This is no longer Broadway. It is the Canyon of Heroes. It is Champions Way, newly-erected orange and blue streets signs saying as much litter the roughly mile-and-a-half-long stretch beginning adjacent to the intersection of West Thames and Little West before concluding at New York City Hall.
Droves on droves of fans flood the Lower Manhattan streets. They have come from all corners of the five boroughs. Some have flown in from upstate New York. Others have returned home from their newfound residences well outside of the fixed bounds of the state’s borders.
The fans are running out of standing room. It doesn’t matter. Not on this day. Not for this event. Some scale the scaffolding stitching together the street and its buildings. Others climb pedestrian signals and position themselves uncomfortably on top of the big, yellow box. Some climb trees. Many climb each other. And some gaze on from a distance away.
It’s a show no one wanted to miss: the greatest sight to behold in the last 53 years of New York City history. The Knicks won an NBA championship, and as a result, they are now Kings of New York. Not the Yankees or Mets. Not the Giants or Jets. Not the Rangers or Islanders. Certainly not the Brooklyn Nets.
Only the Knicks could heal a city ailing for more than a half decade. In turn, on Thursday, the city returned the favor.
What ensued following Game 5 of the 2026 NBA Finals against the San Antonio Spurs was merely an appetizer, a collection of hors d’oeuvres preparing these Knicks for the main course.
They were on “Good Morning America.” They were on “The Tonight Show.” The Knicks have been on a press run for the ages.
But this is different. This is the official crowning of these Knicks as kings. It is the day every one of them will receive a key to the city. To New York City. It is the day every person associated with bringing the Larry O’Brien NBA Finals trophy home will become immortalized — because the dark days of the old Knicks, at least until basketball begins again in October, is dead.
In its place has risen a champion. And along with that champion has risen a dormant, oftentimes divided city: “I don’t know you — but we did it!” one fan shouts to a new friend, a comrade, a teammate along Champions Way. The other fan appropriately responds: “We f–king did it! Let’s go, Knicks!”
Some fans, of course, prefer to get their message across using more traditional methods.
“Now I can die in peace,” reads one fan’s sign. “Let’s go, Knicks.”
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Mitchell Robinson is a man of his word: He’s brought the white monster truck to the team’s crowning ceremony, to the parade, and he’s sitting at an intersection a block away, signing any and everything fans are bringing to his window.
Second-year center Ariel Hukporti is at it again — and so is his ostensible drinking mate, Jeremy Sochan. The two were among the most inebriated following the Knicks’ Game 5 victory over the Spurs at Frost Bank Center. That night, Hukporti hijacked almost every postgame interview. Fast forward to Thursday, and he has now ditched his float for his feet: Hukporti is among the people, the fans who’ve supported these Knicks through thick and thin, at home and on the road. If he could, Big Huk might crowd-surf at this moment. Instead, he’s high-fiving crowds at a time.
The crowds are chanting for every player floating by, one through 15 — the long “Deuuuceeee” for Miles “Deuce” McBride. They’re chanting the Mike in Mike Brown aggressively a la the seagulls in “Finding Nemo,” a trend Karl-Anthony Towns started. They’ve chanted for Tyler Kolek and OG Anunoby. Now, it is Josh Hart’s moment.
Hart has a cigar in one hand and a drink in the other. He’s balancing family and close-friend responsibilities with relishing in the moment, in his christening as a New York king. The Hart of the City is blasting “Heart of the City,” an iconic Jay-Z song often referred to as “Where’s the Love?”
The love is in New York City. Finally, It’s been a while.
And then it happened. The left turn onto Champions Way. Sirens and horns blare, but to begin a “Let’s go Knicks” chant. Police officers and firefighters pay homage. Fans cheer until their hearts are full. And everyone from the players, coaches and game-day staff to executives and ownership are soaking in the moment.
These Knicks did it. They ended the drought. They revitalized New York City in ways no basketball team ever could. And for that, they will live on forever.
Long live the newfound Kings of New York City.
