Peter DeBusschere remembers what it was like to take the LIRR into the city with his dad in the weeks following that first lottery, what it was like to walk the streets of Manhattan, Knicks fans seeking his old man out, offering high fives and attaboys and congratulations.
Dave DeBusschere, forever a gracious man, forever grateful for the way New York City had adopted and embraced him, appreciated those kindnesses, especially because he saw what a kick his kids got out of them.
Peter and Dennis and Michelle had been too young to fully understand what life had been like for their father in the early-’70s in New York, when the Knicks owned the city and its imagination, when being a Knick meant never having to buy a beer, a steak or a theater ticket.