SAN ANTONIO — New York Knicks assistant coach Rick Brunson — as soon as Victor Wembanyama missed the desperation 3-pointer to exhaust the San Antonio Spurs’ last gasp — immediately turned toward his son. His proverbial coaching cap came off in an instant. With both fists in the air, Brunson became a proud father in search of a particular embrace.But Jalen Brunson walked in the opposite direction, away from his pops. Because as soon as the horn sounded, the Knicks star headed directly to the Spurs’ bench. His first act as a champion: shake hands with San Antonio coach Mitch Johnson. Sportsmanship before celebration.“Because he was raised right,” Rick Brunson said. “But that’s his mom. That ain’t me.”Jalen Brunson, after his hug with the Spurs’ coach, went to dap the rest of the Spurs. It’s just like him, to cling to his composure a little longer, postpone the moment for which everyone rushed. delay the jubilation in favor of doing the right thing. You just know the Knicks superstar, who consistently wards off sentimentality, wasn’t rushing to let himself feel it all. With all eyes on him, he’d play it cool.But then came a tap on the shoulder. And when he turned around, Jalen Brunson saw his father beaming. Smiles born of pride stretch wider than laughter. The point guard stood no chance of keeping up his stoic facade. His poised exterior, that exoskeleton of chill, crumbled at first sight.“And then (I) turned around and my dad was there,” he said, “and (I) felt emotional from that point on.”First, his grin matched the width of his father. Then he hugged his dad, wrapping tight and burying his face in his father’s shoulder. Like he’d done so many times in his life. The years seemed to collapse at once. All the hours in empty gyms. All the workouts. The car rides. The corrections. The expectations. They all paid off, leading here.Jalen Brunson scored 45 points in 41 minutes to close out San Antonio on Saturday. After the Knicks’ 94-90 Game 5 win at Frost Bank Center, he was an NBA champion, a bona fide NBA superstar and instantly a Knicks legend. But in this moment, following the horn that made it all official, he was a son. Again, as always. One who’d endured every doubt and slight and rejection. One who’d survived pain, losses and uncertainty. One who’d bore the pressure of proving himself, of aggressive defenses, and of New York.For these few seconds, before the screams and hugs, before taking the stage on which he’d accept the finals MVP, before the Möet and cigars, Brunson could let it go. So he set down the burden of carrying New York and allowed himself to feel. The awe. The relief. The overwhelming gratitude. And Jalen Brunson’s new existence began in earnest with him crying on the shoulders of his father.“And then I was emotional for a good, like, five, 10 minutes, and then the excitement started to kick in,” Jalen Brunson said.Pops, of course, who taught his son how to hide the mushy stuff behind a leathery resolve, still had enough resilience in the tank not to completely melt from the warmth.“My heart is just in my sneaker, man,” the dad said, shunning the team championship shirt to don a tee featuring his son’s face. “You can’t see it on the outside, but on the inside, I’m steaming inside.”The story of the Knicks now prominently features Jalen Brunson, who delivered the franchise its first championship in 53 years, punctuating it with a performance for the ages. And the story of Jalen Brunson cannot be told without Rick Brunson.Say what you will about Rick Brunson. He was a career journeyman who peaked at the fringe of the NBA. He’s a reputed abrasive figure who’s had off-the-court issues taint his reputation. He’s on his fourth stint as an assistant coach, getting this latest opportunity with the Knicks after his son signed with New York as a free agent. But he shaped the player who became the face of the franchise and the breaker of the drought. And they celebrated the moment together because they built it together.Father and son. The pro and the protégé. Sensei and student.“Oh, man, it’s so cool,” Josh Hart said as his own children played with the open microphones at the podium. “So cool to see that, because I’ve seen the hard work. I’ve seen their relationship. I’ve seen the work that they both put in to get to this point. … And to be able to do that with your dad, both played on the same team, that’s something they are going to remember for the rest of their lives.”So much of who Jalen Brunson became, and needed to be to make this happen, was forged in the thousands of ordinary moments nobody saw. A sample of which millions did see in the viral video of Rick Brunson pushing his adolescent son in an old training video on blacktop.Basketball was the family business. But the fortitude passed down, the relentless work ethic fueled by an internalized desperation, became the legacy of the father and the DNA of the son.Jalen Brunson is indeed the son of an NBA player from another era. He approaches the game with the mentality of an NBA journeyman who played for eight teams in nine years, who quilted together a career of 337 games with savvy and grit.Rick Brunson spent years preparing his son for a league that often struggled to see him the way his father did. Jalen Brunson’s heard it all. Too small. Not athletic enough. Can’t carry a team. But he wore it properly because his father heard it, too. Even worse. He taught his son to use the doubts as motivation and to see obstacles as opportunity. The son watched the father keep his head right while surviving on 10-day contracts, while getting leftover minutes from coaches who scarcely believed in him, while losing the games of politics that often govern careers.It’s no wonder that he could wear the intensity of New York desperation like a tailored jacket. The thirst of Knicks basketball looked good on him as he crafted a collection of clutch moments under the greatest pressure.