For three quarters, the East Finals opener looked more like a confirmation than a contest. The Cavaliers had all the markers of competitors ready for the grandest of stages in pro hoops: fresher legs than expected after surviving a grueling seven-game semifinal-round series, a double-digit lead that ballooned to 22 in the fourth quarter, and a poised offense that had spent most of the set-to carving through the Knicks’ defense. Then, in a span of eight minutes and change, the script flipped. The supposedly dead-in-the-water Gothamites closed regulation and overtime on a staggering 44-11 run, turning what should have been a procedural Game One victory for the visitors into a reminder of the fragility of postseason control.
Needless to say, the rally was dramatic in and of itself. What made it more revealing was how methodical it became once panic enveloped the Cavaliers. Jalen Brunson, again proving his dependability in the crunch, recognized the weak point and kept pressing on it. He repeatedly hunted James Harden in switches and isolation sets, in the process forcing the defense to bend and subsequently snap. He scored 11 straight points in what can be best described as a blur of possessions as the Garden shifted from anxious to delirious. The strategy was not especially subtle. It did not need to be, of course.
The judgments came in the aftermath. Cavaliers head coach Kenny Atkinson defended his decision to stay with his veterans deep into the unraveling, arguing afterward that they built the lead in the first place, and thus deserved the opportunity to finish the match. Bench tacticians often speak of trust as currency in the playoffs, and the argument is not without merit. That said, National Basketball Association annals are replete with examples of failures borne of fatigue. The wine and gold looked spent long before overtime began, and their condition was apparent to the charging Knicks. They managed only four field goals during the decisive stretch and committed turnover after turnover when the stress intensified. Continuity from the sidelines increasingly became inertia on the court.
There is, too, an irony woven into the result. Much of the conversation entering the series centered on whether the Knicks could withstand the Cavaliers’ depth, pace, and offensive versatility over the long haul. Instead, Game One unveiled what seemed to be a far more important variable: emotional elasticity. Heading into the series, the blue and orange had spent much of the postseason operating sans aesthetic beauty, and they remained unapologetic in leaning into resilience as their identity through Game One. They did not suddenly become more skilled in the final eight minutes. They simply became more relentless. OG Anunoby returned and steadied the defense. Mikal Bridges made timely plays. Landry Shamet supplied unexpected shooting. And Brunson, predictably, met the challenge head on when the encounter became a continuing test of nerves.
Granted, there is nothing declarative about a single victory in a best-of-seven affair. The Cavaliers remain good enough to advance to the NBA Finals; in fact, they possess the talent to do so comfortably if they regain their composure. On the other hand, there can be no doubting the capacity of scabs to turn into scars. They squandered a 22-point fourth-quarter lead; there is no way for them to have emerged untouched. And the Knicks certainly know the feeling after having spent years on the other side of such battles: coming close to relevance only to experience it slipping away.
Now, the Knicks are applying the pressure instead of absorbing it. And, make no mistake, they are only too happy to do so. Amid the celebration that followed the final buzzer, the shift loomed larger than the comeback itself.
Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994. He is a consultant on strategic planning, operations and human resources management, corporate communications, and business development.
