As Bridges went, so did the Knicks. In the final three games against the Hawks and in sweeps of the Philadelphia 76ers and the Cleveland Cavaliers, he made three-quarters of his two-point shots and nearly half his threes. What’s struck me most during the Finals, though, isn’t just his smoothness but his selflessness. He’s been doing what the situation asks of him.
In 2014, the Spurs won the championship by winging the ball from player to player, keeping it always a few inches ahead of the Miami Heat’s quick, aggressive defense. The ball moved at a blur. The players rotated quickly, setting flurries of picks and cutting, creating space by driving to the basket, stretching the defense to the point of breaking, and then flinging the ball to the open man in the corner. Basketball nirvana. My mind drifted back to those games when I saw the Knicks in Game Two drive and kick the ball out, drive and kick the ball out, over and over, passing it from player to player—each a threat to drive and also shoot from beyond the arc—until Bridges hit a three as the shot clock expired. And again when Towns drove to the basket and leaped, with four Spurs defenders collapsing on him, then threaded the ball through the Spurs’ defenders to Bridges in the corner for the open shot. And then again in the third quarter, while Brunson was struggling—he missed eighteen of his twenty-five shots that night—and Towns had to head to the bench with four fouls. With the Knicks’ lead dwindling, and Wembanyama playing with new urgency, Bridges found himself on the floor with a bunch of bench players. It was the type of situation that Thibodeau, who demanded maximal effort and minutes from his starters, had done everything in his power to avoid. But Miles (Deuce) McBride stepped up and scored, and Bridges hit two straight shots and then found Robinson at the rim for a gorgeous, wheeling alley-oop. It was modern free-flowing basketball at its finest, reminiscent of not only the Spurs in the early twenty-tens but the Golden State Warriors (where Mike Brown had been an assistant) and even the Pacers last season, when they wore opponents out during the playoffs with their rotations and their speed. The Knicks’ lead surged to eleven.
Bridges led both teams in minutes, and has proved himself to be every bit the iron man that Thibodeau revered. But the secret to the Knicks’ success during these playoffs has been the players’ ability to adjust, to step up and in for one another, and to rely on more than Brunson’s heroics. They can’t seem to lose because Towns has been the best player on the floor with Wembanyama, because Brunson owns fourth quarters, and because role players are making winning plays. Every rotation player has something to contribute, and right now they’re in the flow. In Game One, Hart was the hero in everything but the box score. In Game Two, a night when Hart faltered, the lift came from Bridges.
But why end there? Credit should ping from player to player as quickly as the ball does. The story of Game Two should also feature Jose Alvarado, who scored all of two points and played only ten minutes but seemed to discombobulate the Spurs with his fearlessness and his speed. And don’t forget OG Anunoby, the Knicks’ diesel engine on both ends of the floor, or Mitchell Robinson, who bullied Wembanyama into an existential crisis during San Antonio’s final two possessions. There should be a section on Landry Shamet, who started the season without a guaranteed contract. Now he can’t miss. In Game Two, he came off the bench and hit several critical three-pointers, including two in the fourth quarter, and the Knicks outscored the Spurs by nine points in the thirty minutes he was on the floor. (I’m pretty sure that Vinson Cunningham, the magazine’s Knicks-obsessed television critic, is ready to guarantee Shamet’s contract, personally, in perpetuity—paid for in pizza slices and lyricism.)
Now the Knicks have won thirteen straight, and are two wins away from their first N.B.A. title since Richard Nixon was President. It’s not over yet. But no team has ever come back from losing Games One and Two at home. The Knicks are rested. They have more experience. They have electrified an electric city. And they are winning even when Brunson is struggling to score. The Spurs have the biggest basketball star on the planet right now and a core of astonishingly poised and athletic young players. They can play better. But the thing is, the Knicks can play even better, too. ♦
