At Madison Square Garden, everything the Knicks had been building seemed to come together. Jalen Brunson’s belief. Josh Hart’s edge. OG Anunoby’s steadiness. Mikal Bridges’ reliability. Karl-Anthony Towns finding his place. When Anunoby’s tip-in completed the comeback, it felt like the moment the Knicks finally took hold of the identity they had been chasing.

To me, it felt like the greatest Knicks moment I had ever watched. The Knicks showed us they could do this time and time again, in Boston last year, twice, in Cleveland in the 4th quarter, and finally, in The World’s Most Famous Arena, on June 10th, 2026.

As a Knicks fan from Puerto Rico, this was my favorite sports moment ever. Let’s not forget that Jose Alvarado had 8 points in the 4th quarter and dominated as a second ball handler to help the Knicks in this moment. But as an aspiring sports journalist, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to be there and cover it. Mike Vaccaro, a lead columnist for The New York Post and St. Bonaventure alumnus, lived every journalist’s dream and did just that.

Last night, as part of the master’s degree I am pursuing at St. Bonaventure, I had the opportunity to ask Vaccaro about that moment through an Alumni Masterclass. I thought I was asking him what it felt like to witness history. Instead, his answer taught me less about the Knicks and more about what it takes to become the kind of writer who can capture a moment like that.

Dr. Brian Moritz started the conversation by asking Vaccaro about Game 4 and when he thought the Knicks had truly found their identity during the run. Vaccaro pointed to Game 4 in Atlanta, when Towns finally settled into the offense, not just as a scorer, but as a facilitator. The Knicks only lost one game after that.

Then, the conversation shifted to what finding your voice really means in journalism.

Vaccaro told us that however much we are reading now, we need to double it. Read writers you love and writers you do not. Study what works. Study what does not. Let other voices inspire you, but do not copy them.

More than anything, he emphasized reporting.

“Do as much reporting as you can,” Vaccaro said. “Talk to the players, the people, whoever you can.”

Then came the part that stuck with me most.

“Take snapshots with your eyes,” Vaccaro said. “Find the right analogy. Express it as best as you can.”

That made voice feel less mysterious to me. It is not just about having clever sentences or strong opinions. It is about noticing enough, asking enough and caring enough to have something real to say.

Then, peer and fellow journalist, Rob McLamb, asked: “How do I keep moving forward, even when rejected so many times?” I wondered the same. Vaccaro’s answer was simple: you cannot be afraid of failure. It is where you learn.

Success, he said, takes reps.

I couldn’t help but think, life can be just like basketball. I was taken back to last week, as Jalen Brunson had a similar answer when rookie Kon Knueppel asked him what it took to win: “I think the one thing that stays constant with all that is I’ve always told myself and always been taught by my parents to never be afraid to fail. If you do fail, you’re going to learn anyway.”

Maybe that is why the lesson landed so hard. Vaccaro told us not to forget to be fans. Writing, like basketball, rewards the people willing to keep showing up after they miss.

That message connected the masterclass back to the larger lesson Vaccaro returned to throughout the discussion: good writing is built through repetition, reporting and resilience.

Dr. Denny Wilkins also pushed the conversation toward the role of editors, asking: “How should young journalists think about revision?” Vaccaro said the best editors are the ones who want to make writers even better than they want to be themselves. Before worrying about style, he said, writers need to “get to the point, make the point, and then worry about writing.”

That might be the simplest way to understand what Vaccaro was teaching us. Voice does not come first. Work does.

You report. You read. You fail. You revise. You do it again. Eventually, if you have paid close enough attention, the writing starts to sound like you.

For me, that was the real lesson of the Masterclass. I asked what it was like to sit inside Madison Square Garden for one of the greatest Knicks moments I had ever seen. I left thinking about what it takes to describe that moment well enough for someone else to feel it too.

Subscribe now