SAN ANTONIO – The NBA’s defending champions required five regular season games and seven Western Conference Finals bashfests to suss out San Antonio’s Spurs, failed.

The Knicks needed but three quarters. Another dynamite fourth quarter from Knick hero Jalen Brunson gave New York its first Finals lead in a over a half-century on Wednesday night, toppling San Antonio 105-95 in Game 1 of the 2026 NBA Finals.

That previous Finals advantage, a 4-1 victory over the Los Angeles Lakers in the 1973 NBA Finals, was celebrated by Knick reserve center Phil Jackson on a beach at Malibu with an unnamed actress, according to Phil’s book ‘Maverick,’ Jackson “gobbling LSD for breakfast.”

Brunson (and Knicks coach Mike Brown, for that matter) appeared to show little instinct toward toward Phil’s breakfast of champions after Game 1, giving every indication these current Knicks keep these sainted Spurs in sensible range.

And within the same level as previous combatants. We worried over the Knicks faltering against stiff Western competition after facing Atlanta, Philadelphia and Cleveland in the previous three rounds (Eh, Woof, and Whatever). We shoulda concerned ourselves with whether or not San Antonio was ready for the team that only needed 14 outings to escape the East.

The visiting Knicks delicately primed past the restrictions of rust in the team’s first contest since May 25. New York was down 10 points in the second quarter and 14 in the third before colluding to surprise San Antonio in what the NBA calls “clutch minutes,” the final five minutes of a close game. Timing issues aside, it felt as if every second of Game 1 was crucially clutch, the utter and pristine picture of all-out NBA playoff basketball.

Brunson finished with 30 but was no angel on his way toward the mark, flinging lefty hopers over the arms of Victor Wembanyama, spinning out repeatedly on floaters and only using arms on in-and-out three-pointers. Those were practice legs, scrimmage flings, and Brunson (7-22 entering the third period, 5-9 from the floor in the final 12 minutes) needed every second surrounding him to re-locate his crouch.

Once the legs returned, though, over. Brunson’s corner three off a Mikal Bridges offensive rebound with 1:50 remaining gave New York a 97-95 lead, all the grasp it needed. Rust was absolutely an issue, for these visiting Knicks, now they’ll band together to earn a full endorsement deal with an anti-rust spray, we won’t name any brands because we’re not sponsored ourselves, but watch for “polyurethane resins” to be uttered by Jose Alvarado on an advertisement sometime this summer.

Alvarado helped keep the visitor’s wits throughout, his presence was badly needed in the second quarter when Brunson turned his ankle and left the game. Alvarado, perhaps buoyed by Brunson bounding over with both legs to complain to Scott Foster during the injury timeout, hit 3-of-3 from the field in his run, seven points, three defensive boards and an assist and a steal, because he’s Jose Alvarado.

Bothered by foul trouble, Josh Hart barely worked that second quarter. Josh made up for it.

In one of the finest three-point performances in NBA Finals history, Hart’s derring-do stole the home court advantage right out from Texas’ ten-gallon hat. Four steals and six assists from Hart, who covered all angles defensively while still sustaining his sniff for the passing lanes. His shot was off (1-5 from the field, 0-3 from deep) but he was in the right place in every other instance, a superior all-around performance, even if his jumper doesn’t go all the way around.

The home team failed to clasp past 100 points per 100 possessions, the Spurs missed three-quarters of their threes and wasted a four-turnover game, and 15-point first half from Julian Champagnie. Wembanyama was a force defensively but missed 16-21 field goal attempts on his way toward 26 points, a dozen boards and six turnovers, three blocks.

De’Aaron Fox clunked 3-13 from the field on one leg. The veteran developed good looks in the fourth quarter, missed, while Dylan Harper (16 points and seven rebounds through three quarters) watched from the bench. Devin Vassell and Keldon Johnson, cherished Spurs veterans but a little hype in Game 1, somewhat charged, possibly caffeinated, 5-15 from the floor combined.

It was a learning experience. Fans talked themselves into shouting “Spurs in five” on the way out of the building in Game 1 and, yeah, it ain’t hard to see what’s under that hat. San Antonio does have a seven-and-a-half-foot center with skills, after all.

Yet New York proved none of this counts if the center in question is centimeters removed from what matters, the best attempt available, a Knick splash. New York missed 25-36 three-pointers in Game 1, but its concentration and approach was apparent from the rafters. If Wemby is slightly out of focus, dive to the rim as if the season depends on it. The Knicks are to be commended for maintaining a straight line to the rim anytime Wembanyama was bothered elsewhere, held or held up, New York launching the millisecond his fingertips were no obstacle.

These moments usually require hours to develop, entire games. The Thunder ran out of time, the Timberwolves rarely earned the pause, the Trail Blazers never even caught up to Central time. Yet New York kept its principles in place throughout Game 1 until these fundamentals found paydirt. Until the legs returned, finally out of Connecticut’s practice sweats for the first time in over a week.

The Spurs understand what they have to do now, yet that knowledge was in place well ahead of Game 1. It’s the connection which counts the most, and San Antonio must find out who its conductor is.

New York knows. This is Brunson’s team, the Villanova cats with two battling bigs. Karl-Anthony Towns put himself on the floor throughout Game 1, 18 points and 18 chestbumps with Wemby while defending Victor. Front-to-front stuff, too, the awkward kind.

KAT and Mitchell Robinson’s mystery finger were, in spite of Victor’ 12-13 mark from the free throw line, a bruise-in-waiting for Wembanyama to push through. The Knicks are thick up top and soulful down below and full of brains and wit throughout the middle.

The Spurs are running out of time to define their own personalities, as the showcase in Manhattan draws nearer. The younger team is capable, but can they hold in the face of a crew which doesn’t crack?

Kelly Dwyer covers the NBA at KDonhoops.com