Welcoming (Not So) Old Friends

Julius and Donte return to the Garden this weekend. Today we celebrate the power forward who once put the franchise on his back.

Good morning! On Sunday at 6pm, the Knicks will play the Timberwolves at MSG, leaving open the possibility that Julius Randle will make his Minnesota debut, and for the first time in five and a half years, wear a uniform that doesn’t say “NEW YORK” across the front. It will be a surreal moment if it happens.

Regardless of whether an on court reunion is in store or not, I didn’t want to let too much time pass without saying my part about Julius. As KFS readers, listeners and viewers know, I’ve had a complicated relationship with Randle over the years, such that I will never look at a paper plate the same way again.

Today though, I’ve got nothing but love for the man of the hour.

Thank You, Julius

When I was thinking about how to start off this farewell to one of the most fascinating Knicks of my lifetime, I couldn’t help but think of the symmetry of Julius Randle’s Knick career.

On June 30, 2019, hours after the organization’s best laid plans had been crumpled up like the cocktail napkin they were probably written on, I was recording a reaction podcast as news of Julius Randle’s signing broke. The contract - for three years and $62 million - was worrisome. Back then, that was a significant financial commitment for a player who had not even proven to be a full-time starter on a winning team.

So when more news trickled out that the third season on the deal contained a team option, I quite literally screamed with joy¹. I’m sure it came across as the ultimate insult to a player who had just averaged an efficient 21 & 9, but it was less about Randle and more about me forcing an ounce of victory into a day of defeat.

What was unmistakable about June 30 is that Julius Randle wasn’t the biggest story. Or the second biggest. Or even the 10th biggest. He was an afterthought - a symbol of where organizational ineptitude would get you if you weren’t savvy enough to realize you’re the sucker at the poker table.

That was just five years ago.

Today, the New York Knicks are viewed as one of the model organizations in the NBA. They have developed a culture that is build on accountable action, not the frivolous promises of past regimes. They have the third best odds to win the 2025 title, and in an era where financial constraints are closing contention windows before they’re even fully open, the Knicks figure to be in the hunt for at least the next four years. It is as stunning a turnaround as we’ve seen in modern professional sports history.

And Julius Randle was at the center of all of it.

Despite that incontrovertible fact, on the night he was shipped out of town, Julius was once again rendered an afterthought. Despite having the better resume when it comes to both All-NBA and All-Star appearances over the last five years, Randle’s name was secondary to Towns’ in every story about the deal. More than that, a great many fans consider Donte DiVincenzo to be the bigger loss, just as the Wolves seem to consider him the bigger gain. To the extent Randle has been discussed, the conversation is far more about his contract than his skill set.

It is almost as if the last five years never happened, and that he is the same player today as he was when New York signed him at the 11th hour in 2019 just to save face.

It is a cruel fate, and wholly undeserved. In his time as a Knick, Randle gave the organization everything he had. For as much as his on-court habits occasionally left something to be desired, no player put in more work or was more invested in the outcome. Thumbs Down-gate couldn’t have been perpetrated by a player whose heart wasn’t fully in it. His breakdowns only happened because of how much emotion had built up inside.

Maybe those broad shoulders gave a little too much room to the angel and demon constantly fighting for control. Inner peace always felt like a battle.

Players like this - those who bear it all and live to tell the tale - can be the ones fans connect with the most. They transform before our eyes from superheroes into people. We relate. We empathize. We feel.

I’m not sure that ever happened with Randle.

Sure, there has been a growing appreciation over the last few years as fans have taken to defending their guy against interlopers. I have to imagine that some small part of even his biggest critics are sad to see him go.

But I do not believe he was ever loved, at least not yet. Maybe his time will come. The adoration showered upon Patrick Ewing seems to grow by the year. Hell, Nate Robinson has become beloved. The further we get from someone, the more we forget why we had a complex relationship with them to begin with. Negativity fades. We recall history not as the events that were, but as the times we wished them to be.

Our recollection of Randle’s contribution to this journey will be worth something, but even that will eventually fade. It will not be the same as if he had stayed long enough to hoist a trophy with his own hands. Not even close.

In this vein, I thought recently about Walt Bellamy, who arrived to a Knicks team that finished 30-50 and departed one that lost to the eventual champion Celtics in the East Finals. Granted, his best days were behind him when he arrived in New York, and his stay was shorter and far less decorated than Randle’s, but Bellamy is a Hall-of-Fame player who made a pivotal contribution to this franchise, and all most people recall is that he was sent out in the trade that netted Dave DeBusschere. I hope and believe Randle will be remembered more fondly than Bellamy if the Knicks do eventually climb the mountaintop without him.

And if they don’t? Or if he wins it all with Minnesota or some other team?

The better question then is whether fans in New York would claim some small part of that title as their own, won on the back of a player who became who he was on our watch.

However Randle’s story ends, it probably won’t be what we expect. He’s made a habit of dispensing with convenient narratives since the day he arrived, going from disregarded to appreciated to reviled to reclaimed to admired, all in the span of five years.

The one thing we can say now is that whatever happens next, Randle leaves New York on top, making two consecutive All-Star teams while winning 59 percent of the games he played over the last two seasons. He sits among the franchise’s all-time top 20 in total points, rebounds and assists, and he’s the only Knick in history to rank in the top-25 for career averages in all three of those categories.

The numbers alone solidify him as one of the 10 most significant Knicks since the championship years, but even they don’t fully approximate his impact.

Leon Rose and Tom Thibideau were vital contributors to the u-turn following the disastrous ‘19-20 season, but that wagon full of role players needed a horse. In Julius, they found one.

By winning Most Improved, leading the NBA in minutes, making 2nd Team All-NBA, finishing 8th in MVP voting, and becoming one of six (now seven) players ever to average 24, 10 & 6 in the same season, Randle helped engineer an unfathomable turnaround, taking New York from a team with the lowest preseason over/under in the league to home court in the first round. That season alone cemented him in Knick lore forever.

It was also arguably the worst thing that ever happened to him. Randle raised the franchise’s bar so high and so fast that they’ve been chasing a way to step up in weight class ever since. Once Jalen Brunson came aboard and gave New York a top option that looked and felt more sustainable, the questions turned to whether Julius could thrive as a No. 2. With each new import, concerns about his fit only grew louder. The guy who was once the only Knick worth paying attention to now hogged the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.

And now he is gone, replaced by someone who checks more boxes but who has a long way to go to approximate Randle’s grit, toughness and tenacity.

As imperfect as he was, he was ours, and in some ways he always will be.

Thanks for taking the job when no one else wanted it.

You knocked it out of the park.

🏀

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

1. This podcast still exists somewhere out in the ether, but fuck if I know how to find it.