The Knicks' Championship Win: A Journey of Passion and Belonging

New York Knicks players celebrate receiving the Larry O’Brien Championship Trophy after defeating the San Antonio Spurs 94-90 in Game 5 of the NBA Finals at Frost Bank Center in San Antonio on Saturday, June 13, 2026.

New York Knicks players run onto the court after defeating the San Antonio Spurs in Game 5 of the NBA Finals at Frost Bank Center in San Antonio on Saturday, June 13, 2026, with the New York Knicks defeating the Spurs 94-90.

New York Knicks guard Jalen Brunson (11) gets around San Antonio Spurs center Victor Wembanyama (1) during the fourth quarter of Game 5 of the NBA Championship at Frost Bank Center on Saturday, June 13, 2026.

I’m walking into the Frost Bank Center on Saturday night in San Antonio to watch my beloved New York Knicks in Game 5 of the NBA Finals, with my brother Aidan by my side. He’s wearing his Jalen Brunson jersey, while I’m wearing a Latrell Sprewell jersey and Patrick Ewing sneakers, a sartorial homage to two of my favorite players from the 1999 Knicks. That squad was the last team to make it this far before losing to the Spurs with a whimper in a 4-1 series.

This time, in a delicious twist of cosmic hoops fate, the Knicks are the ones on the verge of vanquishing the Spurs. Here in enemy territory, I’m surrounded by blue-and-orange-clad Knicks faithful all vibing on the same frequency: a taut anticipation that this team could conclude a feverish, transcendental playoff run with their first championship in 53 years.

This is where we win the championship, I say to my brother as we watch Jalen Brunson levitate to an astral plane, juliennning Victor Wembanyama with a devilish combo of jab-steps and pivots, scooping a layup beyond his outstretched hand. We yelp in delirium as backup center Mitchell Robinson secures an offensive rebound in the final minute of the game to give the Knicks a titanic extra possession. We hold our breaths as Josh Hart, Mikal Bridges, and OG Anunoby each hit and miss crucial free throws with the game hanging in the balance.

And when Wembanyama's final, desperate three-point attempt clanks off the rim into Anunoby's hands, we experience what I can only describe as basketball nirvana. I bury my head in Aidan's arms. I call my wife and cry. We rush down to the floor and watch Brunson – the King of New York after a 45-point masterpiece – lift up the championship trophy.

We were halfway across the country from New York, but in the haze of a championship celebration, nobody could tell the difference. We sing “We Are The Champions” with our Knicks brethren in the concourse. We linger outside the arena hugging every stranger in blue and orange we can find. A fedora-wearing man from Long Island with an old-timey camera, who looks like he time-traveled from the last Knicks championship in 1973, snaps a black-and-white polaroid of us.

As the shutterbug’s flashbulb flickers, I think one more time about my hat. The catharsis of this moment is that none of my absurd superstitions mattered anymore. But what if it did matter? Maybe the hat had bad luck and I was supposed to lose it. Maybe I'm not cured from my illusions of controlling the uncontrollable. Maybe I don’t ever want to be. My therapist texts me congratulations. This is the entire bucket list. I lived to see a Knicks championship.

Nick Powell is an editorial writer for the Houston Chronicle. He previously worked as the Chronicle's Gulf Coast reporter, leading the way on stories as varied as the Santa Fe High School shooting, the global race for a COVID-19 vaccine, and Galveston’s long delay in rebuilding public housing after Hurricane Ike. Before joining the Chronicle, Nick worked as an opinion writer and editor at City & State NY.