Can You Dress Like a Spurs Fan in Knicks Land?

The NBA Finals are officially ramping up. On Monday, the San Antonio Spurs took game 3 from the Knicks, bringing the series count to 2-1, Knicks. Tonight, they’ll face off again.

New York’s return to the finals for the first time since 1999 has had major fashion implications from the front row—where celebrities including Spike Lee, Timothée Chalamet, Tina Fey, and Jay-Z flaunt their style for the jumbotron—to the street, where Knicks fans of every stripe bring out their best vintage. The subways, the skyscrapers, and the people packed into them have been drenched in orange and blue; the whole city has Knicks fever.

There’s another side to the story, though. Sprinkled among the colors is a small contingent of those backing the silver and black in the form of the many Texans who have made New York City and the surrounding area their home. But in just a few short weeks, wearing San Antonio Spurs merchandise in the city has gone from a harmless proposal—even a lowkey flex—to an absolute nonstarter.

Rather than a nod of respect, Spurs fans—myself now sheepishly included—are finding their favorite tees and caps drawing chirps, sneers, and curses. It started after the Spurs beat the defending champion Oklahoma City Thunder in the Western Conference Finals on May 30. In just a block, I received enough dirty looks to make me rethink my somewhat regular choice of a 2005 championship cap on the way to the grocery store.

As the series intensifies, so have the interactions. After game 3, several videos showing Knicks fans assaulting (verbally, and in some cases physically) Spurs fans started popping up online, prompting several players such as the Spurs’ Victor Wembanyama and the Knicks’ Karl-Anthony Towns to condemn the harassment. Knicks fan Ben Stiller and Mayor Zorhan Mamdani also spoke out against the violence.

It’s become something of an unwritten rule in the city: Wear Spurs merch at your own risk.

“I got booed on an e-bike,” said Sarah Phillippona, dressed in a jersey of Spurs star Victor Wembanyama.

Even those new to the sport, including Vogue contributor Lynn Yaeger, who was inspired to watch her first basketball game ever yesterday after noticing people (and dogs) wearing Knicks fashion across town, can feel it. At an event just before tip-off, I told her I was a Spurs fan and had been wearing my gear. “Not today,” she said, before heading out to watch.

At the Bed-Stuy watering hole, Doris, where Spurs fans gathered together to watch game 3, many agreed with the sentiment. One fan brought his Manu Ginobili jersey in a bag, only brave enough to slip it on inside.

That’s thanks to the energy in the air—which Sam Cummins, host of the “Nymphet Alumni” podcast and Texas native, noted gets stronger the closer you move to Madison Square Garden. “In Manhattan, you can just feel the rising New York patriotism,” she said.

But there are also some Texan manners involved in taking a more toned-down approach to dressing: “I want New York to have their moment, I do think they deserve it,” said Sydney Pedraza, a San Antonian now based in Greenpoint. (She wore a Spurs shirt and a loud, colorful Fiesta flower crown traditional to her hometown—but came straight to the bar.)

Politesse hasn’t stopped fans from finding subtle ways to support their team using fashion. Dallas-born Lauren Wright likened being a Spurs fan right now in New York to living through the Prohibition era.

“I’m undercover,” she said, pointing to the black-and-white Converse sneakers she wears on game days. Friends Ryan Saathoff and Ashley Clayton opted for nondescript black shirts.