NORMAN POWELL TURNED INTO A WAR crime & THE HEAT COOKED THE KNICKS LIKE AN AIR FRYER

The Miami Heat didn’t just win their home opener — they dropkicked the New York Knicks through the flaming doors of Kaseya Center, poured a mojito on their grave, and called it a vibe.

115–107, final score, but don’t let that closeness fool you.

Miami led this dance, dipped the Knicks, and then whispered “we’re back, bitch” in their ear.

Norman f***ing Powell, the man was hotter than a gas station Jamaican patty at 3 a.m. and twice as dangerous. The dude played like someone told him the Knicks ran their mouths in the group chat. There wasn’t a damn thing he couldn’t do — drilling threes, bullying defenders, and going a perfect 12-for-12 from the line like each free throw was revenge for an unpaid debt.

Powell finished with 29 points, seven rebounds, three assists, and three steals, hitting 7-of-15 from the floor and 3-of-6 from deep and didn’t miss any free throws going twelve-for-twelve from the line. I haven’t seen that much efficiency since Amazon Prime.

Powell didn’t even fake the humility act after:

“I feel like I’ve been comfortable since day one. I’m very low-maintenance, super low-maintenance. I work really hard on my game.”

Bam Adebayo threw in 19 and 13 rebounds of straight grown-man energy, bodying fools like it was rent day. And Erik Spoelstra? Bro looked like a dad who just fixed the Wi-Fi and immediately hit a victory dance.

The Knicks came in undefeated, and Miami said f**k that to them chasing their second 3–0 start in 26 years.

The Heat ended that dream with a pillow over the face and a whisper: “Not in Miami.”

THE HEAT WENT FULL CHAOTIC ENERGY — AND WON

This game looked like a fever dream from the second quarter on. Seven lead changes, eight ties, and enough trash talk to make your abuela grab the remote. By halftime, Miami led 57–54 behind a ridiculous 16–3 edge in fast-break points, proving that cardio actually matters when you’re not running suicides at LA Fitness.

Jalen Brunson dropped 37 points because of course he did — he’s built like the ghost of Knicks past, forever haunting us — but the rest of the team couldn’t hit water if they fell out of a yacht. The Knicks shot 15-of-54 from three (27.8%), and I’m convinced half of those hit the logo instead of the rim.

The fourth quarter was Miami’s playground. The Heat opened it on a 12–5 run, ballooned the lead to 18, and forced New York into panic mode. The Knicks clawed back late, cutting it to five, but then Andrew Wiggins (yes, that Wiggins) calmly buried a dagger three off a Davion Mitchell dime and said, “Y’all can go home now.”

Erik Spoelstra did not hold back for a damn second:

“There was a competitive spirit from our guys. The guys are fully committing to that, our collective competitive edge… it wasn’t a great game on our part. But that competitive spirit — you can do a lot of things with that.”

Translation: We played sloppy as hell, bricked a few, probably stressed Spo to the edge — but we wanted it more. Simple as that. And New York? They can eat it. Choke on it. Swallow it. Pack that f*ing L and head back up I-95.**

Powell came out swinging like he had a vendetta. He scored 13 of Miami’s first 20 points, and at one point the Knicks’ entire bench looked like they’d seen a ghost. Dude was everywhere — pull-ups, catch-and-shoots, driving layups, a steal, and some midrange disrespect.

“He’s a crafty, veteran, skilled offensive talent,” Spoelstra said.

The man basically said, “I’m chill and I cook. Next question.”

Bam Adebayo chimed in with his usual mix of leadership and menace:

“That’s a fun Miami Heat win,” Bam said with a smile.

He had 19 points and 13 rebounds, and at least five of those were ripped straight from Karl-Anthony Towns’ soul.

THE HEAT’S NEW OFFENSE IS A MENACE

The Heat came into this game with the fastest pace in the NBA.

You read that right — Spoelstra’s old half-court clinic turned into a track meet. They slowed down a bit against New York but still torched them in transition 31–10. The Knicks looked like they were running in wet jeans.

Miami attacked the paint, finishing with a 48–42 edge inside and a 26–16 edge from the foul line. New York, meanwhile, bricked enough threes to build a summer home in the Bahamas.

Spoelstra summed it up like a proud mad scientist:

“It’s a cool locker room. They enjoy each other, they’re having fun right now… There’s nothing wrong with guys really enjoying the game, enjoying competing. We want our fan base to enjoy this team.”

Translation: The f**king vibes are back because the PTSD from that 0–6 preseason is gone. Miami’s fun again, and the fans can finally unclench their jaws.

Let’s talk numbers because these stats hit harder than a Spoelstra timeout stare.

The Heat came out the gates shooting like John Wick as they were blazing hot going 45.8% from the field, hit 13-of-37 threes (35%), and went 26-of-31 from the line (84%). They outrebounded the Knicks 50–52 (close but controlled), and they turned those stops into transition cash.

Jaime Jaquez Jr. added 17 off the bench, Simone Fontecchio chipped in 14, and the Heat bench outscored New York’s second unit 44–21. Miami’s pace wasn’t just faster — it was smarter. Every possession had intent.

Meanwhile, New York was on their same bulls**t formula that got them eliminated prematurely last year, Jalen Brunson or bust. He scored 37 on 14-of-26 shooting. The rest of the Knicks shot 33%. OG Anunoby hit one clutch three before fading into the ether, and Karl-Anthony Towns got 18 rebounds just to watch his guards brick from orbit.

This wasn’t a fluke. It was a message.

The Heat are back to playing basketball that makes you scream “HELL YEAH” into your plantain chips.