Knicks 118, Celtics 109: The limit does not exist
They came. They saw. They bossed the Big Boss.
Late in the third quarter of last night’s Knick/Celtic tilt, New York went up 30, and I saw the face of God.
For what is God, if not one measure of ourselves through time? The divine moves in mysterious ways; Tom Thibodeau playing ultra-small and ultra-big lineups we’ve never seen before is no less evidence of wisdom over time than a deity growing from “an eye for an eye” to “turn the other cheek.”
Even as Boston cut the lead down to nine late in the fourth, even with Jalen Brunson just a point away from becoming only the third Knick ever with three straight games of 40+ points – Brunson got more records this year than the FBI – Thibs ignored the siren call and kept JB and Josh Hart (16/16/5) safely on the bench. He did leave Donte DiVincenzo and Isaiah Hartenstein out for much of garbage time while six Knicks took DNPs, yes, but growth not only measures where we are, but where we came from. Three years ago Thibs couldn’t quit Elfrid Payton; the year after that, he crammed Alec Burks into a point guard-shaped hole. You’ve come a long way, baby.
Scholars have disagreed for literally millennia about what Adam and Eve learned when they ate from the tree of knowledge, the forbidden fruit. There can be no greater truth than this: the Knicks are now 18-3 when OG Anunoby plays. That’s not a bite-sized sample; that’s most of the apple. Last night the Big Apple got its first chance to see him in blue and orange against the green and white. Turning water into wine was a miracle. Turns out turning the Knicks – 0-4 against the Cs before last night – into an outfit that could not only stump the frontrunners but thump them meant turning RJ into OG. Do you miss Barrett in New York? Bet Jayson Tatum and Jaylen Brown do.
“Blessed are they that mourn,” Jesus said in the Beatitudes, “for they shall be comforted.” If that’s true, then Celtic coach Joe Mazzulla must have slept as soundly as the dead, for that cat was in obvious mourning postgame, specifically the denial stage. Mazzulla dismissed last night’s L meaning anything, saying the Celtics simply fell victim to a “highly, highly desperate” Knick team – the implication being with Boston having clinched homecourt throughout the playoffs a while ago, there’s nothing for them to play for until game 83, whereas the Knicks need to win every single night.
Another beatitude banger is: “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.” Let me fill thee with righteous truth: Mazzulla’s comments were him putting lipstick on a pig. And we get it – it’s never easy fighting as the heavy. When you win, you were supposed to; if you lose, it’s breaking news. But when the Knicks were up 21 at the half, all five Celtic starters had played at least 17 minutes, and four of the five played all but 45 seconds of the third quarter.
After last night’s win, the Knicks are third in the East, two games ahead of Orlando and essentially two ahead of Cleveland because they own the tiebreaker; the Knicks control their own destiny to clinch the 3-spot. If they’d lost last night? They’d still be ahead of Orlando and Cleveland, still in sole control over where they finish in the standings. Last night wasn’t a must-win for New York – not by external standards. There’s a culture that’s formed here the past four years, though. An ethos. They take it one day at a time. That’s how you build pyramids, empires and legit NBA title contenders.
Later in the book of Matthew, a few chapters after the Beatitudes, we get this little nugget: “The last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen.” What better way to get into talking about Brunson? I don’t know if Matthew was thinking about JB back when he wrote his book, but this Matthew def is. And I want to be clear and fair here. It’s not easy writing about Brunson sometimes; if a doctoral student studied all my 2023-24 recaps, they’d notice fewer words devoted to Brunson than one might expect, given his stature as the Knicks’ best player.
Brunson stopped making sense to me a long time ago. A loooong time ago. I am basically Saul of Damascus when it comes to Brunson: a cynic who becomes a convert and eventually a champion of their champion. When all the Brunson-to-the-Knicks rumors began circulating in 2022, I was indifferent. Figured he’d be an upgrade at the point, sure, a Raymond Felton-level impact, but not a needle-mover. Turns out Brunson’s tectonic.
Earthquakes don’t move needles. They move mountains. And they do it with none of the hype that accompanies other forces of nature. Hurricanes, tornadoes, eclipses: all forecast, anticipated. The Knicks have had a few forces of nature at MSG since the championship days. Bernard King was a top-10 pick who averaged 24 points as a rookie; acquiring him cost the Knicks a three-time All-Star. We knew what King could do before he got here. Patrick Ewing may have been the most hyped rookie since . . . Kareem? Magic and Larry? Landing Carmelo Anthony cost literally more than half the team.
Earthquakes seemingly come outta nowhere, though they’re building strength for years before it’s obvious. Brunson was a second-round pick; Dallas basically dared him to find a better deal than the middling money he first asked for. Someone recently wrote that Brunson is if Linsanity, instead of being a weeks-long fever dream, were a years-long reality. There’s something to that. It was quickly evident Lin’s magic wasn’t just some parlor trick; it allowed you to stretch your imagination as far as you liked, even abandon it altogether. For a few weeks, anyway. While the world treats Brunson and his Knicks as something to underrate, they continue to obliterate – the opposition and the idea that there’s any limit to what they can be this year.
