Another night, another W, another sign the winds of change are blowing through MSG.

The New York Knicks and San Antonio Spurs were tied at 107 with five minutes left when Jalen Brunson missed a lay-up. The next time he had the ball Brunson turned it over, leading to two Spurs free throws. Two days after achieving nirvana in their win over Phoenix, the Knicks were a tangled mess of suffering, desire, and the sense that the self was about to trip and tumble into limbo. Close your eyes and you knew what was coming: a 20-19 record; questions raised right on the heels of hopes raised; a hedge to hold against anything good they did the rest of the year – “Sure, yeah, but remember they did get swept by the Spurs.” Made all the sense in the world: .500 is the lodestone whose gravity invariably calls the Knicks home, no matter how badly we and they wish for them to break free.

To break long-standing cycles requires two difficult reversals: changing your reaction to your triggers and digging new paths of hardwiring. Let’s start with changing things up. Late in the opening quarter, Julius Randle turned the ball over and Josh Richardson took it the length of the floor, nothing in front of him but daylight and two points. You knew what was coming. If Randle had any response, it’d pro’ly be a public display of annoyance toward whatever teammate he blamed for the turnover; best-case scenario, he’d gripe to an official. Richardson scoring was set in stone; there are caves you can visit in France featuring the world’s oldest drawings of Randle sulking while the action goes the other way. But now is not then.

It’s been a while since the Knicks’ best player also measured up as a follow-my-lead leader. Carmelo Anthony’s vibe was mostly points, becoming a digital athlete and then everything else, in that order. Stephon Marbury carried the distinct whiff of “You know I’m doing you all a favor being seen with you, right?” Not since the man whose Georgetown Hoyas have now lost 25 straight Big East games patrolled MSG has there been a three-dimensional All-Star. 

Now, one chasedown block does not a Patrick Ewing make. But listen to the roar of the crowd for that one play, so early in the game against a team no one cares about. I nearly leapt out of my chair. 

Randle’s hustle took a bright scythe to the field of rotting meh we’re used to seeing in those moments and cut it down. This wasn’t the proverbial “March game in Charlotte,” but it was of that ilk, a night the Knicks often lose, after which we chide ourselves for nearly believing things were actually changing and start checking out mock drafts for who’ll be around at the 10 spot. Randle’s hustle showed he’s not resting on his offensive laurels, he’s not content with settling for .500 and neither is anybody else. Where will is needed, this group’s on their way.

As for the new hardwiring, dig this: after Brunson’s miss and turnover, the Knicks were down two. A lot of Knick guards of the past, even the recent past, would spend the rest of the game deferring to Randle, relegating themselves to a kick-out option or just generally playing in fear, playing not to lose and especially to not be the reason for losing. Brunson followed the turnover by finding Quentin Grimes for three, then followed that by scoring the Knicks’ next (and last) three baskets in crunch time; Brunson scored or assisted on nine of New York’s last 10 points. Cometh the moment, cometh the man.

The last step in breaking an old cycle is the simplest and the most difficult: repeat the breaks until that becomes the new cycle. The Knicks’ next two games present two new opportunities for growth, which are also opportunities to stumble: Friday in Toronto, the team who broke their recent eight-game winning streak in an arena the Knicks haven’t won since maybe Linsanity, followed by a visit from Giannis the 40-20-10 human pogo stick. I don’t know if we know what’s coming in either game. That uncertainty is a helluva better vibe than viewing those games as a couple of Ls. May we all break free of those bonds sooner than never.