When Your Point Guard Has to Be the Star, You’re Not Winning Titles

 

Last night at Madison Square Garden, the Knicks didn’t just lose to the Sixers. They were told something uncomfortable.

The Philadelphia 76ers walked into New York and beat the New York Knicks 130–119, and they did it by reminding everyone what championship-level hierarchy looks like. Star power on top. Structure underneath. No confusion about who drives the bus.

Tyrese Maxey—yes, that Tyrese Maxey—lit the Garden up for 36 points, splashing six threes, flying around like he had someplace better to be than letting the Knicks hang around. Joel Embiid didn’t even need to dominate to dominate: 26 points, 10 rebounds, 5 assists, and the kind of calm control that says, we know how this ends.

Now let’s talk about the Knicks, because that’s where the problem lives.

Jalen Brunson scored 31 points. And that’s exactly the issue.

I like Brunson. Everyone likes Brunson. He’s tough, skilled, fearless, and reliable. But as long as your point guard is your leading scorer, I don’t see how you win a championship. Not in this league. Not against teams that roll out MVPs and matchup nightmares.

Championship teams don’t ask their point guard to be the bailout plan every night. They don’t ask him to shoulder the scoring load and organize the offense and rescue possessions late in the clock. That’s not balance—that’s dependency.

The Knicks are 23–12, and that record is real. This isn’t a bad team. But last night showed the ceiling. When the lights get bright and the opponent has elite talent at the top, the Knicks don’t have enough answers that don’t start with Brunson dribbling into traffic.

Meanwhile, the Sixers improve to 19–14 and look like a team that understands roles. Maxey attacks. Embiid anchors. Everyone else fills the gaps. Simple. Ruthless. Effective.

Madison Square Garden demands more than effort. It demands stars who tilt the floor. Until the Knicks find another scorer who scares defenses the way Brunson scares them, nights like this won’t be exceptions—they’ll be previews.

And that, sir, is the hard truth the Garden heard loud and clear.

Last Night in Boston, or: The Knicks Get Properly Introduced

 

Dear Friend,

Well I suppose you will want to hear about the basketball game they played up here last night, though personally I would have preferred they postponed it until the Knicks learned how to stop a man from running straight through them like a trolley with no brakes. But they went ahead and played it anyhow, on account of the Celtics had already warmed up and it would’ve been rude to send the people home after they paid good money.

Jaylen Brown was the fellow chiefly responsible for the trouble. You might remember him from such previous incidents as “the playoffs,” where he also used the Knicks for cardio. Last night he put in 42 points, though it felt more like he gave the Knicks 42 instructions on how not to defend him, if they ever feel like trying something different. He also collected a few rebounds and assists just to stay hydrated, I guess.

There was one point where he plowed through a couple of Knicks on his way to the basket and I swear he looked offended they didn’t give him more resistance. If this was, as the kids say, “revenge,” then the Knicks might want to apologize again just to be safe.

The Celtics didn’t even ask Tatum to do anything except breathe, and even then they didn’t insist. Derrick White pitched in 22 and four threes, mostly out of politeness.

As for the Knicks, Mikal Bridges decided he might as well shoot the ball since nobody else seemed particularly committed to the task. He made eight threes and scored 35, which means he was the high scorer for both teams not named Jaylen Brown. The rest of the gang looked like they’d taken a vow of offensive modesty.

Jalen Brunson, usually the dependable sort, contributed 15 points that took so much effort you’d think he was being paid by the brick. He spent the evening taking shots that should have come with a warning label, something like “Do Not Attempt Unless Supervised by a Professional.” Unfortunately, he is the professional.

The Celtics won 123–117, which sounds close enough if you squint, though it never felt close unless you count the many instances where Brown got close to a Knicks defender on his way to knocking him over.

The talk around here is that the way to beat the Knicks is to play that old-school physical defense that reminds everyone of the good old days, back when men were men and whistles were ornamental. Judging from last night, I would say the Knicks understand this theory completely, except for the part where they are supposed to respond in some fashion.

Anyway, that’s the news from Boston, where the Celtics improved to 12–9, the Knicks dipped to 13–7, and I developed a renewed respect for sturdy hardwood floors, which spent the whole night getting acquainted with Knicks players who were recently knocked onto them.

Write soon, or send help, whichever comes first.

Yours truly,
A Very Tired Witness