I'm Already Missing the Days of the Knicks Championship...

A pizza restaurant so filled with Knicks watching the final championship game, that they overflowed outside onto the Citibikes, watching the tv through the glass. (Ektachrome 100 + Canon Rebel 2000)

I have never been a basketball fan, nor did I previously know anything about the history of the Knicks, but I know what unity feels like. I lived in Lower Manhattan for 3 years, and have lived in various neighborhoods in Brooklyn for 8 years. I have to say, within my 11 total years in the boroughs, I personally have not witnessed anything that brought seemingly EVERYONE together for one goal. One hope. One joy. It was incredible. Profound even.

For however many weeks those games lasted, in the day time, folks would walk around in their Knicks gear. Hats, shirts, shorts, jerseys, socks, you name it. Probably mostly bootleg, but who cares? You couldn't go 10 feet without seeming someone in Knicks gear. And if you never saw anyone in the other teams' jerseys, it's probably because those people were already in the hospital.

At night time, every single street that had a bar or a restaurant was packed like a parade was happening. If you had plans to go to a bar during game time, forget about that, you're standing with a crowd of people watching through the windows from outside.

If a bar had a tv, then they also had a sign outside advertising that they were showing the game and an over flow of customers. When a point was scored, you could hear the screams of joy from blocks away. The people running the bodegas said they didn't have to watch the games, they just listened to the crowd from across the street.

And the night the Knicks took home the championship? Michael and I were in the heart of Times Square just before it happened. Even before they won, we could feel the energy shifting. For once, Times Square was a joy to be in, because we were plugged into something that could be experienced nowhere else. It was utterly electrifying and virtually indescribable. There is nothing like knowing that thousands of people congregating together are all on the same wavelength. You didn't have to care about basketball to feel it.

No one saw it coming, but on the train ride home, everyone's phones were open to a screen following the score. And even though I was happy for the Knicks and for the true Knicks fans, a twinge of sadness set in, because I knew that after the official parade, the energy generated by this cultural event would fade. The connection we all had to the ether would disengage and the newly formed community would disperse. For a while afterwards (and during), we had the FIFA World Cup, which I didn't really get into, but once that ended, it was back to business as usual.

I miss the energy I felt during that time. I knew it wouldn't last, but I wanted to remember what it felt like to have been there.

I was part of it. It felt like witnessing a shooting start.

That's what I'm remembering when I rep my "2026 Championship Knicks" hat.

A bunch of kids setting a Spurs jersey on fire in the middle of the street outside of Bryant park. (Ektachrome 100 + Canon Rebel 2000)

My Knicks hat that sits on my desk, on top of my printer for decoration(/to cover my blank dvd tower), which I wear a few times a week. (Canon Powershot V1)