Category: Sports News

Shams Charania fired back at now-former Bucks coach Doc Rivers while appearing on “The Pat McAfee Show on Monday, dropping the gauntlet down that he just documents “the news and the truth can hurt sometimes.” 

The NBA insider was discussing where the Bucks will go after a disastrous season concluded on Sunday with a loss to the 76ers, when Charania pushed back at those who have questioned his reporting.

“The reality of everything in Milwaukee is this, if they spent as much time dealing with their own internal dynamics and problems as they do responding to accurate reports, they wouldn’t be in the mess that they’re in right now,” he said. 

“I got one more for you. I’ve been watching documentaries from time to time, I saw one on Fyre Festival, and so the part we’re at right now is everyone wants to run and you’re doing the cover-up,” Charania added. “Again, it’s totally fine, I’m just here to document and cover it the right way. I feel like we’ve done an unbelievable job tracking everything. At the end of the day, the last month and a half we’ve seen it.” 

Charania reported earlier this month on the internal issues going on during the season in Milwaukee, which included the persistent speculation around star Giannis Antetokounmpo. 

"The reality of everything in Milwaukee is this…

If they spent as much time dealing with their own internal problems as they did responding to accurate reports they wouldn't be in the mess that they're in right now" ~ @ShamsCharania#PMSLivehttps://t.co/r9gaw2CBx5pic.twitter.com/sVjKAq4Vxz

— Pat McAfee (@PatMcAfeeShow) April 13, 2026

It also detailed a March 1 team meeting where Rivers challenged his players and told them to look up his résumé.

Rivers had taken shots at Charania during an appearance on “Run It Back” on FanDuel Sports Network – a show Charania had been a part of in the past – on Friday. 

“Shams wrote an article that was so inaccurate that I don’t have enough time to go into it,” River said. “He talked about a locker room thing and I was laughing like, ‘yeah, we had a tough locker room day.’ We lost to the Chicago Bulls with a 20-point lead. I showed clips the next day of guys who were screwing up. That’s what happens in a locker room. The first thing I thought was, ‘Where’s Woj? I miss [Adrian Wojnarowski] so much.'”

Rivers also questioned Charania’s sourcing in the story and appeared to allege that the insider had written the story as payback for a joke the coach made about him during NBA All-Star Weekend. Rivers said Antetokounmpo should have traded him from his celebrity team, a quip the team’s social media department ran with, much to Charania’s reported dismay.

“I just report the news,” Charania said on Monday. “I just document the news and the truth can hurt sometimes 100 percent. I stand by my reporting to the 10th degree, like 100 percent.” 

If you go looking through the Knicks’ biggest playoff rivals, the Hawks aren’t the first matchup that comes to mind. They’re not Miami, they’re not Indiana, and they haven’t been a consistent playoff opponent at all. In fact, it’s a pretty rare matchup. But when these two teams do meet in the postseason, it usually ends up reflecting exactly where the Knicks are as a franchise in that moment. There have only been three playoff matchups between the Knicks and the Hawks, and each one sits in a completely different era, with a completely different identity behind it.

The first matchup between the two teams came in 1971, when the Knicks were at the height of their powers. This was a championship-caliber team, built on structure, depth, and discipline, and they approached the series against Atlanta the way great teams typically do when facing an opponent they are simply better than. The Knicks won the series 4-1 to move on to the Eastern Conference Finals. This was a team loaded with five players whose jerseys now hang in the Garden rafters, led by Walt Frazier and Dick Barnett, and they controlled the series from start to finish. Even when games got competitive, it never really felt like the outcome was in doubt. New York controlled pace, executed consistently, and imposed its style over the course of the series.

The numbers tell part of it, but the feel of that series says even more. The Knicks averaged 110 points per game, with Walt Frazier leading the way at 25.6 a night while doing a little bit of everything. Dick Barnett gave them another 22 per game. Inside, Willis Reed and Dave DeBusschere controlled the paint, combining for over 30 rebounds per game and setting the physical tone that Atlanta couldn’t match. It was not about individual brilliance as much as it was about collective reliability. That Knicks team knew exactly who it was, and Atlanta did not have the personnel or cohesion to disrupt that.

