Jalen Brunson, incredible again in a Knicks win. Don’t let yourself get jaded.

The winter solstice: where reason fails and faith finds its reward. The night may not be darkest just before the dawn, but it’s certainly longest then. No surprise that our favorite stories this time of year – Hanukkah; Christmas; Rudolph; Elf – all center on miracles. Hold firm to your faith, we hear over and over, and ye shall be redeemed. Bah, I say! Humbug!

Most of the time you only have enough oil for one night, it doesn’t last eight. Unlike Christ, most of the males two years and younger targeted for death by Herod’s order were killed. Usually when some young freak is bullied the way Rudolph was, they’re more likely to be lacking serotonin than lionized in song. And good luck ever getting Bob Newhart, James Caan and Will Ferrell in the same movie again. The true takeaway from all this solstice schtick is this: enjoy what you got when you got it.  

Therein lies the takeaway from the Knicks’ 129-122 yuletide yoking of the Milwaukee Bucks, specifically, the takeaway from Jalen Brunson’s sterling play. A cyclone of nonsense has swirled around the de facto All-Star of late, most recently a mantra of middling minds maintaining Brunson’s height – his lack thereof, specifically – marks him incapable of ever leading the Knicks to the promised land. Honestly. As if anyone remembers how tall Moses was.

39 years ago today, Bernard King scored 60 points for the Knicks in a Christmas Day loss. Five months later, in the playoffs, King single-handedly led the Knicks past the Pistons and their god-level star, Isiah Thomas, then nearly did the same to Larry Bird and the eventual champion Celtics. Your response to that long ago Christmas loss could have been to poo-poo King’s points as pointless, since they didn’t lead to a win. Your response to losing in the second round could have been to see the glass as half-empty, that even with King playing out of his mind, the Knicks lost. Consider my glass sloshy and full from highlights of Bernard’s best-of.

Less than a year after King’s postseason coronation, with the world at his feet, that world turned upside down when he destroyed his knee in Kansas City. Just like that, so many futures so many assumed would be there, ripe for the picking, just up and vanished like a fart in the wind. 

In May of 1997, Patrick Ewing’s Knicks were up 3-1 on Miami and on the verge of bringing their strongest team ever against the Jordan Bulls; it would’ve been the Knicks third conference final in five seasons. Six months after the insult of losing the series to the Heat came a career-altering injury to Ewing’s wrist. In 2013 Carmelo Anthony rose up to throw down on Roy Hibbert late in a Game 6 the Knicks needed to win, and were winning. If they’d won, maybe they win Game 7 at home, get a shot at the Finals against a LeBron Heat team they handled that season. Instead, 10 years later Melo’s handing out oversized charity checks at the Garden. 

Which was obviously a wonderful and moving gesture. Still, can you imagine Ewing doing that? Or Walt Frazier? Or, were he still with us, the Captain? No single word creates a wider chasm of meaning as the “almost” distinguishing “what almost was” from “what was.”

Which takes us to Brunson.

We could talk about another Herculean effort from a hero who’s shown fewer ceilings than Olympus. We could tsk, tsk and tilt our heads knowingly at one another: “It’s no good needing one player to be that good that much of the time!” Or we might mind our better angels, the ones who instead insist, “He scored 38 in the win; that’s barely more than the 36 he’s averaged over four games against the Bucks. They can’t stop him! That’s where it starts!” Same as King and the Celtics 40 years earlier: if there’s a fire they can’t put out, there’s a chance that fire can fan out. But with all due respect . . . I’m passing on any view that pans out too far at this point. 

People always say to put down those rose-colored glasses. I say wear ‘em. If you can get rose-tinted Lasik surgery, even better. Brunson’s play was commendable in and of itself, for its efficiency, its variety and its impact. Beyond that, it’s simply beautiful to watch in action. Like the insides of an exquisitely made watch.

Take a look at the shot profile Giannis Antetokounmpo put up in this one. Look at his makes. They’re more concentrated than American wealth.

Next we have Damian Lillard’s. Reminiscent of vintage James Harden, or Randle last season: everything in the high-efficiency neighborhoods beyond the arc or in the paint, mostly avoiding the midrange.

Even Khris Middleton, an elite midrange scorer, shows some segregation in his shot chart. About two-thirds of his makes come outside the lane.

Randle’s profile looks a lot like Antetokounmpo’s. As far as offense, it’s really been remarkable seeing Randle’s different approaches to efficiency since Tom Thibodeau arrived. “In my father’s house are many mansions.” But from a god’s-eye view, this year Randle has branched out by narrowing down his looks.

Now look at Brunson’s.

This is fine art. Brunson with the ball in his hands is jazz incarnate. You think that G-7 chord’s resolving to C major? Jalen’s gonna juke into a dominant 7th and put a little English at the end, just an augmented sixth to remind you what it’s like to feel alive.

Sounds like he’s about to go off on a solo riff? Nope. Like Mozart using an oboe to seamlessly segue to a clarinet, Brunson sets up Isaiah Hartenstein for the easy two.

My brothers and sisters in Jalen, I beg you: do not waste the precious gift of life sweating what nudniks and bad-faith actors think or say about the things that bring you belonging, purpose and transcendence. We’ve watched this man for more than a year now. The Knicks have room to improve in several areas of the roster. Despite the loss, the Bucks are a clearly superior team to the Knicks – to most of the league, really. But again: enjoy what you know you have. The Knicks have something fairly unique – not only with respect to the rest of the NBA, but in their franchise history.

The Knicks are the rare team at the moment who are led by a star who’s yet to be bested – by a scheme, an opponent or a team. Brunson’s teams have been knocked out of the playoffs with him active, but taking last season as an example, the Knicks didn’t lose to the Heat because Miami figured out how to stop Brunson. Their team beat New York’s, but they and Cleveland never had an answer for him. This season, he’s scorched Milwaukee time and again. Phoenix twice. Boston.    

Sometimes players hit the next level and the level hits back harder. It happened to Randle three years ago against the Hawks. It happens to Harden and Joel Embiid every playoff. It happened to Ewing against Jordan and Hakeem Olajuwon. For what it’s worth, to this point it hasn’t happened to Brunson. It didn’t happen to King back in ‘84. Some players are built to last the entire journey, even if the rest of the roster isn’t. When you have one on your side, just enjoy him. Let yourself revel in this player, this performance, this win. That miracle you keep hoping will happen someday? He’s already here.