“I want to play a show at Madison Square Garden in New York, which is where the New York Knicks play. That’s what I want.”
–William Beckett, lead singer, The Academy
NEW YORK — The New York Knicks’ colors are orange and blue. Their fans’ color, as Wednesday night turned into Thursday morning, was red.
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Red faces. Red hands. And sweat glistening on their faces. It was the same whether they were Black or White, male or female. Red — the blood having leapt north from various regions of bodies in the final, improbable seconds of Knicks 107, San Antonio Spurs 106, and having come to rest in their feral, screaming faces. Like those of the two guys who were still courtside, 20 minutes after OG Anunoby’s game-winning tip-in, screaming “OG, OG, OG,” into their phones, as “Still New York” by MAX and Joey Bada@$$ blasted on the speakers.
They were the foot soldiers of Madison Square Garden, which had, in recent days, been surrounded by barriers outside with bulletproof glass assembled inside. The building went, in a manner of hours, from the “in” place for the Knicks’ most rabid fans to celebrate at watch parties just outside the doors, to a gantlet, separated from many of the team’s regular fans who come to games during the season, and separated by price and by police, local and federal.
MSG, which brought so many together this season, especially during the Knicks’ incredible postseason run, was the epicenter of and victim to massive egos: the team’s owner, James Dolan; the city’s new mayor, Zohran Mamdani, and President Donald Trump, who just had to come to Game 3 Monday, throwing off almost all of the good vibes that had surrounded the Knicks as they throttled the Hawks, 76ers and Cavaliers en route to the finals. Dolan and Mamdani feuded on social media about who was more to blame for the cancellation of a Game 4 watch party at MSG. The crazies had to find other places to craze.
And, for 24 minutes Wednesday, Game 4 felt like a replay of Game 3. The Garden was silenced by the Spurs, who rained 3s on the seemingly hapless Knicks to take a 29-point first-half lead, and a 27-point lead into the half, all but assuring a 2-all tie going back to San Antonio for Game 5 on Saturday. Celebrity Row brought lifeless claps as neither the A- nor D-listers could stir the deflated crowd.
And then came a New York State of Mind.
“What the f—,” Knicks guard Landry Shamet said. “That’s all I’ve got for you. What. The. F—?”
The Knicks’ comeback, unlike any in the history of the finals, was a win for the city, which has waited, as you all must certainly know by now, 53 years for another NBA championship. It was also a win for the team, which has been challenged like never before in this postseason by the young and hungry Spurs. But, most improbably, it was a win for the fans fortunate enough to be wealthy enough to afford the ridiculous get-in prices. Many weren’t the building’s normal fans, but when it mattered most, they were as loud as Vinny from Passaic.
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The building, 58, and used to this by now, held the noise, amplified it, concentrating it on the road team, which was coming unglued in real time.
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“It was loud, especially when we made that run,” Knicks forward Mikal Bridges said. “It was unbelievable.”
When Anunoby saw that Jalen Brunson’s shot was off and knifed between Dylan Harper and Stephon Castle to, somehow, redirect the ball into the basket with his right hand with 1.2 seconds left for the last of his 33 points, the roof didn’t come off. But it was assaulted by a wall of sound, a release, a prayer, a wail of joy that shot from parent to child, uncle to niece, friend to friend, all who have loved and been let down so many times over the last several decades by this team, a shared disappointment across the generations.
It was the same outside the Garden, too.
“What is it they call Messi — Hand of God?” Karl-Anthony Towns asked afterward, before ducking into a still-full club inside the Garden. “That was the hand of God. I think I’m going to get that hand bronzed.”
This Garden, the fourth Madison Square Garden, built in 1968 at 31st to 33rd St. between 7th and 8th Ave., unashamedly and bombastically calls itself “The World’s Most Famous Arena.” It has a case. Muhammad Ali fought Joe Frazier for the first time here, in 1971. Hulk Hogan won the WWF belt here, in 1984. There have been political conventions and events here, some inspirational, others terrifying. Willis Reed limped onto the court here for Game 7 in the 1970 finals, rallying the Knicks and deflating the Lakers.
But this? This?
“I’ve never seen that,” said former NBA star Rip Hamilton on the court as others repeated variations on the same sentence.
What was that? How did that happen?
“I was in the back,” said Raekwon, whose legendary Wu-Tang Clan had the unfortunate assignment of trying to jack up what had become a dead crowd at halftime after having watched their team fall down 76-49. At the end of their set, Method Man said “Knicks in five; what’chall talkin’ bout?” At the time, it felt like a taunt. Perhaps, instead, it was prophecy.
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“I just wanted to take a breather and just kind of evaluate in my own mind what was going on,” Raekwon said. “And all I kept saying was, ‘Let’s drive. Let’s get in the paint. Defense, defense.’ And, yo. They sustained. They did what they needed to do.
“With a little bit of Wu energy. I think it helped a little.”
Apparently, the Clan still ain’t nothin’ to (bleep) wit’.
There was no doubt the Knicks were gonna come back and win when the Clan came out at halftime and smoked it 👐 pic.twitter.com/wRYmFfpLXw
— Wu Tang is for the Children (@WUTangKids) June 11, 2026
As the Knicks slowly started to chip away in the third quarter, the building growled, at first uncertain whether it should give its full-throated support. Then it bubbled, not quite believing what was happening. The Spurs, who shot 60 percent from the floor and 54 percent on 3-pointers in the first half, started missing and kept missing. They kept shooting 3s and kept missing. The Knicks didn’t rally quickly, but they found themselves. The deficit melted like a retiree on GLP-1: 22 points, then 16, 11, 7.
Ray Castoldi, as he has done high above the Garden floor since 1989, kept hitting that G minor to C7 procession, over and over, on his organ. The “Defense” chord.
Maybe there was something bigger involved. As Towns struggled through foul trouble, Joseph-Anthony – Father Joseph-Anthony Kress, Promoter of the Rosary at St. Vincent Ferrer, on Lexington Ave., was rooting from the stands, seemingly in vain, for his Knicks to mount a comeback. Was it blasphemy to ask him if he prayed for a miracle?
“We were in the business, and in the building,” he said.
The Rev. Kress stood next to the Rev. Patrick Briscoe, from St. Joseph’s. Did Briscoe ask for a higher power after Josh Hart, somehow, smoked a breakaway layup that briefly kept the Spurs ahead?
“We’re not Notre Dame,” he said.
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Someone, or something, did intervene in the next few moments, however. Whether it was a higher power, or Anunoby just jumping higher than everyone else, the moment stood still, and then exploded all over the sellout crowd. The Knicks now lead 3-1, and will either come back to this building for Game 6 on Tuesday with a chance to clinch it all, or come back to the city after clinching in San Antonio on Saturday, the town ready for a parade more than five decades in the making.
And the building that has been the site of so much sports heartache over the years was converted into a Garden of Dreams.