Moments after the final buzzer sounded in San Antonio on Saturday night, a friend of mine asked if I ever thought I would see a New York Knicks championship in my life.

“Sure,” I responded. “When they were up four with four seconds remaining.”

It was never supposed to be Jalen Brunson, or OG Anunoby, or Karl-Anthony Towns, or Josh Hart, or Mikal Bridges, or Mike Brown, or this so uniquely Knicks team to break the 53-year drought.

This was not the 2010s Warriors or early 2000s Lakers or 1990s Bulls — though a 16-3 dismantling of its four opponents en route to the title makes that argument a bit more interesting. This was not a team littered with No. 1 picks and future Hall of Famers behind a storied, rich-in-success franchise.

Brunson, Bridges and Hart had accomplished plenty in college — to which my Manhattan resident and Villanova Class of 2020 graduate older sister reminds us plenty — but who could have foreseen this meteoric rise?

Anunoby was a tantalizing yet oft-injured, three-and-D role player in Toronto. His name and Game 4-winning tip-in will now echo throughout Madison Square Garden for eternity.

Towns was always a skilled big man, but never one viewed as a top player on a championship team. He will never have to pick up a tab again.

This is not a league conducive to the small, lead guard, either. Isiah Thomas, Steph Curry and even Tony Parker would beg to differ. Though basketball is a sport of giants, and who better a foe to conquer for the “diminutive” Brunson than the Spurs’ 7-foot-5 Wembanyama?

He idolized Kobe Bryant growing up, and scoring 45 of his team’s 94 points in a Finals closeout game was the most fitting testament possible — perhaps more so than his cold, focused demeanor that went to the handshake line before celebrating with his team.

Critics mocked New York when it signed Brunson to a four-year, $104 million deal back in 2022. Many more questioned Brunson’s decision to effectively leave $113 million on the table. Who passes up that much money?

The captain, that’s who.

That move allowed president Leon Rose — no, owner James Dolan still has not earned a seat at my table of praise — to bring in Towns, bring in Bridges and bring in the rest of a supporting cast that rode their best player to the unthinkable.

Beyond the Game 5 victory and the countless tears shed and cemented memories into the souls of Knicks fans, Game 4 at the Garden was the poster child for how sports can unite a community.

We all saw the celebrity-lined front rows and pandemonium on Eighth Ave., but unless you have been to New York and inhaled that basketball-crazed city’s energy, it is hard to describe quite what this means to the diehards.

There is a court on every other corner in the city. There are generations of Knickerbockers who longed so desperately for what occurred over the past month. And while the Nets may call Brooklyn home, there was not a single street not decked with Knicks attire and suddenly ravenous fans, waiting so eagerly to unleash that pent-up energy only achievable through sports.

Who knows, maybe it will take New York another 53 seasons to call itself champs. Maybe Brunson and Co. have had their moment, and the OKC Thunder, Spurs and Boston Celtics will reassert themselves as the league’s premier team.

But that doesn’t really matter. It happened. It finally happened. It happened with the right collection of Knicks who provided those who came before them — the Patrick Ewings, the Carmelo Anthonys, the Stephon Marburys of the world — something only a few had felt.

It happened with longtime Knicks commentator and devoted fan Mike Breen on the play-by-play. It happened during a campaign that, for long stretches, felt much like previous ones in the Brunson-led era: good, but not good enough.

Yet, it was, and Saturday is a night nobody who has repped the blue and orange will ever forget.