Nearly three decades later, the two teams met again in 1999, and this series carries far more weight when viewed in context. The Knicks entered that postseason as an 8 seed in a lockout-shortened season, having gone just 27-23 in the regular season. Expectations were minimal, and their first-round matchup against the top-seeded Miami Heat was widely viewed as a formality. Instead, the Knicks pulled off one of the most memorable upsets in franchise history, winning that series in five games and completely shifting the trajectory of their season. Waiting for them in the second round was Atlanta, a team that had finished 31-19 and was considered far more stable and complete at that point in time.

The Knicks had already adjusted to life without Patrick Ewing before the playoffs. This wasn’t a team scrambling to replace him, it was a team that had already evolved. Marcus Camby brought a completely different dynamic with his length, mobility, and defensive activity, anchoring a more aggressive and disruptive approach. He didn’t just fill a role, he changed the energy. His weakside shot blocking, quick rotations, and ability to cover ground gave the Knicks a defensive presence that felt everywhere at once, and when he got going, the Garden felt it. The rejections at the rim, the putback slams, the transition finishes, it all brought a level of electricity that fed into the team’s identity. On both ends, Camby made the game feel faster, more chaotic, and more alive, and Atlanta never adjusted to it.

Offensively, the Knicks were led by Allan Houston and Latrell Sprewell, with Sprewell averaging 22.5 points per game and Houston adding 18. The offense controlled the pace, but it was the defense that dictated the series, leading to a second-round sweep of the Hawks.

That sweep wasn’t just another series win, it was a continuation of one of the most improbable runs in franchise history. As an 8 seed, the Knicks weren’t supposed to be there, and they definitely weren’t supposed to dominate a higher-seeded Hawks team the way they did. Instead, they stayed in control, carried their momentum from Miami, and moved straight through to the Eastern Conference Finals. From there, the run kept building, all the way to the NBA Finals, marking the franchise’s first appearance on that stage since 1994.

After 1999, the matchup disappeared again for more than two decades, as the two franchises moved through different cycles without ever aligning in the postseason. It was not until 2021 that they met for the third time, and this series carried a very different kind of significance. The Knicks entered the playoffs as the 4 seed in the Eastern Conference after a 41-31 season, marking their first postseason appearance since 2013. More importantly, they entered with a renewed identity under Tom Thibodeau, built around defense, physicality, and the emergence of Julius Randle as an All-NBA level player. Madison Square Garden, limited in capacity but fully engaged, provided an atmosphere that felt like a reintroduction of playoff basketball to New York.

Game 1 immediately shifted the tone of the series and added Trae Young to the list of Garden villains. Tie game, under 10 seconds left, ball in his hands. He waves off the screen, drives straight down the middle, freezes the defense just enough, and floats it in with 0.9 seconds left. No panic, no rush, just complete control in the biggest moment of the night. Atlanta stole a 107-105 win, but it felt bigger than just one game. That moment set the tone for the entire series. It gave Atlanta confidence, put the Knicks on their heels, and from there, the series steadily tilted in Atlanta’s favor.

Julius Randle, who had been the focal point of the Knicks’ offense throughout the regular season, struggled to find efficiency against Atlanta’s defensive schemes. The Hawks consistently sent help, crowded his space, and forced him into difficult shot attempts, disrupting both his rhythm and the overall flow of the Knicks’ offense. As a result, New York found itself relying on contested looks and late-clock possessions, unable to generate consistent scoring opportunities. Atlanta, on the other hand, maintained balance and execution. They spaced the floor effectively, created quality looks through pick-and-roll action, and received timely contributions from multiple players. Each time the Knicks appeared close to building momentum, Atlanta responded quickly, preventing any sustained shift in control.

The series returned to Madison Square Garden for Game 5 with the Knicks facing elimination, and while the energy remained present, the outcome increasingly felt inevitable. Atlanta closed out the series with a 103-89 win, taking it 4-1 and ending what had been a promising season for New York. The loss was not just about the result, but about how it unfolded. It exposed limitations, highlighted the difficulty of adjusting within a series, and underscored how quickly a playoff matchup can turn once control is lost early.

Looking at the full history, the Knicks have won two of the three playoff series between the teams, taking the matchups in 1971 and 1999, while the Hawks claimed the most recent meeting in 2021. Each series reflects a different version of the Knicks. In 1971, they were a championship team executing at a high level. In 1999, they were a resilient, adaptive group that found a new identity under pressure and made an unexpected run to the Finals. In 2021, they were a team on the rise that encountered a moment it was not fully prepared to handle.

