You may have noticed something on ESPN last Sunday night. Their "30 For 30" documentary series had returned for the first time in three months. This was a series that had once covered the devastating loss of Len Bias and the beginning of Muhammad Ali's debilitating disease setting in while Larry Holmes wailed away at him.
In other words, this space was generally reserved for very serious, heavy stuff. But within the first five minutes of the new episode, "Winning Time: Reggie Miller vs. the New York Knicks," they were glorifying mere basketball games between the Knicks and Pacers, setting their highlights to pretentious choruses of sopranos.
And well they should be! Nothing in at least the past eight years in the NBA has made me feel as alive again as what was re-lived in that documentary.
Watching Dan Klores' brilliant and passionate documentary on Sunday night made me realize something I, a diehard Knicks fan like Mr. Klores himself, never thought possible. It made me type a line I never thought possible: I miss Reggie Miller.
Hang on for a second. Is that right? Have we gotten to that point of stagnation in today's NBA? Has the Knickerbockers franchise been drowning for that long now?
Well, yes and no. Don't get me wrong, there is as much talent and great, likable, fun-to-watch players in this league as there has ever been. I still love the playoffs every year. Yet is it wrong for me to say that there is not the fire and intensity and hostility over an 82-game schedule and playoffs as there once was?
Also, it's not so much that I miss Reggie per se. I miss the feel and landscape of the Knicks, as well as the game overall back in the mid-'90s when passions burned and fights between heated rivals were pretty much expected to happen in-game, every game. It seemed that in the '90s, every playoff series between the Knicks and Bulls, Knicks and Pacers, or Knicks and Heat came down to a final possession in a pivotal and often seventh game.
And while all three of those rivalries took on lives of their own, no one was more fun to hate than the grotesquely skinny shooting guard with the funny ears who deliberately kicked his leg out while shooting threes to draw cheap fouls. He was a mad scientist cheap shot artist who didn't fight fair. Not only that, he knew it and he loved every minute of it. Hollywood literally (remember Eddie?) couldn't create a better villain for the Knicks than Reggie.
That's not to say the '90s Knicks were choirboys. Most outside the region hated New York like we hated Reggie. They saw the Knicks as thugs who pounded their foes into submission through personal fouls of the unnecessary roughness type. Interestingly enough, Klores' piece shows just as much brawl footage of the Pacers as it did of the Knicks (and not necessarily against one another, either). Perhaps in the mid-'90s world of no-holds-barred defense, most teams simply had a good fight in them from time to time.
Conversely, I don't believe I will ever be so attached to the Knicks franchise as I did when they sported angry flattop Patrick Ewing, fireplug John Starks, and enforcer Charles Oakley, who never met a front row he didn't like. In later years, those around Ewing would be replaced by the silent sniper Allan Houston, a furious attacker of the hoop in Latrell Sprewell, a high-flyer in Marcus Camby, and a past-his-prime wily vet in Larry Johnson (whose Grandmama moniker now seemed appropriate). All these players had one thing in common: no championship rings. They always seemed to be on an epic quest to change that once and for all. And we were along for the ride.
In fairness, it warrants mentioning that the Pacers were also a team of very talented players also yearning maniacally for that one title ring that never came. Naturally, some brawls ensued and some head games were played, particularly at the two-guard position with Reggie and John.
The focus of Klores' piece was mostly on the first few games that made Reggie famous for tormenting the Knicks (why anyone hasn't made a Reggie-Torments-the-Knicks box-set of games for sale on DVD yet is anyone's guess; I can think of at least six games you could include), however, no significant moment from the 1993-95 Knicks/Pacers wars were missed. They did gloss over the epic Game 7 from the '94 Conference Finals awfully quickly, mostly because they made Reggie the main character of the piece rather than the foil. That Game 7 was Patrick Ewing's moment to shine, not Reggie's.
When they got to the '95 series, obviously they rehashed Miller's 8-in-8.9-seconds-heroics and the Knick breakdown of Game 1, en route to Indy going up 3-1 in the series. When they showed Ewing drain the game-winner in Game 5 of this series with their season on the line, I spontaneously pumped my fist twice even as I knew it would happen. It still meant that much to me.
What they did show perhaps too much of was the conclusion of Game 7 of the '95 series, in which Ewing's muffed finger roll at the horn was shown no less than five times (and that's being generous). Suddenly, I realized what a fool I was. I had been looking forward to this show all week. I had been mesmerized, captivated, and plugged in the whole time. Now I was trying to figure out what was wrong with my stomach, even though I knew all along that this play was coming, as well, and had seen clips of it countless times.
What disappointed me next was the fact that Klores covered the first trilogy of Knicks/Pacers so well and barely touched on the second trilogy from 1998-2000, from which many more adventures are to be told that belong there just as much. Quick review of those series:
1998
Indiana was clearly the better team, the Knicks were a seventh seed. Patrick Ewing was rehabbing from a season-long wrist injury, he returned in Game 2, but weakly. Indy won the first two at home and the Knicks prevailed in Ewing's triumphant first home game since the injury, setting up Game 4 as the Knicks aimed to tie the series. In the game's final seconds, the Knicks led by three, and yet a broken play off a missed layup led to, yes, a wide-open Miller for three in the corner. The silent Garden knew the dagger was good before Reggie even lined it up. The Pacers bludgeoned the Knicks in overtime to go up three games to one and would claim the series easily on their home floor in Game 5. Reggie had done it again.
1999
The eight-seed Knicks stunned the heavily-favored Pacers in a close Game 1 in Indiana. Game 2 saw the Pacers get a shaky foul call to get Reggie Miller the two winning free throws with 2 seconds left. Yet Ewing got a gorgeous length-of-the-court pass from Charlie Ward only to see his foul line jumper clank at the horn. Reggie ended his post-game press conference as he saw Ewing coming up to speak next. His final words were "As long as you make the last one, that's all that matters. Right, Pat?" Ewing would be out with a torn Achilles the rest of the series.
Game 3 was the famous (or infamous) Larry Johnson four-point play that defined the series and had Indy fans and players claiming bogus call and conspiracy (maybe they were right, ask Tim Donaghy). Reggie torched the Knicks for 30 in Game 4 to tie the series. L.J. answered in Game 5 with threes on back-to-back possessions to put another game in Indiana out of reach. In Game 6 at the Garden, Allan Houston personally crushed Miller with 32 points to land the improbable eighth-seeded Knicks into the NBA Finals. Reggie had his worst series to date against the Knicks.
2000
With both teams on nearly equal footing this year, home court held serve until Game 6. There Reggie had one last Garden thrill. Just as many thought he was over the hill and could no longer carry a team, Miller stunned the crowd with 34 points, putting the Knicks to bed and giving the Pacers their one and only Finals berth in franchise history. This was the high point of Reggie's career, and Ewing's final game in blue and orange.
And that's just the cliff's notes versions. When all was said and done in this rivalry, the Knicks had won three series and the Pacers had won three series. The Knicks had reached two NBA Finals at Indiana's expense, the Pacers had reached one at New York's expense, with neither team winning any. Perhaps one day I will have to pick up the story where Klores left off.
Knicks fans have been clinging to this hope for several years now that we will win the great LeBron James sweepstakes of 2010 and turn the franchise around over the next few years. Yet even that may not be enough. After the way the '90s turned out for this team, and the way the 2000s distanced themselves from those glory days, it's quite possible that not even King James could ever make me care about any future Knick teams, or basketball in general, the way I did back when Reggie was breaking our hearts.
Leave a Comment