I want to believe that somebody out there in a sports world obsessed with money, possessions and the pursuit of a record-setting contract still believes in team, togetherness and the pursuit of a common goal.
I want to believe in that ideal, but too often I give up in the face of overwhelming evidence that no such person exists and that we’re all alone on this cold planet.
And, then, Friday.
That’s when news broke that Jalen Brunson, pride of Stevenson High School, had opted to take a lesser contract from the Knicks in order to give his team the flexibility to pay teammates while signing other players. According to ESPN, he agreed to a four-year, $156.5 million contract extension, which is $113 million less than he could have made if he had waited to sign a deal in 2025.
This is difficult to grasp for me, a cynic of outsized proportions whose first thought normally is, “Who benefits?’’ and whose second thought is, “That’s what I thought.”
Although I leave open the possibility that Brunson’s decision is the brainchild of a management team looking to cast its client in the best possible light, that of selfless giver, I choose to believe that there’s at least one person who understands that winning is the thing, that camaraderie is a rare, priceless commodity and that a $250 million contract doesn’t make one’s life any better than a $150 million contract does.
Now, there is some dark nourishment in the details for the unbelievers out there. The deal is set up so Brunson can recoup that $113 million in his next contract. So it’s not as if he’s giving the Knicks a gift. But there is a chance of injury that could ruin his career or at least seriously damage his earning power. It happens.
The bigger point here is that Brunson did something he didn’t have to do. The Knicks have a chance to do something big in the next few years, and he knows it.
According to ESPN’s Adrian Wojnarowski, Brunson studied how Derek Jeter, Tom Brady and Patrick Mahomes had structured contracts to allow the Yankees, Patriots and Chiefs, respectively, to build and sustain championship teams. Brunson wants that for the Knicks, and he sees a talent gap between his team and the Celtics, who, coming off an NBA title, just gave massive contract extensions to stars Jayson Tatum and Derrick White.
He has come a long, long way. I remember standing in line to get into a Stevenson state tournament game and listening to a stranger tell me that Brunson was better than Isiah Thomas was at the same age. He was dead wrong, but I’ve thought of that conversation/lecture as I’ve watched Brunson get better and better as an NBA player. He was great this season, especially in the playoffs. He played hurt. He carried his team, the way Thomas used to. Hmmm.
He has become a master at using his body to gain leverage against defenders and get off his shot. At 6-2 and a not-very-defined 190 pounds, he doesn’t look like he should be dominant, but he is. To be more than what you seem to be — that’s a gift. It gives you stealth. It makes opponents not pay as much attention as they should.
When he was in Dallas playing alongside Luka Doncic, he sometimes looked like a typical NBA player trying to get his. Something changed when he signed with the Knicks two years ago. Was it new-found maturity? Comfort in knowing that he could be The Man on his team? If it was the latter, he took a U-turn from the tired tale of the self-centered NBA star. His scoring went up, yes, but freed from playing with someone who always wants the ball in his hands, he became a better all-around player. One who worked to get his teammates involved.
In an Eastern Conference playoff series against the 76ers this year, he averaged 35.5 points and nine assists. Those are stats that would cause many players to see a jackpot ahead. Brunson apparently saw a different kind of opportunity.
So there’s hope out there, even for us confirmed skeptics. A second-round pick, which is considered humble beginnings in the NBA, makes good, then gives back. In the big picture, it doesn’t matter that he’s a local kid, that he won a state title for Stevenson or that his dad is a former Bull.
But it’s nice, all of it. A package deal of nice, at a reduced rate.