Now, with another opening round matchup set for this Saturday evening at the Garden for Game 1, the focus isn’t so much on the history between these two teams, but on what this round represents for the Knicks.

Over the past two seasons, they’ve taken clear steps forward, from a hard-fought second-round exit to last year’s Eastern Conference Finals appearance. With that kind of progression, expectations have shifted. This is no longer just about competing, it’s about breaking through.

That’s what makes this first round feel different. It’s the starting point of a run that needs to go further than it has the last two years. Knicks fans aren’t just hoping for another deep playoff push, they’re expecting one.

It was weird getting to zone out last night.

Over the years I’ve been pretty open about my tendency to do this when the game gets out of hand for the Spurs, but (for the most part) I just wasn’t able to disengage like that this season.

That is, I think, one of the biggest compliments that I can give this Spurs team, after years of spending 4^th quarters trying to brainstorm new ways to write about losses.

Sure, when I started writing for the site back in 2018, I would have to write about the occasional loss, but it almost felt like a novelty after so many years of watching the Spurs win so many games.

I had no way of knowing what I’d gotten myself into, even though my very first article ended up being about Kawhi’s exit.

The thing is, you can read about Icarus, and The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire, and the sacking of Babylon, and still not really comprehend the free-fall until you’re in it. There’s something about the immediacy of human experience that insulates us from fully grasping how vulnerable we all are, especially at the highest of highs.

In 2018 the Spurs were just four years removed from the most astonishing title in franchise history. The seven years between titles had felt like an eternity.

Now, it’s hard to grasp that it’s been twelve years. I mean, the Spurs were one year shy of going seven years without seeing the postseason, much less a title.

Somehow, the prosperity of this year feels like it has compressed all of that time into something that feels infinitely more brief. It’s strange how a good thing can almost banish the visceral eternity of a more difficult time. Odd how it can effortlessly alter the atmosphere of memory.

It’s one of the most fascinating aspects of mortal recollection that we have this bizarre way of romanticizing the past in the glow of a better present. We talk about the good times in the context of the bad times.

[smiling] “Remember how bad that was?!”

[laughing] “Oh yeah, that was terrible!”

I suppose the contrast is a necessary part of appreciation. I certainly have appreciated this Spurs season more than a great many that were arguably just as prosperous.

I remember having the great privilege of seeing my daughter being born. It was a long, arduous labor to an extent that words can hardly do it justice, and then, suddenly, it was over.

It was almost frightening how quickly things moved once our child was out in the world. The span in which the child was handed to her mother, and then to me, felt like it moved in milliseconds, though I know it must have been much longer.

I can distinctly remember wondering if time itself had sped up as I severed the umbilical cord in what felt like mere moments after she’d been delivered. Nothing prepares you for the immediacy of the event. I’m not sure that anything ever could.

It’s not unlike the way this Spurs season feels like it has materialized. We’ve all been witness to the labor and the difficulty and even knowing what was on the other end of it, somehow it still feels like a surprise.

The Spurs won 62 games. I had them marked down for 50ish at the start of the season, and I was one of the more optimistic ones.

62 wins is tied for the 3^rd most wins in franchise history. The Spurs are the #2 seed in the West, and were clear of #3 by eight wins. They’re just the 3^rd team in NBA history to increase their win total by 40+ wins in a two-year span. They tied the franchise record for wins on the road with 30.

When did this all happen?! It feels like one-minute I was writing about 16 and 18 game losing streaks, and patience, and deep vein thrombosis, and then suddenly this monster of a team materialized, and I spent almost every game glued to my television set because it honestly felt like they could win any and all of them, no matter how far behind they were.

I get that I’ve been writing about them the whole time that changes have been occurring, but it’s kind of the like the gulf between knowing that your child is roughly the size of a watermelon during the final month of pregnancy and then seeing that kid pop right out in front of you.

Maybe it’s just one of the limits of our finite cognizance; that knowledge is both limited and expanded by the relative immediacy of presence. Not so much ‘out of sight out of mind’ as ‘a bird in hand’ is very viscerally a bird in your hand.

I think all the time about how humanity is so very awful at both existing in and fully appreciating the moment. The miracle of birth feels like one of the rare times that nothing else interferes, nothing else distracts, nothing else takes precedence.

It’s an intense event because of how present we are; something that the modern zeitgeist has proliferated into countless courses and methods in pursuit of it.

