April and May of 1997-2000 were arguably four of the most memorable springs of the early part of my life. Why? Well it wasn’t because I was crushing elementary school and middle school spring dances (I wasn’t), it wasn’t because it always marked the beginning of a crippling allergy season, and it certainly wasn’t because it meant that summer vacation was right around the corner. It was because the New York Knicks and the Miami Heat played four of the most intense playoff series in NBA history.
From 1997-2000, the Knicks and the Heat in the playoffs was a staple of the spring. I mean, from the ages of 9-12, I was probably convinced that the NBA had made it mandatory for the Knicks to face the Heat in the playoffs and for the series to go all five games, or all seven games, or however many games it took for both teams to beat the living hell out of each other. If it was a best-of-11 series, you could have guaranteed that they were going to play all 11.
And boy were those series good. If you liked defense, they were more than good — they were ecstasy. Games with final scores like 77-73 and 77-76 and 82-81 were commonplace. Some of the most fiercely competitive basketball you could possibly ask for between two teams that were so evenly matched and so perfect for each other, that they were practically carbon copies.
I still remember the pure hatred I had for those Heat teams like it was yesterday. I think about Tim Hardaway, and Alonzo Mourning, and Dan Majerle, and Jamal Mashburn, and Voshon Lenard and I feel like I’m 10 years old again. I think of P.J. Brown flipping Charlie Ward in the air like a rag doll on the baseline right underneath the basket in Game 5 of the 1997 Eastern Conference semis and I feel the same rage the 4th grade version of me felt. I think of Jeff Van Gundy swinging on Alonzo Mourning’s tree trunk of a leg, hanging on for dear life trying to break up the fight between him and Larry Johnson during Game 4 of the 1998 first round series and I think of how badly I wanted Grandmama to knock Alonzo on his ass, even as a 5th grader.
All of those memories are so fresh, so vivid still, that’s it’s impossible for me not to get excited about Knicks-Heat, Part V. Even though it’s 12 years later, and even though Allan Houston is sitting behind the Knicks’ bench in a suit as the 
Assistant GM and not on the court putting a dagger in Miami’s heart with a Game 5 buzzer-beater, it still feels the same. Even though it’s Carmelo Anthony, Amar’e Stoudemire and Tyson Chandler out there instead of John Starks, Patrick Ewing and Charles Oakley, it still feels the same. And even though the hatred is now aimed at LeBron James, Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh, it still feels the same.
Are we heavy underdogs? Yeah, there’s not a single person that knows anything about basketball that honestly thinks the Knicks will beat the Heat in a best-of-seven series. They’re bigger than us, faster than us and better than us and we don’t match up with them nearly as well as the teams of the late-90s did. But so what? The Knicks were heavy underdogs to Miami in every series they won from 1998-2000.
Back in those series, the key to our victories over Miami was our physicality, our refusal to be bullied and pushed around. We had a bunch of guys who would go to the mat every game for 48 minutes and not let up until the final buzzer sounded — Charles Oakley diving into press row saving lose balls, Larry Johnson scrapping with guys six inches taller than him, Charlie Ward driving the lane with reckless abandon, putting his body on the line.
This year, our key is going to be defense. The defensive play of Iman Shumpert and Tyson Chandler is going to ultimately decide who wins this series. If Shumpert can slow down Dwyane Wade and Chandler can control the paint, the Knicks have a legitimate shot of knocking off the Heat. We already know Carmelo Anthony is going to score in bunches and he’s capable of going blow-for-blow with LeBron James. We don’t know what we’re going to get out of Amar’e Stoudemire, Baron Davis, Landry Fields and J.R. Smith. They are the wild cards. But if Shumpert and Chandler can make life difficult for Miami, they will make things a whole lot easier for us.
Tomorrow afternoon, in the arena formerly known simply as Miami Arena, this 15-year-old rivalry will begin anew. In terms of the animosity the teams’ fan bases hold for each other, it’s almost like there hasn’t been over a decade in between playoff meetings. But tomorrow afternoon, the saga will resume, right where it left off, 12 springs ago.
I started playing basketball when I was 6 years old. The last time I stepped on a basketball court was senior year of high school. Needless to say, a great majority of my childhood and adolescence revolved around the game of basketball. My winters were spent playing in my township’s rec league on Saturdays and traveling around the state with my travel team on Sundays. My springs were spent watching the New York Knicks religiously.
