Jalen Brunson saved the Knicks and sank the Mavericks in free agency for the ages

The Knicks are in the playoffs for what is only the sixth time in 20 years, a historic dryspell for the 70-year-old franchise, who plays in an arena commonly referred to as the Mecca, in a city both obsessed with basketball and with this team. Whatever happens against a young and very talented Cleveland Cavalier team they are widely predicted to lose to, this season was a win. Because Tom Thibodeau at long last shed some career-long bad habits, (perhaps in an act of desperation to save his career) because the team’s young core matured and clicked, and in one notable case, a star was born, but largely, because the Knicks finally ended one of the most bizarre, inexplicable droughts in the history of professional sports.

With their brilliant free agent acquisition of former Dallas Mavericks point guard Jalen Brunson, the Knicks ended what was somewhere between a 15-25ish year drought without a competent point guard in his prime. I’ve written on the subject extensively, and my largest and loudest apology is owed to the great Coney Island legend Stephon Marbury, but depending on how you view his embattled tenure in New York under the Thomas administration, the last truly great and successful Knicks point guard was Derek Harper, who was with the team from 1994-1996.

It is bizarre because positional needs for a team in any sport aren’t supposed to stretch for generations. The Suns haven’t been looking for a small forward since George W. Bush was in office. The last time the Heat had a good shooting guard didn’t coincide with a Ja Rule No. 1 Top-40 hit. Go further afield and in baseball, the Pirates haven’t had a hole at catcher since “Gastro Pubs” were in. The only potential comparison, is tragically, the gaping hole my hated/beloved Jets have had at quarterback since, arguably, the glory days of Vinny Testeverde. But even that comp sucks, because great quarterbacks are arguably the hardest position to fill in all of sports. Throughout the 21st century, the NBA has been a point guard rich league, with several backups on several teams the fanbase would’ve killed for. And yet it was only now, in the season of our lord 2022-2023, that our prayers were answered. I don’t know about you, but I’ll never forget that introductory press conference:

But that’s slightly revisionist history. There was some hand wringing amongst the Knicks faithful and commentariat on whether or not Brunson was worth the commitment of both years and money that the franchise was making to him. That his own team had definitely at least waited, and was potentially unwilling, depending on who you listen to, to commit to him themselves. When the proverbial keys to the Knicks car were handed to super-agent Leon Rose and World Wide Wes, Knicks fans were led to believe this meant we’d finally seriously be in the running for glamorous franchise type of guys. The ensuing years of bean counting, level-headed, conservative decision-making, and general stolid competence was at first a bewildering and increasingly comforting disruption of expectations, following the erratic tenure of Phil Jackson. It’s been a throwback to the tonal dissonance Knicks fans experienced transitioning from the chaos of Isiaiah Thomas to Donnie Walsh.

Why did Brunson leave? Well, first, who cares? Despite Mark Cuban’s impassioned protestations and desperate attempts to pass the buck as the franchise looks increasingly desperate and stupid, Brunson is a Knick now and presumably forever, but why not have fun and speculate. The narrative, put forward by Brunson’s camp, and you would imagine the Knicks to avoid impropriety, is the Mavericks simply blew it by not offering him an extension at any of several potential points last season before powered the Mavericks past the Jazz without Luka in a miraculous first round victory, proving his value once and for all. But I like to think on some level it was an act of shrugging off the shroud of Luka, his ball dominance and his general spoiled brat vibe. That Jalen Brunson, the No. 33 overall pick taken in the second round of the 2018 Draft, had the courage and conviction to bet on himself, and his legacy, and bring greatness back to the Garden.

