I’ve never been much of a sports fan. But if I had to choose teams, they’ve always been New York teams. I root for the Rangers, the Mets, and the Knicks by default.

I grew up in New Jersey, but I spent 17 years living in New York City, from age 21 to 38, and that’s where I became an adult. Sorry, J.Lo, I wasn’t born there, but after nearly two decades in the city, I still identify with New York more than any other place on earth. Once a New Yorker, always a New Yorker.

So when the Knicks made it into the playoffs, I started paying attention. Then I started watching. Then I got completely sucked in.

Part of it was the history. The Knicks haven’t been here in so long. Part of it was the players, who I became familiar with surprisingly fast. And part of it was the energy. Every game felt bigger than the one before.

By Game Four, I was jumping up and down and screaming at the television. I desperately wished I were watching from a crowded New York bar, but I also understood that I wasn’t the only former New Yorker watching from somewhere else and feeling connected to the city. Here in Denver, the crowd at The Occidental, which gathers New York sports fans, was absolutely electric.

Last night’s Game Five felt much the same. I anticipated the game all day. Deep down, I felt like it was going to be a win.

When the final seconds ticked off the clock and the Knicks clinched it, I felt this unexpected rush of happiness. The first thing I did was open social media to see what my friends in New York were posting.

Almost immediately, one friend messaged me: “You’re missing out! It’s indescribable! The whole city is blowing up!”

Then my feed filled with videos.

Thousands of New Yorkers pouring into the streets. Strangers hugging. People climbing on signs. Car horns blaring. Pure excitement everywhere.

And suddenly I was emotional. Not because of basketball. Because of what I was seeing.

It’s been a long time since my news feed has shown people coming together over something joyful. So much of what we consume every day is division, outrage, anxiety, and bad news. We scroll through tragedy after tragedy and argument after argument until it begins to feel like that’s all there is.

But last night was different.

***On the streets of the city watching the game together***

I watched millions of people experience the same emotion at the same time. I was seeing strangers embrace one another as though they’d known each other for years. I was seeing people from every neighborhood, every race, every profession, and every background celebrating side by side.

There was no debate. No outrage. No one asking who voted for whom. No one arguing.

Just pure elation: the kind that spills into the streets because it can’t be contained inside apartments or bars. The kind that reminds you that beneath all the noise, people still crave the same things: connection, community, belonging, and moments that make us feel part of something bigger than ourselves.

I wasn’t just happy for the Knicks. I was happy for New York.

For one night, New Yorkers weren’t commuters, executives, artists, teachers, immigrants, students, bartenders, or tourists. They were simply New Yorkers. And from 1,800 miles away, I felt it too.

So I’m celebrating, not just because the Knicks won. But because a city I love reminded us all what triumph and celebration looks like when it’s shared.

Go New York. Go New York. Go!

The Joy of a New York Win

An Unexpected Month, and True Friendship