Knicks 143, Grizzlies 106: The three faces of ease
In a battle of thirds, the Knicks came in first
Three point guards. Three sequences. Three representations of today’s New York Knicks, 143-106 winners last night in an alleged interconference showdown between third seeds with the vagabonds who vacated Vancouver.
Late in the fourth, with the Knicks up huge, Deuce McBride cut to the basket and caught a bounce pass as he reached the paint, after which he caught a body in the form of 7-foot-1 Memphis big Jay Huff.
The dunk itself was perfectly satisfactory – zesty, even – but what stood out was McBride’s reaction after. There was none.
He didn’t scream, flex, demonstrate or remonstrate. He acted like he’d been there before. His teammates on the bench did not, which is fair, and even endearing, for when are we ever more truly ourselves than when celebrating those we love? Karl-Anthony Towns acted like he’d just been possessed, while OG Anunoby went down like a modern, monied Icarus. But McBride’s chill suited the temperature of the season so far. The Knicks have been blowing teams out all year. Last night they blew out one ranked top-five in offense and defense. That’s what they do. Why feign surprise when you know you’re that good?
Six minutes prior to Deuce’s rough and tough stuff over Huff, Cam Payne lofted a fake-pass floater off-glass for two. Next time down the floor he hit a crossover scoop lay-up high off the glass. The Knicks stole the inbounds and Anunoby took it strong to the hoop, where he unfortunately ran into both the irresistible object that is WTF officiating and the immovable object that is Zach Edey, the Grizzlies’ 7-foot-4 girthy Goliath who’s so oversized he makes Mitchell Robinson look like Bill Pidto. Unaffected by his assault of OG, Edey jogged up the court never once noticing Deuce standing very stationary around the free-throw line, where the unsuspecting Grizz ran right over him; again, no call. So seconds later, when Payne got the ball 80 feet from the basket and started accelerating toward it, you knew Edey, less accountable than Kyle Rittenhouse, would throw himself into contesting Payne. The two met at the rim, where both got more of what they’d been getting: for Cam, points; for Edey, getting away with yet another non-whistle.
Payne plays with a hubris, a footloose and fancy freeness usually seen in feral cats. These Knicks do as a whole, something not seen ‘round these parts since 1995. Oh, there’ve been individuals who shared Payne’s joie de vivre – Carmelo Anthony comes to mind; so too Jamal Crawford. But Payne reflects a vibe both shared and earned across the roster, something that speaks to this team’s confidence in a way their quotes and press conferences likely never will, at least until they win something. No one on this squad has played for a title-winner (Anunoby was a Raptor the year they won, but he missed that whole postseason), but many Knicks have come close – Payne and Mikal Bridges played for Phoenix when they reached the 2021 Finals; KAT and Jalen Brunson played integral roles in Minnesota and Dallas reaching conference finals in recent years. These Knicks know they’re that good, even if they don’t have a shared history to prove it. That’s how some teams break through. They don’t ask. They just know when it’s time. Nights like last suggest this could be theirs.
There’s a word, a Freudian term, nachtraglichkeit. It basically means “afterwardsness,” where you retroactively recognize the significance of an event only after it’s passed. There are people who will argue last night’s win was the Knicks’ biggest of the year, biggest since Game 5 vs. Indiana last spring. They’ll call last night a statement win, the kind of performance that confirms what everyone wants to point to as established fact: that these Knicks are nearing true contention. I say they’re already there. I think Freud, would, too. Because of the third point guard.
For all his perspiration and perspicacity and all our love of puns, Josh Hart is not the heart of this team. Brunson is. The Knicks have more goodness/greatness on this year’s team than I’ve seen since the Pat Riley years. Towns is a top-10 MVP candidate. OG and Bridges have played like All-Stars for stretches, while Hart’s showing the basketball world a John Starks/Anthony Mason/Dennis Rodman hybrid is deserving of honors and awards as well. But if Brunson were Chris Duhon, even Raymond Felton, none of all that good and great would rate. A bookend of eight-second sequences shows what I’m getting at.
With just under four minutes left in the third, Brunson got the ball on the wing behind the arc in front of celebrity row, guarded by Ja Morant. For eight seconds he held the ball. Didn’t dribble it once. Didn’t ask for a screen, didn’t get one or reject one. Just held his ground, did some dekes with his footwork to get Morant shuffling juuuuuust enough to open up a clean look for a three. Swish. That capped a 13-0 Knick run. The Grizzlies then finally did score, after which Brunson calmly took the inbounds, took eight seconds to dribble up the floor and recognize GG Jackson was either unable or unwilling to offer any kind of defense, took a three and took the lead back up to 27. After all the Towns talk and OG love and Bridges brilliance and Hart – the basketball equivalent of the guy who can get you a toe at 3 in the morning if you need one – Brunson is the electric bill. So long as he’s paid, the lights stay on.
The Knicks were terrific last night. The West continues to throw its children at Tom Thibodeau’s mouth of Saturn: ahead of home games with the Lakers and Rockets, the Knicks next face the Nuggets tomorrow. Stay hungry, boys.
