BIRMINGHAM, Mich. — The Pistons are known as one of the NBA’s toughest teams. That doesn’t mean the Knicks are Charmin soft. In fact, they believe the opposite.
Contrary to what’s said on social media or national television, the Knicks like to play physical. They don’t mind mixing it up. And just because they don’t have a textbook enforcer doesn’t mean they’re backing down from any fight.
“That’s one thing about us,” Josh Hart said after practice at Seaholm High School on Saturday, pausing with a chuckle. “I think we all like physicality, and we thrive in those kind of games and situations.”
Toughness became a major question after an action-packed offseason reshaped the Knicks’ roster — and their identity. Gone were Isaiah Hartenstein (to the Oklahoma City Thunder), Julius Randle, and Donte DiVincenzo (both traded to Minnesota for Karl-Anthony Towns). All three were known for their edge, their willingness to get in opponents’ faces.
In their place: a new cast, a new chemistry — and, inevitably, comparisons to last year’s gritty squad.
Even the front office seemed to recognize the shift. With the team’s final open roster spot, the Knicks signed veteran P.J. Tucker — a move less about on-court production and more about reinforcing toughness and playoff experience behind the scenes. Tucker hasn’t logged meaningful playoff minutes, but his voice and presence on the bench mirror the grit the Knicks refuse to let slip away.
Yet naturally, the temptation to compare this year’s team to last year’s group has followed them all season.
Hart, for one, isn’t interested in nostalgia.
“Comparison is the thief of joy. Like we’re gonna compare ourselves to last year for what?” he said. “We don’t got Donte, we don’t [have] Zay, we don’t got Ju, we don’t got Jericho. Like we don’t have any of those guys, and now we’ve got a totally different group and a totally different personality and identity.
“So if you continue to just look back and compare yourself to years prior and teams prior, you lose the perspective of what you have.
“And this team, we don’t care about the toughness because we feel like we have the toughness, but we also have the offensive firepower to go out there and put up 140. So it doesn’t really affect us.
“I just think it’s idiotic to compare us to the past, because we’re the New York Knicks of 2024-25, and it’s either you get behind us or you don’t — and if you’re not, stay on that side when we have success.”
The Pistons — and their rowdy fans — tested the Knicks’ toughness in Game 3. The Knicks know Detroit will ratchet it up even further in Game 4, desperate to avoid a 3-1 hole before the series shifts back to Madison Square Garden.
But the idea that the Knicks can’t match Detroit’s physicality — or even exceed it?
“They’re gonna play hard, but it’s the playoffs,” Mikal Bridges said Saturday. “I don’t know why [people think] we’re not bringing it equally as hard or more. So I don’t get that.”
The NBA thrives on rivalries, altercations, and off-court tension. It’s great for ratings. And when a team’s back is against the wall — like the Pistons, who can’t afford to lose another home game — things tend to get chippy fast.
“The NBA is a very petty world. The game’s petty. The league be petty at times,” Hart said. “They see what’s going on in the summer. Some two guys got beef, and then next thing you know, that’s opening night. As a whole in the league, you know, including myself, we’re very petty.
“A guy could have the ball, you smack the ball away, just to be annoying.
“But you know that. And our personality, we never really let that frustrate us or let that take us out of our game. I think the only time we really get outside of ourselves is when we’re yelling at refs and focusing on the things that we can’t control.
“So as long as we focus on our game and control what we can control, everything else is background noise.”
Whatever the Knicks are doing, it’s working. Pistons center Paul Reed described the feeling after practice on Saturday — not frustration, exactly, but a constant battle for real estate on the floor at Little Caesars Arena.
“Just like holding, pushing, making us work for every spot, every inch,” Reed told reporters. “We’re trying to catch the ball on the elbow, they’re pushing us out. I’m attacking the [glass], they’re holding me. I can’t really get loose.”
