, not just for 4 quarters but for weeks, months, seasons, that this team could win for real, because he just kept proving it.

Never a game too big, where he was ever too small. There was always a moment in a when it shifted, and he took control. You saw it in the way he handled the ball up the court and weaved his way through the paint with frictionless grace. As though the universe carved paths for just him. That switch when it became his time and frankly, as the opposition, you knew you were cooked— because he had that look in his eye, and he just couldn’t miss. He never missed.

So many times it felt like we cracked players under the lights, but with him, it was as if he was made of bulletproof glass. An armor around our bruised hearts, Brunson was our great protector. This beacon, embracing the light rather than crushing it. He never had us reach up to feel his greatness, but rather he wrapped us in it, and let us feel it all around us.

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What a privilege to say I witnessed a championship of my favorite team. How me and every Knicks fan under the age of 53, for the first time, got to experience something together. How often, at so many ages, so many walks of life and backgrounds can we feel something new for the first time, all together? Experience one collective feeling of joy. What beauty of life sports brings us. What lessons it teaches us. The hope to believe, that in the future, there is something better, sweeter, greater than today and tomorrow and the next. That sometimes just hope, is enough for life.

And isn’t that all we can ask for?