The parade was endless, and after a while more than a little comical. Latrell Sprewell, who once upon a time dunked a basketball in a Minnesota Timberwolves uniform, landed, sought out the owner of the Knicks and offered this greeting — “BLEEEEEEEEP YOOOOOU!!!!!” — was introduced, lauded, cheered.
Larry Johnson was there, and Gerald Wilkins, and Kenny (Sky) Walker. Herb Williams was there, of course, because it seems like Herb has been on the Garden floor since before there first was a 3-point line on there. Bernard King was there, and Dollar Bill Bradley, and they visited the Knicks in the locker room.
Hell, even David Lee was there, though he was going to be there anyway, wearing a San Antonio Spurs uniform.
There was a message in all of this, sure, a memorandum from all of these alums that it still matters to them to be associated with the Knicks, even at a time when the Ebola virus has a better public perception. Some of them are paid to be here. Some come just to hear the walls rattle in their honor one more time. All of them have seen varying degrees of better days here.
“It’s always love,” Derrick Rose would say. “You pay homage to them because you know they paved the way for you.”
Were they here for their benefactor, James Dolan? Were they here to reinforce in Knicks fans the notion that it’s still OK to be a Knicks fan — something that was certainly easier to sell after the Knicks stunned the Spurs at the Garden, 94-90, a score that read like a typo crawling across the bottoms of television screens all night all around the country?
Was it a little of both?
“We always believe we’re capable of this,” Knicks coach Jeff Hornacek said of this out-of-nowhere victory that salvaged the final game of a five-game homestand, one game left before the All-Star break. “The question is: Do we trust each other? Tonight, they did.”
It’s curious that Hornacek would use trust as the subject of choice in the wake of this stunner, because we have talked a lot the past few days about the Knicks as a public trust that has lost its way, the Knicks as a shared civic treasure that has slumped red-faced and embarrassed in the public square all week.
There is the still-unresolved Phil Jackson/Carmelo Anthony stalemate, one that feels a little muted thanks in part to the craziness that took the week hostage starting on Wednesday and the fact that it was Anthony’s 25-point, seven-rebound performance that delivered this most satisfying victory of the season.
“They worked hard,” Spurs coach Gregg Popovich said of the Knicks. “They’re tired of hearing it, they’re tired of losing. They went out and played a hell of a game.”
And, of course, there was the thousand-pound elephant in the room, a subject that continues to be on the tips of the tongues of Knicks fans of just about every generation. Spike Lee isn’t a former player but he is a high-profile fan whose passions have spanned decades. Back in the day he used to wear John Starks’ 3, later traded that in for Sprewell’s No. 8.
Sunday, not surprisingly, he wore Oakley’s old No. 34, a number that will never sit in the rafters — certainly not now — but in many ways this week was unofficially retired by fans who may not have liked seeing Oakley involved in a shoving match with a security man, but surely appreciated the memory of what he — what the Knicks — used to stand for. Used to be.
That was on display Sunday, too. Look, the Spurs played with indifference most of the day, they got six points from their starting backcourt, and that certainly helped. Still, at the end, the Garden really was alive again. Spike was imitating Willy Hernangomez’s up-and-under reverse move. The faithful even showered Anthony with love at the end, when he put the game away for good with a 10-footer.
A few days ago, in between expressing his concern for Oakley’s anger and drinking and barring him from the premises, James Dolan had said, “I hope the entire organization pulls it together and salvages something out of this. I don’t think I’m any different than the fans. The record now doesn’t feel good. But there’s still time.”
Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t. Maybe this was a one-day outlier; the smart money is on that. Maybe this week really has quashed the final embers of passion from your basketball soul. If so, who could blame you? Except even, with all of that, the Knicks can give you a day like they gave you Sunday. After all of it, the noise and the clamor can still make a cold, rainy day something to savor. Still.