So I haven't watched sports since 1992. The last Knicks game I think I ever saw was then. And we know what's going on with the Knicks: they won the championship. Again, I didn't follow. Maybe I read a little bit about it here and there, just out of nostalgia. But someone recently sent me a video of the celebration that ensued after the Knicks won the championship. People were smiling, hugging each other, giving high fives. Then I saw a little snippet of Patrick Ewing. For those who don't know, Patrick Ewing was the star Knick in the 1990s. He was the man. He was smiling ear to ear. An older Patrick Ewing, happy that the Knicks had won a championship.
Then I started thinking, I don't understand. What are you smiling for? You never won a championship. This wasn't you. You failed dismally. You kept losing. You lost to every basketball team. You lost to the Pacers. You lost to the Bulls. You lost. You lost. What are you smiling about? If anything, I would think you'd be disappointed. How come they did and you didn't? And then it hit me: Ewing thinks that the Knicks are his team. Those guys are his teammates. He's not playing, but it's his team. Their success is his success. And therefore he smiled. It was an accomplishment. He was happy for them, happy for himself.
And then it hit me. If Klal Yisrael (the Jewish people) are one team and everybody in Klal Yisrael is a teammate, well then, if my friend gets engaged, I should be smiling at the end. I didn't get engaged. They got engaged. But if Patrick Ewing could smile for the Knicks, why can't I be happy for my friend who got engaged? They're on my team; it's my accomplishment. Got a kid? My accomplishment. Got a promotion? My accomplishment. Got a raise? My accomplishment. They're doing well? My accomplishment. There's a beautiful wedding? My accomplishment. If I start looking at myself as a teammate, all of Klal Yisrael is one team. Well then, when my teammate scores, that's my score. When my teammate soars, that's my soaring, that's my accomplishment, my achievement, my simcha, my happiness, my celebration. Why not? Why not?
Are you happy for the Knicks? Why are you happy for the Knicks? Did you play? Did you touch the ball? Your team means anyone who's on my team in reality. The Knicks are not really your team; it just happens that they live in the same city. Klal Yisrael—we're all bnei ish echad anachnu (We are sons of one man), and therefore, if you feel that happiness, they're your team. And the only reason you don't is because there's a Yetzer Hara (evil inclination) trying to stop you. It's a facade. It's a fallacy. It's a fraud. But if we realize that they are our team, that's our accomplishment. Our simcha. And guess what happens? When you become happy for other people, then Hashem gives you a reason to be happy for yourself.
So what are we waiting for? Let's go. Right? Don't say, “Let's go Knicks.” “Let's go Yids.” “Let's go Jews.” “Let's go Klal Yisrael.” Let's be there for each other, rejoice in each other's simcha, and im yirtzeh Hashem (God willing), we will have reason to celebrate on our own.