Josh Hart's Start to Knicks' Season Isn't What It Seems on the Surface

There is a player in the NBA listed as an inch taller than Josh Hart. This player is making only 29% of his three-point attempts, which tracks: over a 15-year career, he's been below average from deep 13 times. He's never scored 15 points per game nor corralled 10 rebounds per game. And he will walk into the Hall of Fame the minute he's eligible.

There is a rich and recent tradition of scoreless wonders playing pivotal roles on NBA champions, though most of them are big men. Tristan Thompson in Cleveland, Marc Gasol with Toronto and Dwight Howard during his second stint in Los Angeles were all needle-movers who didn't need to score to settle the score. The patron saint of these players is the opening paragraph's mystery man, Draymond Green.

You already know about the passing, the defense, the technical fouls, the flagrant fouls. Did you know Green took fewer shots per game in 2022, the Warriors' last championship season, than Hart is taking this year with the Knicks? Than Andre Drummond? Than Mikal Bridges??

One of Green's teammates from Golden State's glory years fit this bill, too, yet wasn't a big man and is therefore the exception to these exceptionalities. Andre Iguodala had the body of a wing, the ability to defend just about everybody and the range to step up by stepping into any number of areas, from playmaker to spot scorer to defensive determinist—same as Hart.

Iguodala presents an interesting decision for Hall of Fame voters once he becomes eligible in 2028. He'd be the rare case of a non-big who was never a scorer or his team's best player to earn such an honor. If the Knicks win another title with Hart, his candidacy will start getting longer looks. No need to wait that long. Hart deserves your attention for what he's doing now.

Hart always adds something to a win, even if the math doesn't always add up

The book on Hart had already been thumbed through by the time the Knicks acquired him in 2023, as true then as it was in Friday's loss in Philadelphia: physical guard, plays bigger than his size, unselfish passer, unreliable jumper. All those things are true, yet none come close to capturing the kinetic kookery at the heart of all things Hart, a playmaking center in the body of a power guard.

The man doesn't make sense; why would his feats?

Hart is, stereotypically, his team's worst shooter, the player the other team hopes is taking 3s. Hard enough containing Jalen Brunson, Karl-Anthony Towns, OG Anunoby, etc. Defenses have to draw the line somewhere, usually pointing right at Hart.

Surprise: the Knicks lost his highest-scoring game of the young season. And his second-highest. And his third. When he had his worst shooting effort, they won. Hart is more famous for his rebounding, specifically for grabbing the boards that break teams, as he puts it. The Knicks won his worst rebounding game so far. He's the embodiment of New York grit, tough as they come. But he's shooting 50% at home versus 26% on the road.

And yet, contradicting that, in the loss to the Sixers, Hart missed seven of nine shot attempts. The man is the exception to his own rules. He was also far from the only Knick who performed short of their usual standards.

What to make of all the numbers? Probably not much. The Knicks could run off a 10-game winning streak, and Hart's numbers throughout probably wouldn't be all that different from what they've been in the first six games. In that sense, Hart really is New York's cardiac muscle: the exact numbers he's putting up are never as important as the fact that he's still putting up numbers. When the numbers stop showing, then there's a problem.

The reason Hart is at the center of everything the Knicks do is he's always there to be

Once upon a time, the Knicks weren't going to go 53 years between championships. Less than a decade after winning it all in 1973, the Knicks were ready to wreck the 1980s, led by a trio of young, complementary stars.

Bill Cartwright, a rookie, only 22, was an All-Star in 1979-80. Micheal Ray Richardson, 24, led the league in assists and steals, and was First Team All-Defense and also an All-Star. Also 24: Toby Knight, a local kid the Knicks took in the second round a few years prior, who'd blossomed into a 19-point-a-game starter. With Red Holzman coaching, the return to glory seemed a question of when, not if.

Two years later, a knee injury had ended Knight's career. Richardson, struggling with drug addiction, was traded that summer to Golden State and would be out of the league by 30. Cartwright missed two whole seasons due to foot injuries before being traded for Charles Oakley. Even Holzman was out after 1982.

Without availability, there is nothing. The moment a player joins a team, his presence means more than his potential. James Wiseman was the second pick in the draft six years ago. He hasn't gotten any shorter; he still jumps like the floor is lava. The league wasn't suddenly flooded with skilled 7-footers. But Hart is a starter while Wiseman is at the end of the bench and slipping back into DNP-ville.

Hart has been Mr. Available ever since arriving from Portland. In his first full season in New York, he finished 11th in the league in minutes, then second in 2025 and 80th in 2026; entering Saturday's games, he ranked 16th this season. Hart isn't always making his jump shots. Some games he rebounds better than others; sometimes he's a demon in transition, sometimes a quiet little angel, chaste and proper in his own half. But he's always open. Not many players can say that.

Hart's game is less soup and more broth: you can throw in some of this and more of that, and it all ends up tasting good. The burner is always on. He doesn't just get the rebounds that break teams; he makes the three-pointers and pull-up shot-clock buzzer-beaters that break teams, the pass that breaks them, the pass that leads to the pass that breaks them. His cooking is always on, and it is always good.

While we wait for Brunson and Towns to look All-NBA, for Anunoby to look like an All-Star, or for Bridges to look like himself again, don't lose sight of Hart, pushing ahead with nine good fingers and no contract extension, doing all the all that he does that makes all the rest possible. A few more years of that and we could be wondering about Hart's Hall chances.

And if that sounds ridiculous, remember: Draymond is a 32% three-point shooter who's never averaged 15 or 10, and he's a first-ballot Hall of Famer. Hart is like Anthony Mason and John Starks squished into one player. It doesn't make much sense, but you know what? That's the opponent's problem. The Knicks don't need to solve Hart. They can simply enjoy him.

We can, too.

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