I’ve been thinking about this for almost two weeks now. I thought about it last night, as the final quarters of the Spurs’ final loss of regular season ticked away, and my twitter feed gradually turned to despair and anxiety.

I thought about it at Easter, as I watched my daughter and her cousins blithely frolic on the gargantuan playground that I’d helped my parents install in their backyard two winters ago.

It’s a brutal truth that we’re always loving things through delay.

Augustine, the Bishop of Hippo, once broke down the present into three categories: Memory, the present of things past. Attention, the present of things present. And Expectation, the present of things future.

In that philosophical vision of reality, only one of the three consists of the actual, immediate present – we must otherwise define it by reference. And it seems fitting that one of the ways in which we experience the present is through the root of all heartache (expectation).

We will never be happier than we are now, until later. We will never be unhappier, until the moment that it passes. We hyperbolize and catastrophize, and ache in the delay.

I’m gazing off into the middle distance with my television muted and a music app playing loudly over the silence, as the Spurs go through the motions of the final moments of the final regular season game, in a display that serves as a commentary on the lack of precariousness that the season has provided, and suddenly a children’s song comes on, the algorithmic remainder of a time when car rides consisted of nursery rhymes and lullabies.

In an instant, my daughter materializes in front of me, tottering in a way that she’s well beyond now.

She’s not even two yet, bouncing at the knees in the way that toddlers mimic dance, singing her best version of ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’, lisps and all. She wants my approval, the words that convey pride. She needs them in the way that she’ll never stop needing them from someone.

She’s smiling at me, and I hope it never ends. I know that it both will and never will. Everything ends and never ends and keeps on ending and not ending.

Memory is an eternity and an instant, and I want to remember every moment. I want to notice everything and carry it away. We all contain the multitudes of daughters dancing now and in memory.

The season was a miracle and a tragedy. A miracle in the way it unfolded. A tragedy in the way that I will never experience it anew. And it’s still not over.

Be present for it. Present for it all. And Go Spurs, Go!

Takeaways

• Carter Bryant may have gone 1-7 from three last night, but man are the flashes starting to come hard and fast with the minutes he’s getting. I don’t think it’s possible to bottle the feeling I had watching him dunk all over Nikola Jokic near the end of the 1st quarter, but I’d almost be willing to watch the entire loss all over again just to experience the shiver than went up my spine when he did it, or the hyper-athletic pair of blocks he had on Curtis Jones and David Roddy barely a minute later. There’s still some inconsistency from long-range, which is understandable, but much like Steph Castle and Dylan Harper, Bryant is actually shooting over 40% from three over the last ten games, so give shooting coach Jimmy Baron his flowers, because he’s done incredible work with multiple budding players on San Antonio’s roster this year.
• I have to admit, I didn’t love the Spurs playing Castle and Harper if MATFO’s intention was to mail this game in like Ted Kaczynski. Outside of Wemby, the thing that makes this team so lethal is the way it can mix and match guards in any scheme and phase of the game. At any given moment, the Spurs have multiple star-caliber guards sharing the back-court, harassing the opposition and darting down lanes like the Roadrunner bolts through canyons. Thankfully Harper only sustained a thumb injury to the point of being listed as ‘day-to-day’, but that could have been disastrous, as the bench in particular (as well as Keldon Johnson) just does not function at their absolute best without him. The Spurs are going to need to be able to lean into their depth as a postseason advantage, even without accruing further injuries, so that felt like a miss from the coaching staff. Still, I understand that you have to play somebody.
• I think this might really be it for Bismack Biyombo after this season. After looking pretty creaky last year, I assumed he’d pretty much reached his basement as a player, but he somehow looked even more immobile this season, to the point that I felt confused at to why he was even on the roster. I understand that there are players you keep around because they’re good for the team, but the Spurs absolutely have to upgrade at the 3rd big man spot this off-season. Whether in the draft or in free-agency, it should be a pretty low asset cost to exceed the degrading skill of Biyombo and Mason Plumlee, and with both Wemby and Kornet missing some games this season (separately and together), it’s a point of clear need.
• I’m a big fan of De’Aaron Fox, and am usually in the habit of defending him against fans who hate on him because of his contract, but it has to be noted that he has been absolutely frigid from beyond the arc as of late. Not only is he shooting 25% from three over the last 10 games, but he hasn’t finished a month shooting better than 33% from three since January. Granted, he’s never been a sniper from downtown, but the Spurs will need him to be closer to 35% to maximize the tandem between him and Castle as teams look for ways to scheme against San Antonio’s start back-court. I’m really hoping he turns it around, asap.
• I just have to praise Stephon Castle one more time for his defense this season. Even playing at less than full-octane, he’s remains a black hole for whoever he’s matched up on. If you have twitter, you should take a look at some the charts on this tweet I’ve linked. He wreaked havoc on everyone from Luka Doncic, to Devin Booker, to SGA. There’s a reason I started calling it Castle’s Dungeon.
  
