This was the kind of soundtrack unique to the final seconds of a basketball game, those moments when an outcome is uncertain, when thousands of people take their feet and a basketball’s in the air, there are 10 players jockeying for position and two coaches squirming and contorting and using every idiom of body language available to them.
This was late Tuesday night, Madison Square Garden, the Knicks clinging to a three-point lead against the Bulls, and for the first time in a long, long time, the announced crowd of 19,763 actually looked like 19,763, and sounded like 19,763, and felt like 19,763. David Lee, who already had 16 points and 21 rebounds next to his name, fired a 15-footer from the corner. And the rattle and hum went something like this:
1. Anticipatory rumble (upon release).
2. Premature roar (when it looked good).
3. Agitated gasp (as the ball tried to sneak out).
4. Roof-raising tumult (when it finally dropped).
Or, as Mike Breen described it on television, in five of the most eloquent words a basketball announcer could ever summon: “In . . . and out . . . and in!!!!!! ”
And this was the truly wonderful thing, as Lee’s shot fell, as the Knicks took another baby step closer to .500, and Lee took another giant leap closer to the All-Star Game. As the Knicks wrapped up their sixth straight win at the Garden, you could hear that same noise no matter where you were — at the Garden, in your den, bellied up to a bar, listening to Gus Johnson on your car radio.
It is the sound of hope, and if it is going to visit you at all, why shouldn’t it arrive now, with the lights strung everywhere and snow piled up thick in your back yard, with a backing soundtrack of winter wonderlands, merry little Christmases and “Jingle Bell Rock”? If you aren’t an optimist now, when will you be?
“It is a skill in the NBA to play with a lead,” David Lee would say later. “We haven’t played too many games with a big lead.”
For a time, it seemed like they might never play with a lead, when the record was 1-9 and when it was 3-14, when it seemed the Knicks would battle the Nets all season to usurp the 9-73 record of the 1972-73 Sixers.
For a time, it seemed basketball season had ended before the Yankees were done touring the Canyon of Heroes. And, man, did January and February promise to be colder and harsher than usual around here.
Now, there is Lee, grabbing every rebound, more of an offensive force than ever. There is Chris Duhon, quieting the Garden’s angst more often that stoking it. There are Al Harrington and Danilo Gallinari, one of them usually delivering a signature game, and there is Jonathan Bender, the best comeback story you’ll encounter this year, and there is Mike D’Antoni, his message finally getting across, and there is — and who ever would have seen this coming — actual, honest-to-god defense being played every night, every possession.
And there is this: We are now 527 words into this column, and not one of those words has yet been “LeBron.”
“Every night, somebody’s stepping up, making big shots,” D’Antoni said after the Knicks finally dismissed the Bulls, 88-81, moving to within a half-game of the No. 8 seed with 65 percent of the season still to come. “We have more confidence we could stop them on the other end. Last year, we’d lose all kind of games down the stretch.”
That is the sound of hope, too. And why shouldn’t that come now, to a town grown obsessed by the Mets’ lack of activity and by the Giants lack of defense, by the Jets’ inability to finish games, when even Yankees fans, looking for things to complain about so they won’t feel left out, wonder if Javier Vazquez is up to the task of being a No. 4 starter.
Yes. Why shouldn’t we embrace the possibility of these Knicks now, a team that may forever feel on the verge of a six-game losing streak, but for now fills the city and the Garden with the sound of hope? A sound every bit as cheery, in its own way, as Santa Claus’ laugh?
michael.vaccaro@nypost.com