Margaret's Musing: A Championship 53 Years in the Making

Hi all, Bruce here.

While Margaret recovers from successful back surgery, I volunteered to write a guest musing. First, thank you to everyone who has sent well wishes. Margaret promises she'll be back at the helm of these missives soon. In the meantime...

A Championship 53 Years in the Making

My fondest childhood memories of my dad revolve around sports.

A Cuban immigrant who arrived in the United States at age 15, my father was the hardest worker I've ever known, often working seven days a week. But when he wasn't working, he loved New York sports. Summer belonged to the Mets. Fall Sundays belonged to the Giants. Winter belonged to the Knicks.

Sadly, for most of my youth, those teams were awful.

That never stopped my dad from watching, and I was always by his side. A man of relatively few words, sports became one of our primary forms of communication. Dad often reminded me that he knew I was born on a Sunday because the Giants blew a 10-0 lead to the Cowboys and lost 28-10 that afternoon. My dad hated the Cowboys.

I never watched a New York team win a championship with my dad. I was only three when the Knicks won in 1973. By the time the Mets and Giants won in 1986, my parents were divorced and I was living in Maine with my mother while Dad remained in New York. In 1990, I was away at college when the Giants won the Super Bowl. Those were our only four opportunities before he passed away in 2002.

Though I haven't lived in NY since 1982, the love of New York sports my father passed down never left, despite always living in hostile territory: Maine during the Larry Bird era, Chicago while Michael Jordan routinely broke Knicks' hearts, Los Angeles during multiple Lakers and Dodgers championships, and now Dallas, in the shadow of the evil Cowboys empire.

When my son Cole was born in 2004, I happily indoctrinated him into New York sports. Passing my father's sporting passions to the grandson he never met felt like keeping our family tree alive and growing.

In a bit of symmetry, the Giants won a Super Bowl when Cole was three, just as the Knicks had when I was that age. When he was seven, the Giants won another. By then, he knew every starter on the Knicks, Giants, and Mets. He had already experienced two titles before his eighth birthday, just one fewer than I had seen in my first 37 years.

His cup runneth over.

Unfortunately, that Giants championship proved to be the last. Despite hundreds of games watched together, both on television and in person whenever our teams came to Los Angeles, the cup runneth dry...for the next fifteen years.

During that stretch, a fellow long-suffering New York fan told me about taking his son to the Giants' Super Bowl victory in 2011. He said sharing that experience was one of the greatest moments of their lives. I promised myself that if one of our teams ever played for a championship again, I would do everything possible to attend with Cole.

Cole at 10, about to be disappointed before a Knicks game.

Fast forward to June 2026.

Against all odds, the Knicks had reached the NBA Finals and stood on the brink of their first championship in 53 years. Against even longer odds, the first five games coincided with the Raymond James Chairman's Council trip, an annual gathering of senior executives and select advisors. This year's destination was a cruise through Italy, Greece, and Croatia.

Before leaving, I assumed I'd be home before the series ended. The Knicks were heavy underdogs against the powerhouse Spurs, and a Knicks sweep or win in five games seemed unlikely. The games tipped off at 2:30 a.m. local time in Europe, so I prepared myself for several sleepless nights given I had early meetings and excursions each day of my trip.

Then the Knicks won the first two games... in San Antonio, no less.

I had packed three Knicks shirts and wore them proudly on excursions. In Rome, Corfu, and Montenegro, complete strangers congratulated me. At the same time, I began to worry. What if the series ended in four or five games? I'd be half a world away from Cole.

Oddly, I almost felt relief when the Knicks lost Game 3.

The next day, while on an excursion, I happened to mention my predicament to our CEO, Paul Shoukry. He told me he was leaving the trip early to attend his son's Little League tournament.

Going home for Little League? The CEO?

That brief conversation reminded me why Raymond James is such a special place. Family first and client first aren't slogans. They are our culture.

That evening I attended a dinner hosted by Tash Elwyn, President of RJ Private Client Group. Tash encouraged me to find a way to get to Game 5 if the Knicks won Game 4, even though it would mean missing two days of a conference funded from his own budget.

Culture!

As an aside, Tash is also the creator of an outstanding BBQ rub called Lard Almighty. Highly recommended: https://www.lardalmighty.com/

Game 4 tipped off at 2:30 a.m. The Knicks quickly fell behind. At halftime they trailed by 27 points.

My wife, Lise, who had impressively stayed up with me, headed to bed. The diehard fan in me could not.

Thank goodness.

Somehow the Knicks clawed their way back and cut the deficit to one point with 5.7 seconds remaining. During the final timeout, Cole and I shared a quick prayer over FaceTime. I shook Lise awake.

• Then the impossible happened.
• OG Anunoby’s tip-in dropped through with 1.2 seconds remaining. The Knicks won by one point, completing the largest comeback in NBA Finals history.

Apparently, my celebration was loud enough for Scott to hear from the neighboring cabin.

• I immediately called Cole back and told him to find a plane ticket.
• We were going to the Finals!!!

The next 48 hours were a blur.

• I booked a last-minute journey from Croatia to Texas just as the World Cup crowds were beginning to move across Europe.
• The only itinerary I could find was Split to London,
• a 12-hour layover,
• then Charlotte,
• Dallas,
• Austin, and Cole met us in Austin
• finally, a 90-minute drive to San Antonio.

Cole, Lise, and I before tipoff

As you all know, the Knicks WON Game 5.

The memory of sharing that night with my son, and with Lise, who somehow embraced this entire adventure, is one I will cherish forever.

And as I watched the final seconds tick away, I couldn't help but think that somewhere, my dad was watching too.

Here’s a quick video clip of the winning moments in case you are interested. Even my usually composed wife was excited:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6Mq8n_sR0M

Thanks for reading! Watch this space for Margaret’s return!