  

Critique his offense all you want, but here's what Castle did to Doncic, Booker, Maxey, Cade, Garland, DeRozan, and even your beloved SGA.

Amen's defense is really good.

Castle's is an absolute dungeon. https://t.co/hj4oKzHR3vpic.twitter.com/1LZxPq4AuF

— Devon Birdsong (@DevonBirdsong) April 13, 2026

Playing You Out – The Theme Song of the Evening:

You and Me by Lifehouse

By the numbers, the Phoenix Suns were average this season, and that is perfectly okay. Right before the All-Star break in February, that would have sounded like a disappointment, but before the season it would have been a huge success.

This season was a rollercoaster ride, as most NBA seasons are. Some of the highlights included: Collin Gillespie’s game-winner against the Timberwolves, Devin Booker’s game-winner against the Oklahoma City Thunder, and blowing out the Los Angeles Lakers and San Antonio Spurs. There were also some lows: getting blown out by the Thunder, Spurs, and Rockets, injuries, and a below-.500 stretch post-All-Star break.

There are a million different angles to dissect how this season went for the Suns, who stood out, injuries, who underperformed, where the Suns should go from here, whether the Suns were more real before the All-Star break or after, and many more angles. Which will all be dissected throughout the summer on our site and everywhere else you get your Suns fix.

The Suns finished the season 15th in net rating at +1.5; they ranked ninth in defense and 17th in offense. They finished seventh in the West, and tied for the 13th-best record in the league at 45-37 with the Orlando Magic and the Philadelphia 76ers. The Suns finished fifth in offensive rebound percentage, but 27th in defensive rebounding percentage. Phoenix finished fourth in steals per game, but finished 19th in turnover percentage. Outside of Devin Booker’s All-Star game appearance, there likely will not be any member of the organization who earns an end-of-season award or is named to a team All-NBA or All-Defensive team.

The Suns, by the numbers, were average. But what the numbers cannot tell you is that this team competed hard every night before the All-Star break, and most nights after the All-Star break. Many times, they were positionally challenged, having to play multiple shooting guard-sized players out of position, and still Jordan Ott and his staff put out the best lineups they could for success every night. Players like Collin Gillespie, Jordan Goodwin, Oso Ighodaro, Grayson Allen, and Dillon Brooks exceeded all preseason expectations, while Jalen Green, Ryan Dunn, Mark Williams, Royce O’Neale, and the rookies were up and down.

The Suns did not get lucky with health this season either: Booker missed 18 games and had an average Booker season, Green missed 50 games, Brooks missed 26 games, and Allen missed 31 games. However, even with their four highest-paid players out of the lineup, the Suns still managed to find ways to win. With the way that the Suns finished the season (13-14 after the All-Star break), Ott is not a frontrunner to win Coach of the Year anymore, but his ability to have everyone on the roster buy into his philosophy and play hard for him cannot be taken for granted after what Suns fans have experienced the previous two seasons.

The Suns were average by the numbers, but they established an identity, a culture, and a style of play that will be successful in the years to come because they know what works and what does not in the NBA. Do the Suns have a lot of work to do to compete for championships again? Absolutely, and this offseason might be more difficult than last summer’s because of all the question marks on the roster.

The good news going forward is that the Suns have Devin Booker, Jordan Ott, Dillon Brooks, and a young, athletic core they can build around for the future and stay competitive right now. Hope is the most powerful drug in sports, and living without hope for your team is depressing, just ask Arizona Cardinals fans. The Phoenix Suns organization, from Mat Ishbia, Brian Gregory, Jordan Ott, and the rest of the organization have injected the fan base with hope again.

So, whether the Suns do not make the playoffs, get swept in the first round, or win the NBA Finals, this season was an overwhelming success, despite it being a perfectly average season.