What I saw in New York last night

They can’t take this away from us

I wanted to send a newsletter out tonight, but I’m going to have to delay publication until tomorrow. There are two main reasons for this:

First, I’m plugging away at a big update to our state legislative election site, expanding it to include details on critical races in the states mentioned in a mostly vague, redistricting-focused DLCC memo. The list and site are almost done, but I’d rather not send a rushed or incomplete version.

Second, after nearly 24 hours of living off pure adrenaline as a result of the Knicks winning their first NBA title in 53 years, I’m very tired.

I watched the game last night with my brother and some friends in a bar on Bleecker Street, where we showed up four hours early to make sure that we could get in. That probably seems absurd, but it’s a testament to how absolutely bonkers the city has become over this basketball team. Or, really, how bonkers it’s always been.

The bar exploded when OG Anunoby pulled down the final rebound and launched the ball into the air; champagne popped and fizzed, people I’ve never met hugged me, and my brother’s friends congratulated me like I was the longest tenured coach at the end of the bench. I’ve been rooting for the Knicks since I can remember, which until last night has almost entirely resulted in disappointment, frustration, and befuddlement. It was worth it.

As I left the bar to meet up with friends, one guy on the sidewalk, smiling and earnestly concerned on my behalf, told me to cheer up, that I should be smiling and enjoying the moment. I half-wanted to tell him that I just have a natural scowl, but I also was genuinely stunned by the occasion. I didn’t know how to react, wasn’t sure what to do; I hadn’t seen one of my lifelong New York teams win a title since I was a naive 7-year-old, and I could not identify the new emotions that were bubbling up.

So I walked. West to Washington Square Park, where hundreds of New Yorkers crowded around the empty fountain and cheered as people raced around in dizzying circles, screaming and hugging (yes, two guys beat each other with scooters, but I think they were drunk and their friends broke it up).

I watched as revelers sat out on a West Village fire escape, pouring alcohol into the open mouths of strangers.

Stopped dead in my tracks as fireworks burst just a few stories overhead in the middle of 7th avenue.

High-fived with lines of people I did not and will never know, with no idea of where they’re from or who they love or how they lived.

Bemusedly observed visitors from Morocco, Brazil, and Scotland, whose nations played in World Cup games earlier that night, watch in some mix of confusion and delight, joining in the celebrations as New Yorkers treated them like their own.

We made our way up to Madison Square Garden, which was blocked off like a holy site. The last time I’d seen the city like this, with everyone just instinctively rushing toward the same location because you just had to be there, was when people rushed toward Trump Tower to mock the president when he officially lost the 2020 election.

New Yorkers were prepared for Trump this week, too, greeting and humiliating him at MSG with deafening, defiant boos. Last time, he’d been responsible for the medical massacre of our neighbors during the Covid pandemic; this time, he was the man behind the police state kidnappings of longstanding community members and loved ones.

What does booing do? Well, it proves that we won’t acquiesce. And while it can feel silly to celebrate in such grim times, I think we need these moments of unity and unbridled glee now more than ever. We were euphoric because yes, we love our basketball team, but more than that, New Yorkers care about New Yorkers, about the shared struggle and triumphs, and we were now sharing the triumph.

It’s easy to feel cynical and atomized these days, but then a random guy will earnestly tell you to cheer up and celebrate, that life is worth living and the fight can and does pay off. The far-right might try to co-opt sports, hijack culture, and make despair seem inevitable, but they’ll never be able to stamp out the instinct to come together and exorcise misery, no matter how long and hard the struggle has been.

I’ll be back tomorrow with political news and updates.