1992 Eastern Conference Semifinals vs Knicks

Lore & Background

By 1991-92, the Pacers had shed their identity as a mid-tier franchise. Reggie Miller, still in his mid-twenties, was becoming the most lethal off-the-dribble shooter in the East. Rik Smits, the lanky Dutch import, had transformed from a curiosity into a genuine All-Star-caliber big man whose passing out of the post confused every defense in the league. Mark Jackson ran the floor at a tempo that left Knicks defenders gasping. Together, they formed a triangle of pace, range, and skill that New York's more physical, inside-heavy identity struggled to contain. The Knicks, meanwhile, were a team built around Patrick Ewing's dominance in the paint and the bruising screen-setting of Charles Oakley. John Starks provided a spark off the bench, and Latrell Sprewell offered a young, aggressive wing presence. New York's identity was grit, rebounding, and Ewing's post moves—a style that could grind down opponents over seven games but was vulnerable to the kind of three-point barrage and transition speed Indiana delivered. The series became a referendum on two eras: the old-school, physical East versus the new wave of shooting and pace. Indiana's victory sent a message that the Conference Finals was no longer the Bulls' automatic bye. It also gave Pacers fans in Indianapolis a taste of what it felt like to be the team everyone had to beat, a feeling that would define the franchise for the next decade.

In Their Own Story

The arena hummed before the tip-off, a low electric buzz that swelled every time Miller caught the ball in the corner. You could feel the contrast in the jerseys—Indiana's white and blue cutting through the Knicks' red and blue like a blade through fog. Smits stood at the free-throw line, hands wet, eyes tracking the ball. Jackson pushed the pace, his sneakers squeaking in staccato bursts. Ewing set a screen that could stop a truck, but Miller was already through it, already rising, already releasing. The net snapped. The crowd detonated. And somewhere in the Knicks' huddle, Oakley was already barking, already resetting, already telling them to be harder, faster, more. But the arrows kept coming. They always kept coming.

Reader's Guide

May 1992, the Eastern Conference Semifinals, Pacers hosting the Knicks. The score is tight, the stakes are elimination, and the arena is a cauldron of noise that rattles the stanchions. Jackson inbound the ball at half court. He pushes, pushes, his sneakers a metronome. Smits rolls to the short corner, catches, and instead of shooting, he whips a no-look pass behind his back to Miller cutting from the left wing. Miller catches in stride, takes one dribble, two, and pulls up at the top of the key. Ewing is there, arms up, a wall of red and blue. Miller rises over him, the ball leaving his fingertips in a high, looping arc that hangs in the arena lights for what feels like an eternity. The net ripples. The scoreboard ticks. The Knicks call timeout. Oakley slaps the whiteboard. Starks is already in the huddle, bouncing on his toes. Ewing wipes his forehead, jaw set, eyes locked on the floor. When they come back out, Smits catches in the post, spins, and dishes to Jackson at the top. Jackson hits a pull-up jumper. The crowd is screaming now, a wall of sound that drowns out the referee's whistle. Miller jogs back on defense, chest heaving, a grin he can't suppress. The broadcast voice cracks: "And that is why you cannot stop the Pacers in this building." In the stands, strangers are hugging. A kid in a Miller jersey is on his father's shoulders, both of them roaring. The series is alive, and Indiana is winning it the only way they know how—arrow after arrow, possession after possession, until New York simply runs out of answers.

Did You Know?

• Rik Smits, the Dutch center, was still relatively new to the NBA when this series took place, yet his passing out of the post was already a weapon that Knicks defenders had no established answer for.
• Mark Jackson's tempo and floor-spacing in this era helped establish the Pacers as one of the fastest teams in the Eastern Conference, a style that contrasted sharply with New York's slower, physical identity.
• Winning this series set up a matchup with Michael Jordan's Chicago Bulls in the Eastern Conference Finals, one of the defining moments of the Pacers' early-1990s golden run.
• John Starks, the Knicks' electric bench scorer, was in the middle of his most productive stretch, making New York a dangerous team even when their starters were on the bench.