By: Kian Price
I have spent years trying to be a calm, logical sports fan. I tell myself not to let other teams bother me, to focus on the Celtics, and to accept that sports will always make me a little insane. But every season, the New York Knicks and their fans push that insanity to new levels. There is something uniquely exhausting about watching Knicks fans celebrate moments that mean nothing, and as a Celtics fan, I have unfortunately become an expert in their behavior.
Boston fans know real expectations. When the Celtics lose a game, we immediately start recalculating playoff seeding. When the Knicks win a game, their fans sprint into the streets like Adam Silver just mailed them a Larry O’Brien trophy. It is a different universe entirely.
The 2025 playoffs proved it. The Knicks beat an injured Celtics team in the second round and instantly turned Manhattan into a parade route. People were cheering, blasting music, and giving players street names. For a single series win against a Boston roster missing key starters. Knicks fans did not care about context; they just finally had something to scream about.
At the center of all of it is Jalen Brunson. I respect his rise to an All-NBA level guard, but he is also one of the most committed floppers in the league. This is not just my bias. Ricky O’Donnell of SB Nation wrote a full breakdown in April 2025, highlighting Brunson’s playoff flopping against Detroit. He detailed how Brunson whipped his head back on minimal contact, hooked defenders’ arms, and threw himself into bodies to force whistles. It became the main storyline of the series.
The stats back it up. In the 2025 postseason, Brunson attempted 141 free throws in 18 games, an average of 7.8 per game, according to StatMuse and Basketball Reference. The typical NBA guard averages around 4 free throw attempts in the playoffs. Brunson nearly doubled the baseline. In the first round alone, he opened the series by averaging 10.5 free throw attempts. It is effective, but it is also the type of thing that makes opposing fans want to gently walk into traffic.
Before I go any further, here is the counterargument Knicks fans would want acknowledged. They would say that celebrating a 51-win season makes sense for a franchise that spent two decades trapped in mediocrity. They would say a first-round win is real progress and that their passion is what makes them loyal fans. And there is truth to that. A 51-win team is good for any organization, and celebrating steps forward is part of what makes sports fun. But here is the problem. Knicks fans do not celebrate these moments like progress. They celebrate them like coronations. That gap between accomplishment and reaction is what makes everyone else lose their minds.
Especially when the joy never matches the results. Knicks fans celebrate everything because they have been starved of actual playoff success for so long that anything counts. A small winning streak. A free throw advantage. A regular-season victory over a resting team. It all becomes another moment to claim they are back.
When the Knicks finally have a genuinely good season, it still becomes a crisis. New York Magazine pointed this out in April 2025, noting how Knicks fans spent the entire 51-win season miserable. The team finished 51-31, their best record since 2012 to 2013. They had two All-NBA level players and one of the deepest rosters in the East. Yet fans complained that it did not feel like enough. The vibes were off. The expectations were too high. Only Knicks fans could have their best season in a decade and still talk like the world was ending.
This contradiction defines them. They want championships but celebrate tiny accomplishments like titles. They call 51 wins disappointing, but treat one playoff series like a national landmark. They lose in the second round and blame officials, the coach, the league, or whatever else they can find. It is not malicious. It is a fanbase trapped between hope and heartbreak for so long that they no longer know how to respond to anything.
And it spills into the rivalry. Boston competes for real titles and makes real postseason runs. The Knicks build hope and narratives instead of sustainable success. For Celtics fans, the rivalry is funny. It is not Celtics vs Lakers or Celtics vs Bucks. It is something the Knicks fanbase created because they needed someone to measure themselves against. When they beat Boston once in May, they act like they toppled a dynasty.
So if you are a Celtics fan like me, the best survival method is simple: laugh. Laugh at the flopping. Laugh at the street celebrations. Laugh at how a 51-win season becomes both a parade and a crisis. Laugh because this is sports fandom in its purest, most chaotic form.
But also laugh because we know the truth. Knicks fans celebrate nothing because nothing meaningful has happened for them in a very long time, and deep down, they know it too.