IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES AND THE WORST OF TIMES

THE NEW YORK KNICKS PARADE

by Larry Baumhor

    I hopped on the New Jersey Transit train in Trenton at 2:30 am, starry-eyed, filled with dreams, fantasies, and wild expectations. New York City here I come! Jumped a cab at Penn Station, informed the driver to take me to the Canyon of Heroes. It’s time to party, I yelled!

    Rick Brunson and I attended Temple University together.  He’s the assistant coach of the Knicks and father of the King of New York, Jalen. I was at McGonigle Hall when the Hall of Fame coach John Chaney grabbed Brunson by the neck while walking off the court during a game because of a botched play. I bled cherry and white! Like the putz that I am, the big shot from Temple had it in his screwy head that I was going to talk to Rick Brunson about that play at Temple, mind you, he was carrying the championship trophy during the parade.

    Two million rabid fans mixed with ten thousand cops! And I was there at 6:30 am, thank God! The police would not allow any fans into the parade at 7:30 am. After being patted down by the cops, I walked through a metal detector. I was given orange and blue beads, which I immediately put around my neck, the colors of the Knicks jersey. I wiggled my way through the crowd, yelling that I was a press photographer. Lie! Although I had my Sony 6000 strapped around my neck with an extra battery in my pocket. I was ready for war, and nothing and I mean nothing was going to stop me, not even death. Much to my obsession, I ended up behind this young woman who was up against the barricades the cops installed. I was there on the front line, baby! I shot one thousand six hundred rounds of photos as though I were a Machine Gunner! This was real as I spotted two snipers on the rooftop next to the parade. 

    I leaned on the woman in front of me as though I was committing a doggie style act. The guy next to her said, “Can you stay off of her back?” “The person behind me is pushing me,” I responded. Lie! I was delirious. I have to get the photo, I thought to myself. I’m a seventy-two-year-old fart with major health issues. I felt like passing out. At 10:15 am, the players began walking. And then God appeared, Jalen holding his baby, walking with his wife amongst the cops, police on horses, and two million frenzied fans. As I shot the photo, a tear streamed down my face. But I got the fuckin’ photo! I felt like Moses in the Garden of Eden. Half an hour later, the players were on buses.

 

Karl-Anthony Towns walked in front of me. I wanted to kiss him, but instead I took his photo. Jose Alvarado walked by me holding his child.

    Celebrities were there in profusion. Bob Dylan, a la Timothée Chalamet, was on a bus. I snapped a great shot of Tracy Morgan. Ben Stiller, whose dad played George’s father in Seinfeld, visited us. Funny man Chris Rock appeared.  Media mogul, connoisseur of cuisine, Martha Stewart, honored us with her presence. Spike Lee, the Brooklynite who spent ten million dollars over four decades for courtside seats, should be given a championship ring was amongst the celebrities. I wanted to hug Spike.

    Dig this: Jalen Brunson met Mariska Hargitay at a Knicks game while sitting in her front row seat. Jalen was smitten as he referred to her as his “number one” fan. Brunson loves Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, starring Hargitay. There is talk of Jalen appearing on the show! They hugged each other on the court after the championship final. Hargitay said to Brunson, “I love you so much. I’m so happy.” Vey iz mir! Jalen Brunson was in attendance for Mariska Hargitay's Broadway play Every Brilliant Thing on June 26, 2026, at the Hudson Theatre.

by Mariska Hargitay

    It was time to leave and find a cab. Not so easy! I was squashed by a sea of orange-and-blue fans. They were up high on every apparatus you could think of. They were down low on the sidewalks on stoops. They were sitting on top of police vans and cars. I was getting a little freaked out, man. How was I going to get a cab? Where was I going to go amongst this sea of madness? They shut down New York!  I had no place to go; all of the side streets were closed. I panicked and began crying. No one gave a fuck. Finally, after a two-hour walk, I arrived at the East-West Highway next to the Hudson.     Hundreds and hundreds of cabs passed me by. They looked like all Knicks fans in the cabs. The bastards! What was I going to do? How the fuck was I going to get a cab? One hour of waiting. Two hours of waiting. I walked to another street. No cabs. Now I’m back on the East-West Highway, waiting and waiting. This old man cuts in front of me. “Sir, I’ve been here for two and a half hours, please.” An empty cab arrives, and we simultaneously open the door. The old man physically grabbed me, desperately trying to prevent me from getting in the cab. A scuffle ensued between the old man and me. I kicked, punched, and did everything I could to get the old man out of the way. Exhausted, I dove into the cab, headfirst.

“You say hello, goodbye, this time I'm leaving


I say okay so long, I don't believe this change of plans is how the story ends


You say I don't show up here when you need me


I say that I'm not gonna be the one to tell our friends this how the story, how the story ends


This is how the story ends

 



Now every time you're up at night


Trying to get your story right


Do you wanna, oh do you wanna


Call me up and play pretend


“That everything is fine again


Do you wanna, yeah do you wanna” Lyrics by 


You say hello, goodbye, this time I'm leaving


I say okay so long, I don't believe this change of plans is how the story ends


You say I don't show up here when you need me


I say that I'm not gonna be the one to tell our friends this how the story, how the story ends


This is how the story ends



Now every time you're up at night


Trying to get your story right


Do you wanna, oh do you wanna


Call me up and play pretend


That everything is fine again


Do you wanna, yeah do you wanna” 

The song was written and composed by a collaborative team that includes All Time Low's frontman, Alex Gaskarth, alongside songwriters and producers John Feldmann, Joel Madden, and Benji Madden
 

“Start spreading the news, you're leaving today, tell 'em, Frank


I want to be a part of it, New York, New York


Your vagabond shoes, they are longing to stray


And step around the heart of it, New York, New York

I wanna wake up in that city that doesn't sleep


And find your king of the hill, top of the heap
Your small town blues, they are melting away


I'm gonna make a brand-new start of it in old New York


You always make it there, you make it anywhere


It's up to you, New York, New York”

The lyrics for the famous Theme from New York, New York were written by the lyricist Fred Ebb. The music was composed by his longtime writing partner, John Kander.