Friendship couldn’t get in the way of Knicks’ window

You’re a fan, and so you choose to adopt the players who wear your preferred uniforms. Maybe you even pay for the privilege of wearing their jerseys and numbers (although in truth it’s YOU doing THEM the privilege). When they age out, it’s hard to watch. When they get injured, even harder. 

When they’re traded away? 

The first reaction is a natural one. You’re sad. You’re wistful. You’re instantly nostalgic. And for the most part, that’s for people you’ve never met. 

Think about the teammates they leave behind. 

Think of Julius Randle, who was the first brick in a Knicks revival that will take another step forward starting Tuesday, when they gather in Charleston, S.C., to begin training camp. Remember how welcoming he was when the Knicks signed Jalen Brunson, how he showed up in Philly for Game 6 of the playoffs last year in civvies and was greeted warmly. 

And, yes: Think of Donte DiVincenzo, who so enjoyed playing again last year with his old Villanova running mates, Brunson and Josh Hart, and who seemed equally jazzed that Mikal Bridges was joining the reunion tour this year (even if it likely would’ve meant fewer minutes and fewer shots for him). 

Now, they are ex-teammates, even if the Knicks couldn’t officially talk that way, even as Karl-Anthony Towns arrived for the first time at the MSG Training Facility in Tarrytown Monday morning. Leon Rose broke up the band, with the idea that Towns is the Knicks’ Ringo Starr, giving them a key upgrade over Pete Best. 

Such is life in the NBA. 

“You love it,” Hart said. “And you hate it.” 

“I had a dad who played for eight teams as a non-guaranteed player,” Brunson said. “I found out right away that the NBA is a business.” 

Like you, on the first day they gathered to suit up and take pictures in their uniforms, most of the Knicks seemed wistful about the departed. But there was also a sense of understanding: The ceiling is higher now, which is good because the expectations haven’t been quite this high in the new millennium. 

As one veteran league executive said, laughing: “The Knicks have to look at it like a shark does. A shark keeps moving because when he stops, he dies.” 

Soon they will, probably as soon as Tuesday, when maybe they can acknowledge that they have a new teammate instead of coyly saying, like Brunson: “Who’s Karl?” 

“We’re extremely confident in what have,” Hart said, before adding with a smile: “Officially and unofficially.” 

It’s the only way to go and the only way to think. There is no doubt that last year’s Knicks teams stole a lot of hearts in and around New York City. They were a galvanizing force. They made basketball matter again to an extreme that we hadn’t felt around here in a long time. We emptied the thesaurus searching for adjectives to describe them. 

Gritty. 

Lunch-pail. 

Grinding. 

Overachieving. 

But you know the one word that didn’t apply? The one that matters most: “Champions.” 

Sure, we can speculate what might’ve happened in Game 7 against Indiana if OG Anunoby and Hart had been even 70 percent healthy. We can wonder what heights they might’ve reached if Randle hadn’t gotten hurt. And that is all before you remember that Brunson would’ve missed the rest of the year anyway after breaking his hand in Game 7. 

The harsh truth was this: Last season’s Knicks weren’t as good as the Celtics. The version of these Knicks that were planning to assemble together before Friday, plus Bridges but minus Hartenstein? Not as good. And maybe it will turn out that Towns won’t be the final piece of a contending puzzle. 

But they had to try. The window was open. Hard choices have to be made. And the players understand. But they aren’t statues, either. They feel. 

“Donte was a groomsman in my wedding,” Brunson said. “That should tell you everything you need to know. I love him to death.” 

But business is business. And the bottom line is the bottom line.