It’s been nearly 60 years since the New York Knicks have won an NBA championship. In 1970, they hoisted their trophy for what seemed like the first of many to come.
They won again in 1973, and it’s been crickets since.
New York City, for all its pomp and circumstance, full of a diverse array of people, culture, and soul, and its gravitation towards the game of basketball, has seen little to no success in the sport in its recent history. Since the turn of the century alone, the New York Knicks have qualified for the playoffs on a grand total of seven occasions after a storied– yet intangibly unsuccessful –run in the 1980s and 1990s. Just seven times were the passionate, loyal, and senseless Knick fans allowed to smell playoff prosperity before being shellacked by the teams in the upper echelon.
From time to time (which basically means every season), I question why I’m even a fan of this forsaken team. My dad started following them in the early 90s because he would work in the city five days a week. He was attracted to the buzz of New York after every big win and quickly became a die hard supporter. Despite their lack of championship success, they were a hard-nosed, gritty, and laborious team that every New Yorker gravitated towards. Me, being my dad’s son, I inherited his fandom.
Since I’ve started rooting for them in the 2014 season, what have they brought me? Shame, disgust, disappointment, and absolute darkness at the end of the tunnel. There are some days where I wish I never became a Knick fan in the first place. I vividly recall watching games in 2019 and telling myself, “this is the worst basketball team I’ve ever seen.” I watched them purposefully lose games to garner a high draft selection, only for their prized pick to tear their ACL soon after. I remember them kicking Knicks great Charles Oakley and superfan Spike Lee out of Madison Square Garden for no reason, much to the anger of nearly all their supporters. I could go on and on.
If there’s one word to describe my tenure as a Knicks’ fan, it would be pain. Just utter and absolute pain. Every season comes with zero expectations with this team, and you know what they say: “you can’t be disappointed if you have no expectations.” Well I’ll be damned, I’m disappointed every season regardless. After small wins, I’ll start feeling good about the team. Then it quickly craters after they get blown out by 40 points against the Charlotte Hornets of all teams.
Despite everything I’ve said, I feel really good about this season and this current New York Knicks squad. The date is March 30th, 2023. In a few weeks’ time, the Knicks will be back in the playoffs, hungry and poised to make some noise in the league. These are the moments a fan like me is waiting for. I’ve reserved the idea that the Knicks will win a championship in my lifetime. At this point, any type of excitement and winning is more than enough to satiate my playoff cravings. My expectations can’t go any lower and my investment should, yet there’s something about the bright lights in MSG, the rocking ‘DEFENSE’ chants, and the status of New York that I just can’t renounce. It’s a parasite, a mole, a leech that takes but never gives. Yet, I can’t give up on my dad’s team. I’m hoping they can give this time around, but it’s the hope that kills you.