“No pressure. No pressure whatsoever,” Jalen Brunson said. “My dad being on eight or nine unguaranteed contracts throughout his career and not knowing when you’re going to get cut, when a team is going to move on from you, while your family is on the East Coast and you are wherever you are in the country. That’s pressure. Working out three times a day in the summertime and watching him push himself just to get a training camp deal, that’s pressure. I’m very fortunate to be in the position I am and I definitely think I worked pretty hard. So when the opportunity presented itself like it did today, I just trusted my work. … I’m just never afraid to fail.”That was in full view on Saturday. In Game 5, against the best version of San Antonio’s defense, Brunson proved the only viable option to generate offense. Against the Spurs’ parade of bigger and more athletic defenders, who took turns hounding him on every dribble, it was on Brunson to find a way. Karl-Anthony Towns, marred with foul trouble and swarmed by the reigning Defensive Player of the Year, managed two points on seven shots in 23 minutes. OG Anunoby, the hero of Game 4, whose tip-in put the Knicks in position to clinch, struggled to get any offense going as Wembanyama commanded the paint.At halftime, the Knicks had 32 points on 29.5 percent shooting. Every player not named Brunson combined to make just 7 of 32 shots.So Brunson put the Knicks on his back. He played all but three minutes and some change in the second half. He became the offense, scoring 29 of the Knicks’ 57 second-half points, though it required jousting with Stephon Castle and Dylan Harper — both of whom have at least three inches and 25 pounds on Brunson.But the Knicks star didn’t wilt. Didn’t wear down. Unlike Wembanyama, who wrestled with fatigue in his first NBA Finals, Brunson’s game didn’t diminish as the minutes escalated. Tired is for the weak, his father told him as a kid. He was crafted for endurance. He was implanted with a will to weather the weight.Maybe that’s why Knicks fans connect so deeply with Brunson. They see the way his resolve enhances his talent. His footwork reveals his diligence. His fearlessness declares his preparation. They see a player who earned everything. A player who wasn’t crowned before his time, but who became their king through the work he put in and the fruits it produced.And standing beside him, smiling, trying to keep his pride from breaking containment, was the father who put the ball in his hands and the battery in his back.“He gets the toughness from his dad,” said Allan Houston, Knicks legend and current vice president, who played with Rick Brunson in the late ’90s, losing the finals to San Antonio in 1999 together. “The way he just keeps coming at you. Rick was the same way. Obviously, Jalen was more of an offensive player. But they’re both tough. Just tough.”Jalen Brunson entered his press conference with both gold trophies. The bigger one, the Larry O’Brien. The smaller one, the Bill Russell Finals MVP trophy. Rick Brunson interrupted his son, coming in to grab the small one. It was picture time, and pops would be posing with his son’s hardware. The right of a proud father.Oh, how spectacular this must feel for Rick Brunson.To spend a lifetime pouring yourself into your son, hoping to bring the best out of him. To bequeath the thing you love most, your expertise, to your son and have him latch on and take it to an even higher level. To challenge him when he’d rather be comforted, to indoctrinate with lessons that wouldn’t sprout until later, and often be the bad guy in the process. Every father who has ever invested in his child hopes for the same thing: that one day the kid will understand.Rick Brunson watched his son become a champion. He watched the seed he planted grow into something so majestic that his name will live on in the highest regard. He helped produce a better player, a better man. And maybe that’s the most beautiful surprise a parent can receive. Hoping, praying, working so your child can reach their ceiling, only to discover there never was one.“I can’t imagine,” pops said, shaking his head. “I never thought he’d get to this level. I’d be lying to you if I said I thought he would be this good. I just wanted someone to come to New York, run a team, and hopefully have a chance to win a championship. And for him to be the guy to help me help the team, this is surreal.Oh, how spectacular this must feel for Jalen Brunson.For all the accomplishments attached to his name now — NBA champion, finals MVP, perhaps the greatest Knick ever — still one title perhaps means more than all the others.Son.Because buried inside, as is the case with every man, no matter how old he becomes or how great his stature grows, lives the same quiet desire, an inescapable yearning that shapes a man’s psyche: to make his father proud.On this night in San Antonio, under a chorus of cheers from Knicks fans who’d taken over the arena, under the spectacle of New York reaching the pinnacle, Jalen Brunson spent a moment as a son in tears, squeezed by the arms of a father who couldn’t possibly be more proud.Jalen Brunson, in a postgame interview, had that achievement land on his heart like an anvil of love. Asked to express what doing it with his dad meant, and he didn’t use words. He couldn’t. But as his eyes welled, his lips quivered, and he struggled with all his might to keep his composure, he said enough. He even covered his face with his hand, like he’d just drained a 3. But not even he could hide this swirling sense of fulfillment. He couldn’t help but convey the magnitude of a dad’s unwavering approval.Even for the most unflappable of men, that’s enough to make a son cry.