From Willis Reed and Walt Frazier to John Starks, Jalen Brunson, and Mike Brown, one basketball devotee explains why the Knicks’ grit—and a lifetime of NBA memories—has him cheering for New York.
Though the New York Knickerbockers (original name) were never my favorite NBA team, I’m just fine with their winning the championship this year. This year’s team earned my admiration for their character, grit and willpower, after finishing 3rd in the regular season. And I’m happy to see Coach Mike Brown win the big one. As a Golden State Warriors fan, I saw him make huge contributions to the first two championships as Steve Kerr’s assistant. He got sheisted in Cleveland, despite doing a great job.
I’ve been an NBA fan since early childhood, and was blessed to see some of the greatest players of the 60’s-70’s in their primes. That’s because the St. Louis Hawks played a series of games in my hometown of Memphis in the 1966 and ’67 seasons, before they moved to Atlanta. Memphis didn’t pass the audition, but I got to see some of the game’s greatest players. Thanks Dad. Basketball is my favorite game to watch, because it was my favorite game to play until Father Time told me that I had played too long for my own good. I played at a D-III school in the 1970’s, and was the shortest white boy to dunk – for real, ya’ll.
Though the Knicks were never my favorite team, I’ve rooted for them as a secondary fan at times, when they’ve had players I followed in college or minor leagues, or colorful characters I admired. Fans of a certain age remember Willis Reed’s heroic and iconic presence and performance in their 1970 championship run. Walt Frazier’s leadership style and game captivated me in the 1970 and 1973 championships, and the players and characters on both teams were great and fun to watch. I was a HUGE fan of Bernard King and Ernie Grunfeld because I followed them when the played for the University of Tennessee – they’d been recruited by my “Uncle” Ed Weiner, my who was also a native New Yorker, and UT all-American in the 1950’s, plus he was my dad’s former dental partner. I was also a huge Allen Houston fan by way of the Tennessee connection.
As luck would have it, I saw John Starks play many minor league games for the Memphis Rockers of the old World Basketball League. I worked for the Memphis franchise of the now infamous “6’ 6” and Under League.” I was astonished by his off-the-charts leaping ability and athleticism, which I watched from the press table at least part of every game. I was amazed and impressed not only with how high Starks could jump, but how quickly he got off the ground for dunks and rebounds, with his hand half way up the backboard. I told many people at the press table, “If any player from this league makes the NBA, it will be Starks.” He was a brutally effective defensive player, who exuded a supremely competitive attitude. The WBL was a rough league. I saw brutal collisions there that would have been good hits on a football field, but no foul called. And Starks was the roughest, toughest player and most highly skilled on the court every night. When he made it to “the Show” alongside Patrick Ewing and crew, I wasn’t surprised, and got onboard with that team.
This year, it was great seeing all those older players in their seats rooting for the new generation. And all the celebrity super-fans too: Spike Lee, John McEnroe, Ben Stiller, Beyonce, Julianne Moore, Bad Bunny, the Olson girls, Anne Hathaway, Adam Sandler and others.
Jalen Brunson is one of the most amazing players I’ve ever seen. Damn! When he led Villanova to championships in 2016 and 2018, I knew he’d be a great NBA player. But I had no idea he’d be THAT great. Seeing him take it to the hole on Victor Yembenyama , who is 16” taller, was a thrill every time. Especially after Wemby’s insanely dirty play, when he pushed Brunson to the ground by the back of his head away from the ball. He took a beating the entire series, and the NBA refs now let too much “non-basketball” rough stuff go unpunished. Memo to NBA officials: You’re not expected to call every little foul. But when it results in a missed shot or change of possession, you’re not doing your job if you don’t call it!
As a kid in a city without major league sports (the ABA didn’t count in those days), my sports loyalties vacillated; so I rooted for the Knicks leading to their 1970 and 1973 championships because I’d seen some of their players in college or the ABA. I also rooted for them when they had players I’d followed before they joined the Knicks. And since the Grizzlies, Warriors and Pistons all underachieved this year, I can live with the first Knicks championship since I was in high school. It’s complex.
SIDEBAR?
As for me and my basketball perspective: Oh, now I love this game. Over the years, I’ve learned the value of diversifying one’s emotional sports investments. If one of your teams sucks, you can hang your hat on another. Having grown up in Memphis as a huge fan of one of the worst teams in the American Basketball Association (ABA), I’m a huge Memphis Grizzlies fan. When I moved to Ann Arbor for grad school in 1978, I was invited to a Detroit Pistons game that winter, and got onboard with them. They played in Cobo Hall, and were coached by Dick Vitale, who had led the University of Detroit to the NCAA tournament the previous two years. And they sucked, until they drafted Isaiah Thomas, and got better each painful year, until they won it all in 1989 and 1990. And I also love the Golden State (formerly Oakland) Warriors. I got to see Rick Barry play for the New York in the ABA, after getting to see him play in college for Miami vs. Memphis State. When he joined the Warriors, I rooted for him and other players I’d seen play in college or the ABA: Bill Bridges, Jeff Mullins, Butch Beard & Steve Bracey. Plus, I was fan of Coach Al Attles, whom I’d seen play for the Warriors a few years before when the St. Louis Hawks played some games in Memphis.
Though I topped out at 5’ 7” before double scoliosis and disc compression robbed me of my legitimate height, I managed to play at a D-III school in the 1970’s, and at a higher level after that in pick-up and rec league games all over the country. I became a basketball fan before I was three, FOR REAL. I have a spooky long-term memory that includes this: I recall waking up from a nap in the first home I remember, in front of the TV. There was a basketball game going on. I didn’t understand it. But it didn’t take long to figure out that it involved putting the ball in the hoop, and making the net go floppy. I discerned that you had to dribble or pass, and you couldn’t pick it up and run with it. And that each team had a goal on opposite ends of the court. I was so young, I didn’t understand a word the announcers were saying, but I followed the action. When the game was over, the broadcast showed the announcers bullshitting about the game. It all sounded like jibberish to me, and they looked and sounded pretty stupid. So, I started making non-sense, word-salad sounds, and pointing at them. That noise alerted my Black nanny, Clearice, from another room. She came in to see WHAT I was doing-saying, and said something to the effect of, “Boy, what ‘chu doing; you can talk better than that.” I laughed and pointed at the TV, and she realized I was ridiculing the stooge broadcasters. She waved at the TV dismissively, and walked away relieved that I wasn’t having some kind of seizure or bad-brain event, and back into the kitchen.
