When it comes to the length of my relationship with the New York Knicks, I’m more Taylor Swift than Timothée Chalamet.
But it was inevitable. For months, Knicks fever was slowly drawing me in. A close friend said the team was singularly healing her from a breakup. Another from depression. I had inadvertently been subjected to playoff games through friends, or the daily turmoil of them, through colleagues.
From the vantage point of Washington DC, where I oversee our politics coverage, we deal with the national guard at Sweetgreen and sports bars turned into Maga havens. So New York during this particular
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