The New York Knicks didn’t just win Game 4, they snatched it out of the Spurs’ hands in the final minutes, and turned Madison Square Garden into a delirious, chest-thumping confirmation of every Knicks fan’s wildest fantasies about this team’s destiny. Down by as many as 29 and still trailing by 20 early in the fourth, they stormed back for a 107–106 win, the largest comeback in NBA Finals history, to grab a 3–1 stranglehold on the series and move within one win of their first title since 1973.
For three quarters, it looked like San Antonio had delivered the reality check. The Spurs carved up New York early, sprinting out to a 27-point halftime cushion and stretching it to 81–52 in the third, quieting the Garden in a way that felt almost sacrilegious given how loud this building has been all spring. But the defining trait of these Knicks has been their refusal to accept the script, and once again they leaned into that identity — tightening the screws defensively, holding San Antonio to 14 points on brutal 4-for-20 shooting in the third and giving themselves just enough life to make one last push.
By the time the fourth quarter really got rolling, you could feel the inevitability creeping in, that strange mix of desperation and swagger that only exists in playoff runs like this. Jalen Brunson, who finished with 36, kept attacking off the dribble, walking that line between calm and frantic that only true lead guards can manage. OG Anunoby, with 33 of his own, turned into the kind of two-way force that changes series, first by blowing up actions on the perimeter, then by crashing the glass on every late possession like his career depended on it.
The signature moment, of course, will live on loop in New York for decades. Brunson pulled up from way downtown on what looked like a hero ball three, the kind of shot that gets second-guessed for years if it bricks cleanly. Instead, it hung just long enough on the rim for Anunoby to slither in and tip it home with 1.2 seconds left, completing the comeback and turning the Garden into a riot of blue and orange limbs and unfiltered noise. It was chaos, it was absurd, and it was utterly on brand for a Knicks team that already erased a 22-point deficit in the fourth quarter earlier this postseason and has made living on the edge a weekly habit.
If you’re a Knicks fan, this is nirvana. If you’re everyone else, especially NBA diehards who aren’t from New York, this might be your personal hell. Because with this run — and especially with this Game 4 heist — comes the inevitable side effect; Knicks discourse, wall-to-wall, from now until someone pries the mic away from the New York ecosystem. And at the front of that ecosystem, megaphone in hand, is Stephen A. Smith.
Stephen A. has been very open about where his heart lies. His Knicks fandom isn’t a secret, and ESPN has leaned all the way into it, centering pregame coverage around his Knicks love during previous runs and even letting him deliver what amounted to an on-air pep rally at the Garden. When critics complained that this slanted a supposedly neutral broadcast, Smith’s answer was essentially kick rocks, pointing to his lifelong Knicks allegiance as justification for the theatrics. That’s catnip for a certain breed of Knicks fan — but for a huge chunk of the NBA audience, it’s exactly why they’re exhausted.
Part of the annoyance is fatigue. This is the same Stephen A. who once melted down over the Knicks landing the third pick in the 2019 draft lottery, comparing the experience as a fan to being kidnapped and tortured before being let go when you’re no longer useful, a deliberately over-the-top metaphor that has lived online ever since. Over the years, that blend of melodrama and martyrdom has made him a symbol of Knicks fandom at its loudest and most self-absorbed, and not in a way that endears him to neutral fans.
Even within the Knicks fanbase, there’s a love–hate relationship. When New York stumbled earlier this year, his explosive social-media rants triggered a wave of backlash from fans who accused him of front-running and not actually riding with the team through the highs and lows. Some called him a fake fan, arguing that his Knicks content is more about engagement and brand than genuine support, a sentiment that’s been echoed before when he’s botched player names or seemed out of step with the real diehards. When your own fanbase is roasting you for your Knicks takes, imagine how the rest of the league’s fans feel watching you dominate the conversation.
His posture during this Finals run has only added fuel. After multiple Knicks fans were arrested outside MSG following Game 3, Smith dedicated airtime to calling the behavior disgusting and embarrassing, scolding the fanbase for how they represented the city on a national stage. Some viewers appreciated a major voice telling New Yorkers to look in the mirror, but plenty of fans — Knicks and otherwise — bristled at what they saw as grandstanding from someone who often profits off the same volatility he was suddenly condemning. The online reaction ranged from support to flat-out you don’t represent us hostility, underscoring just how polarizing his Knicks commentary has become.
Here’s the thing, folks: When the Knicks rip the heart out of a well-run Spurs team with a 29-point comeback in the Finals, a lot of non-Knicks fans are experiencing the moment through gritted teeth. They can’t even fully enjoy the basketball brilliance — the Brunson shot creation, the Anunoby tip, the sheer improbability of the swing — because they know what comes bundled with it. And it is not limited to Stephen A. storming onto sets like a wrestling heel, yelling about how he tried to tell y’all while half the basketball world reaches for the mute button.
With that . . . Whether you love or hate the Knicks, Game 4 is one of those nights that will sit in NBA lore forever — a historic comeback, a legendary arena detonating, a franchise inching toward an ending it has chased for more than half a century. But in 2026, the story of the Knicks can’t be separated from the story of their fans and their loudest avatars. For New Yorkers, this is vindication. For a lot of everyone else, it’s confirmation of their worst fear; The Knicks are not only back, they’re winning — and their most annoying voices just got a fresh lifetime of ammo.
If you cannot play with them, then root for them.