Last night was a typical Saturday night for me — playing Hades 2 for the 1300th time, catching up on X-Men ‘97, perusing basketball-reference.com — when I came across a couple of facts I feel compelled to share. Why? Because Vox pays based on a monthly quota and I woke up two articles short for July.
PATRICK EWING & THE 2026-27 KNICKS: BOTH UNDERRATED
In 1989 Patrick Ewing finished fourth in MVP voting, first among the six centers to receive votes (Hakeem Olajuwon, Brad Daugherty, Robert Parish, Mark Eaton and Moses Malone). A year later the Big Fella again led all pivots in MVP voting. Over a nine-year stretch (1989-1997) that included six different starting point guards, six different head coaches and a dizzying number of playing styles, Ewing received the most- or second-most MVP votes for a center six times. That’s not projection. That’s what happened.
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There’s an awful lot of projection happening in this summer’s NBA talk. The national media and fans of loser teams, no doubt buttressed by Adam Silver’s specious praise of parity, seem oddly certain the New York Knicks will extend the pratfall of the prior seven champions by failing to repeat in 2027. Given that the Knicks just put forth the greatest display of ass-whupping the Association has ever seen and are returning 90-something percent of those responsible for said rump-reddening, I assume the cynics are indebted less to “what happened” than to precedent.
Balderdash.
Forgive my language, but I’m just that upset. The great sportswriter Law Murray may be the only person currently with a power rankings that lists New York at the top. Power rankings don’t matter, natch; they are at best one person’s opinion. But why are so many people’s opinions wrong? Look how all the recent failures to repeat failed and tell me where it sounds like the Knicks.
Jalen Brunson didn’t depart for the Clippers, desiring a max deal plus a do-nothing $28 million off-the-books cheat code. The Knicks didn’t win some asterisk-stained Bubble ‘chip. Josh Hart is their only starter over 30; after the Bucks’ title, their non-Greek starters turned 30, 31, 33 and 36. When the Warriors won their fourth, Steph Curry was 33, Klay Thompson and Draymond Green 31.
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The Nuggets have spent literally zero dollars since winning it all three years ago (I can only hope the same happens with Arsenal, also owned by the Crankies). The Celtics have dropped consecutive series to their two most-hated Eastern rivals (losing five of seven home playoff games); seen one cornerstone tear his Achilles before racing back in record time the next year, only to finish it injured; then traded the other to one of those hated rivals for less than what Dallas got back for Luka. The Thunder, who succeeded Boston as the media’s “Not only did they win a title, they’re destined to for years” darling, got bit by the injury bug at the worst possible time last year, then traded three rotation players for second-round picks.
I’m a big fan of precedent myself. But I’m always learning that it’s not destiny, more just a useful guide for getting around. The fact that Daugherty, Parish, Malone and Eaton soon faded from MVP votes didn’t mean Ewing would. So long as the Mitchell Robinson cheap-out isn’t the first sign of James Dolan suffering a Nuggets/Celtics ownership mind-meld, the Knicks seem a pretty good bet to be the first repeat champs since 2018.
REGGIE MILLER SUCKS
He’s an insufferable broadcaster, not even the best baller in his family and a homewrecker. None of that is what’s worst about Reggie Miller, though.
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No, not even the tattoo.
Miller was never afraid to take the big shot. It’s why he has, at minimum, a half-dozen career highlights where any one would be most players’ best-remembered. I’ll spare you the two you’re likely aware of, but did you know both Chicago and New Jersey also served as the canvas to his artistry? If you’re troubled by me sharing these here at P&T, I understand. My only defense is these shots caused the MJ Bulls and Jason Kidd Nets to suffer, and in my teens and 20s I hated those teams as much as any.
Whatever truth is contained in those two videos, it is a vile truth, loud and clanging; the empty can rattles the most. Yes, Miller wasn’t afraid of the moment. But is it admirable for one to always be willing step up in the biggest of moments if one misses the vast, vast share of them? Imagine the ‘90s Knicks having every postseason come down to John Starks emptying the clip and letting the chips fall where they may. “John Starks?” you may say. “Are we really comparing John Starks to Reggie Miller?”
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Reader, yes.
I want to show you Miller’s numbers in the biggest games he played in. For the purposes of fairness, I’m excluding earlier years in his career, when the Pacers were still a work-in-progress. Miller wasn’t the focal point of the Pacers’ offense in the early ‘90s against the Celtics — that’d be Chuck Person — so I didn’t include his 7-of-17 shooting in their 1991 series finale. Instead, let’s go right to the alleged heart of the matter. How did Miller shoot when he was supposedly making his bones in the six biggest games of his career: the 1994 ECF against New York, 1995 ECF against Orlando, 1998 ECF against Chicago, 1999 ECF vs. New York, 2000 Finals against Los Angeles and the 2004 ECF against Detroit?
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3-of-18 (See? Starks-like!)
That’s 32-of-88 from the field (36%), which is . . . not good. And 14-of-43 from distance (33%). Greg Anthony shot 40% overall and 35% from deep for his career. So, in the moments Mr. Big Moment was supposedly his most Big Moment-able, Miller wasn’t even a valid role model for Cole growing up.
Last season, the Brooklyn Nets let 22 different people take the wheel of their lottery tank, several of whom probably weren’t actual professional basketball players (“Grant Nelson”? Please). Not a one of the 22 combined to shoot as badly from the field and from three as Miller did in his six biggest games.
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The larger lesson here? I guess don’t be a dick who trades on a rep you know you don’t deserve. Being willing to take big shots is cool, especially if you make some. But being willing to try isn’t heroic when you so often fail. Miller will go down as history’s Antoine Walker, a shameless chucker who never saw reason to stop. Unlike ‘Toine, who faded from the spotlight, Miller insists upon himself, insists on foisting that self on us. Not much we can do about it, besides educate ourselves and stay ready. You never know when the day will come that you get the chance to speak truth to power.
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