The Indiana Pacers and New York Knicks rivalry was iconic in the 90s, but still has some juice left in it as both teams head into new eras.
Do you remember it? I do. It’s a story that slips a little further down the river of time each year, yet whose embers still catch flame in memory. It’s a tale, like all good ones, that’s rooted in truth, real places and names, actual events and genuine — and at times very — raw emotions. And like most of those good tales, it’s best told garnished with bias.
It began in the spring of ’93.
Indianapolis was different then, viewed still by outsiders as a giant cornfield with a racetrack. If eyes fell upon Indy it was once in May and rarely anytime else. It was before roundabouts devoured every intersection in Carmel, and before a Swedish furniture maker thought Fishers would be a nice place to set up shop.
It was before Peyton Manning interested Hoosiers in the NFL, and it felt like a world away from the place that could successfully host a Super Bowl. It was a city overlooked, yet yearning for something more than ignorance. We waited for a champion to rally behind, we waited or something to celebrate. Then, in the spring of ’93, the Indiana Pacers played the New York Knicks.
Symmetry is an anomaly in sports. You play an odd number of games in a series after all. So whenever you see something like how Stan Musial had 3,630, 1,815 at home and 1,815 away, it looks impossible. Symmetry just doesn’t happen.
But it did during the Pacers-Knicks rivalry.
Back in the spring of ’93, no one would have imagined that the two soon-to-be rivals would face each other in the playoffs six times over eight seasons. Or that each team would hold home court thrice. Or that each team won three of those series. Or that both teams would win on their respective home courts exactly 12 times. It even seems surreal that after 6,240 points were scored, Indiana’s lead would be just 54 points. Think about that: all that separated these two teams was 54 points, over 35 games over eight years.
The symmetry extended onto the court.
Reggie Miller’s 25 point fourth quarter in 1994. Starks and Spike Lee celebrating, in Indianapolis, also in 1994. Reggie’s 8 points in 8.9 seconds, Ewing taking 34 steps before laying in one game winner, then missing another wide-open one in Game 7, all in 1995. An entirely bald Pacers’ team blitzing the Knicks in 1998, then an underdog Knicks team upsetting the heavily-favored Pacers in 1999. Then a final, much awaited breakthrough trip to the Finals, by the Pacers, in Madison Square Garden, in 2000.
There were fights, tears, jeers, cheers, insults aplenty, and uniforms soaked in champagne. And it was fun. Isn’t that weird? With almost two decades of hindsight, it’s fun to reminisce on how competitive it was. They would win, then we would, and so on and so forth. When I search through all the memories I only see two things that are missing.
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The first is that neither won a championship. The Knicks had two shots at it, running into Olajuwon’s Rockets in 1994 and the Duncan-Robinson Spurs in 1999. The Pacer to the Kobe-Shaq Lakers to six games in the 2000 Finals before falling. And Michael came back to ruin things for everyone in the NBA from 1996 to 1998. If either team could have each won a championship or two, this would have been remembered by everyone as the great rivalry that it was.
The second is that it will never happen again.
At least not like it did then. First of all, an argument can be made that the Knicks are maybe the worst —definitely the worst — team this century. So they need to start playing well. Besides that, the cast of characters, with free agency, change far too much.
And the cities are different, well, New York is still New York. But Indy is different.
Indianapolis is the city that hosted a Super Bowl, that has the roundabouts, and the IKEA; the city that is no longer dismissed and ignored. Actually, people generally like it. The raw animosity isn’t there for the rivalry to transcend basketball like it once did.
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But still whenever I see the Pacers and Knicks play, my mind will go past Myles Turner and Kristaps Porzingis, past Roy Hibbert blocking Carmelo Anthony, past all of that and back to a time when the Hicks played the Knicks and won as much as we lost. Back to the springs of ’98 and ’95, whose embers still catch fire in my memory, even while they drift further down the river of time.