After a Knicks playoff loss last week, Kyden Randle, the seven-year-old son of the Knicks All-Star Julius Randle, was playing in an A.A.U.
game at Hoop Heaven, in Whippany, New Jersey. There were a few seconds left in the first half. “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” Randle shouted.
He’d been out of the Knicks’ lineup since dislocating his shoulder in January, and was missing the team’s playoff run. “I knew going into surgery that it was going to fucking suck,” he said. “I knew we had a pretty special team.
” Being available to attend Kyden’s games was a silver lining. “His tournaments revitalize me,” Randle said. “It really just makes me happy.
” Kyden missed a contested layup. “Rebound!” Randle yelled. Kyden did.
“Go up!” Randle yelled. Kyden’s second shot fell short, and the buzzer sounded. Kyden’s team wore uniforms in orange and blue, like the Knicks.
He had a pink sleeve on one leg. He looked toward his mother, Kendra, who offered reassurance: “Good try. It’s all right.
” She noted, “It’s funny—all the other kids want Julius to say something to them, but Ky doesn’t.” Randle and Kendra were watching from folding chairs on the sideline. He wore a gray velour jumpsuit and a black beanie.
At halftime, children and parents lined up for photos and autographs. “I guess I’m the cool dad, but he also humbles me,” Randle said. “No matter how cool I am, he doesn’t want me hugging him in front of his friends.
” The family moved t.