Chris Herring - The Flagrant History of the 1990s New York Knicks

Blood in the Garden

The Flagrant History of the 1990s New York Knicks

Chris Herring

For Marsha and Cedric Herring, the best parents I ever couldve asked for.

All Ive ever wanted is to make you proud, and I pray Im doing that now.

Until we meet again. I love you.

There was a time, back in the spring of 1994, when bellies were perpetually full at Two Penn Plaza.

Back then, Knicks employees who worked in the Madison Square Garden corporate offices were treated to extravagant buffet lunches in the fourteenth-floor hallwaycomplete with lo mein, gourmet sandwiches, jalapeo cheese poppers, egg rolls, and dessertswhenever the club tallied a three-game winning streak.

The Knicks were transforming into an NBA fat cat, and one of the most feared teams in basketball. After a disappointing 39-win season in 1991, a personnel overhaul helped lift New York to 51 regular-season victories in 1992 and an Eastern Conferencebest 60 triumphs in 1993. By then, the free lunches were no longer a rarity. Theyd become an expectation.

Then came the mother of all buffets. In March 1994, with coach Pat Riley and the Knicks preying on one foe after another, they strung together a franchise-record 15 straight wins, and those celebratory lunches were held every week for five weeks in a row. It was during one of those jubilant meals that Frank Murphy, the teams business manager, decided to rain on the lunch parade.

Just make sure to enjoy this, the executive said, because itll never be like this again. This is special.

To some in the room, the 54-year-olds what-goes-up-must-come-down message felt unwarranted. Murphy had said things like this before, sure. But this run15 consecutive winsfelt different. There was a certain electricity everyone wanted to hold on to this time. I was in my thirties, with all this optimism. And I remember telling him, Dont say that. Itll always be like this, says Pam Harris, then the teams marketing director. But now, looking back, I can better appreciate what Frank was saying.

No onenot even Murphycould have known just how steep the organizations fall would be.

The New York Knicks were among the defining teams throughout one of the NBAs golden eras. They made the playoffs in all ten years of the decade, with three conference finals showings and two trips to the NBA Finals. So the utter ruin into which New York would fall in the following two decades was inconceivable.

Coach Jeff Van Gundy abruptly resigned from the club on the morning of December 8, 2001, quietly taking with him some of the last remnants of the teams 1990s DNA. By and large, from that day he stepped down to now, the once-proud organization has been nothing short of disastrous. Despite playing in the nations largest market and pouring more money into its rosters than any other club, no franchise has burned through more coaches, lost more games, or tallied fewer playoff series wins in that span than the Knicks.

As we approach the twenty-five-year mark since the last time the Knickerbockers reached the Finalsand come up on the fifty-year anniversary of the clubs last NBA titlethings have deteriorated to where fans are thrilled by the mere prospect of a functional team. Hell, most fans would settle for the free buffet lunch.

Yet in having to endure such lean years, fans have only become more nostalgic for those nineties-era Knicks. No, those teams never tasted immortality. They were never the leagues most skilled collection of players. But for what the Knicks lacked in finesse, they made up for with fight (often literally) and floor burns; grit that endeared them to countless New Yorkers. When fans looked at John Starkswho became an All-Star despite going undrafted after playing at four different colleges and leaving school at one point to work a $3.35-an-hour job bagging groceries at Safewaythey saw someone who overcame incredible odds by working tirelessly. In the blue-collar underdog Starks, countless fans saw themselves.

Those Knicks made you feel something. The teams fans felt pride in their hardworking players. League office executives felt the pulsating headaches that came while issuing punishments for the Knicks, whose brass-knuckles physicality was so extreme it led the NBA to alter its rulebook. New Yorks opponents felt the bone-rattling pain they had to endure during twelve-round bouts that doubled as basketball games.

When I used to walk into the Garden to play the Knicks, I didnt always know if we were gonna win, former Bulls forward Horace Grant would say years later. But I always knew we were going to bleed.

The 1990s Knicks were wildly colorfulat times, as flagrant and out of bounds off the court as they were on it. They were a brute-force version of Forrest Gump, repeatedly intertwined with historic moments, from the rise of Michael Jordans Bulls dynasty; to the O. J. Simpson chase during the Finals in 1994; to Reggie Millers eight-point outburst in nine seconds in 1995; to their blood feud with Rileys Miami Heat clubs. You cant tell the story of the leagues most fascinating decade without the New York Knicks.

Despite that, its a story that has never fully been told. But nowthrough hundreds of interviews with players, coaches, trainers, opponents, friends, family members, and executives in and around the teamit can be. The rivalries and rumors. The feuds and fights. The secret histories and stunning revelations.

And rest assured: no punches will be pulled. Which is just how those Knicks would like it.

Twenty minutes into his first practice as Knicks coach, Pat Riley looked a bit ruffled.

It was unusually muggy on the morning of October 4, 1991, in Charleston, South Carolina. Inside the teams practice gymwhich lacked air-conditioning and was a sauna in the best of timesthe air was stifling. Yet those pressure-cooker conditions were but a small reason why the coach appeared uncharacteristically off-center. Riley, featured on the cover of GQ two years earlier, had long been known for his pristine, slicked-back hair and stylish Armani threads. But now a number of the pomaded strands atop his head had popped out of place. Beads of sweat were showing through his team-issued polo. Momentarily doubled over and breathless, the 6-foot-4 Riley had his hands on his kneecaps.

At 46, he was the most accomplished coach in modern NBA history, having won four rings while leading the Showtime Lakers, a job that had allowed him to stand still on the sideline, relatively relaxed, while his clubs sped up and down the court. Which is why, on that October morning, it was such a change of pace for Riley to desperately sprint across the court to stop two Knick players from killing each other in the first basketball drill of the coachs tenure.

It had all begun with Riley splitting his team up to conduct three-on-three box-out drills. The smaller wing players headed down to the far end to work with assistants Jeff Van Gundy and Dick Harter, while the post players stayed with Riley and assistant Paul Silas. The concept was simple: coaches would launch fifteen-foot jumpers, and the six players would battle for positioning inside the paint to secure the misses.

In the group of post players, sharp-elbowed forward Xavier McDaniel was dominating the exercise, albeit in a slightly underhanded fashion. As Rileys and Silass shots ricocheted off the rim, and the muscle-bound teammates barreled into one another, McDaniel, a Knicks newcomer and a former All-Star, was quietly hooking opposing players legsa wily, veteran trick that often caused them to trip just before they could leap for rebounds. Doing this, McDaniel twice managed to beat camp invitee Anthony Mason to the ball. Mason wrote off McDaniels first hook as an honest mistake. The second time, he grew agitated.