You Had To Be The With Me

You had to be there.

You had to be there with me at 1:40am in the UK, sitting in the dark, telling yourself after every timeout, every commercial break, every quarter, "just a little longer."

You had to be there with me when my eyes were tired, but my heart was wide awake.

You had to be there with me when I was messaging my American friend, on Instagram at 2:22am, complaining that the Spurs were playing dirty after the uncalled head push on Brunson by Wemby.

Trust me, you had to be there with me refreshing stats, gripping my duvet so tightly with anticipation that my knuckles turned white, celebrating quietly because normal people were asleep — aka my mum and dad — while New York was fighting for a championship.

Trust me, you had to be there with me watching Brunson take another knock and get back up like nothing happened.

You had to be there with me feeling every run, every missed shot, every moment when it felt like the game could swing either way.

You had to be there with me when the nerves took over and every possession felt like it lasted an hour.

You had to be there with me hearing the birds start singing outside and realizing the sun was coming up.

You had to be there with me knowing work was only a few hours away and deciding you didn't care how tired you'd be.

One day people will look at the scores, the highlights, and the box scores.

But they won't know what it felt like.

They won't know what it was like to lose sleep, to live and die with every possession, to spend the early hours of the morning believing.

They won't know the feeling of realizing it would be Knicks in Five, not Knicks in Four.

You should have been there with me when my fourteen-year-old self reached the high school playoffs and watched our season end in the very same round the Cavaliers did.

Back then I didn't know where basketball would take me. I just knew I loved the game.

You should have been there with me wishing I had someone to share that enthusiasm with, when the only friends who understood why a game could ruin or make your entire week lived thousands of miles away.

You should have been there with me learning that distance doesn't matter when you're all losing your minds over the same game at two o'clock in the morning.

You should have been there with me walking through Madison Square Garden on the tour, looking around in complete disbelief.

You should have been there with me standing in a place I'd only ever seen on a screen, wondering how many legends had walked those same halls before me.

You should have been there with me feeling small and amazed all at once, standing where generations of Knicks history had been made.

You should have been there with me wishing I was back in New York.

Because ever since I left, a small part of me has wanted to return.

Not just to the city, but to the Garden.

To hear the crowd.

To see the court.

To watch the Knicks in person and be part of it all instead of watching from thousands of miles away.

You should have been there with me dreaming that one day I will.

I won't remember the exhaustion.

I'll remember the Knicks were in the Finals.

And the people who were there?

We'll remember every second.

New York is my favourite city and i will treasure every Orange Blue and white memory I have