Brunson is a fascinating point guard to generate a reasonable comp for. He’s more of a combo guard, because his strength is scoring. His six assists per game could suggest otherwise, but his playmaking is more a byproduct of the pressure he puts on the opposing defense rather than an innate gift for seeing passing lanes no one else sees. And as for that pressure, I understand him as a kind of antithesis, an exact and perfect opposite of his teammate RJ Barrett. Brunson was not blessed with Barrett’s elite athleticism, his strength and speed. As a penetrator, RJ is a hot knife cleaving butter. Brunson is a cartoon saw, his effort labored and halting as jagged teeth bite into hardwood, dependent on close contact and pressure, he thrives off arrhythmic unpredictability, which lead him to odd spots in the floor, holes in the defense he finds, seemingly with sonar, pulling up when you think he’s about to pass or keep his dribble, getting his man off his feet with a hesi that you think is going to be a shot. And unlike RJ and his accursed cast iron hands, Brunson has been gifted with godlike touch, finishing off all the strange angles and sudden pull ups he gets a glimpse at with an array of odd alligator armed push shots, off balance floaters and baby jumpers. My best attempt to characterize his game would be an unholy splice of Mark Jackson and face-up/midrange, shoot-first mode Chris Paul.

Brunson is more than a savvy acquisition Leon and Wes bought at or perhaps a touch above market that now appears to be an incredible steal and quite possibly the greatest free agent Knick signing ever. He’s an egg white raft in the Knicks consomme, he’s clarified the impurities and put his fingerprints on every facet of the team, an organizing principle who dictates how they play, of who they are, of what roles each teammate is expected to perform and how to go about doing it. Like Leon and Wes, he’s a sure hand on the franchise wheel. Thibs seems more at peace with his roster, each young player is both more patient and self assured.

His real accomplishment and miracle work has been “solving” Julius Randle, who has served as a hero and tormentor for the franchise, a Mayor of Halloween Town figure impossible to read or gauge from night to night. He has been provided context and guidance by Brunson, suddenly pliable and devastating as a hammerhead rather than a handle. Like Carmelo Anthony before him, his sludgy, rote, boring game that is dependent on whether his end of the shot clock contested fall aways drop, has been rendered one of the more effective utility scorers in the league with proper guidance, a testament to the sheer G-force of a true conductor.

And then, of course, there was the Brunson motivated acquisition of his fellow Villanova NCAA champion and hetero life mate Josh Hart, who wound up serving as the key missing ingredient, the Gorilla Glue, the Swiss Army Knife with a prong for every problem. Who could forget that now iconic video when Brunson first discovered Hart would become a Knick?

But alas, arguably the greatest Knick regular season of this century is over, and a very difficult first round matchup looms. Unsurprisingly, the key will be Jalen Brunson. What I thought a few weeks ago was the series would be decided in the front court, a battle of attrition, as twin towers Jarrett Allen and Evan Mobley use brute force to fight Mitchell Robinson and Julius Randle for a knife in the mud. But what became apparent in Brunson’s signature game of the season two weeks ago, a 48-point nine-assist masterpiece against Cleveland, in Cleveland without Randle, is that the undersized backcourt the Cavs are beholden to appears to be what will decide the outcome. Here’s some game tape I put together on a teleprompter that hyper specifically breaks down exactly what Brunson was able to do so successfully in that game:

To win, the Knicks will have to hunt and bully the twin 6’1 guards, and while Quentin Grimes and Immanuel Quickley will have to play a role in that locker stuffing and pocket running effort, you can guess who will have to do the lionshare of the bullying for the Knicks to gain the decisive advantage. If the Cavs are smart, they will force the ball out of Jalen’s hands and let the offense run through Randle, single him with Evan Mobley and give him enough rope to hang himself, as the Hawks did two years ago. If the Cavs accomplish this, they’ll arguably be the first team in years that has found a way to neutralize the incredible, insufferable Jalen Brunson.

This week in New York, there is an electric current on the air. For at least the next few days, the *7,999,988 Knicks fans of New York (*minus a dozen Nets fans) have been brought together by a team, and by a player, who has given the franchise something it’s been missing since skaters were beating down marks in Washington Square Park, since porn played in Times Square, since the Jets had a Quarterback. Whether they win or lose this series, thanks to Jalen Brunson, the Knicks at long last have an elite Point Guard, and a coherent future, and hope.