What does it mean to be a champion? To inspire with your greatness? To earn the undying love of millions who have never met you?

36 Hours in New York

12:47AM, Thursday, May 3: Deep into the night, in the 107th minute of a grueling playoff clash and the 47th minute of sudden-death overtime, the Rangers’ best offensive player slams home his first goal in the last nine games. Off a perfect feed from the suddenly unstoppable Brad Richards, Marian Gaborik powers a wrist shot through the legs of Washington’s impressive playoff rookie goalie, Braden Holtby. A 2-1, 30T win for the Rangers, and a 2-1 series lead over the Capitals in the Eastern Conference semifinals.

At what point in playoff overtime in hockey does a game become something more? Is it clerical, as in “when the teams eclipse 100 minutes on the ice”? Is it when a single player surpasses 50 minutes of ice game IN ONE GAME? That would be Ranger defenseman Ryan McDonagh, who logged an inconceivable 53:17 minutes in the Blueshirts’ series-altering win.

Maybe it’s when two cuts to the head are not enough to keep a man off the ice. That was another Rangers’ defenseman, Dan Girardi, whose face was slashed by Henrik Lundqvist’s stick late in the game. The cut required seven stitches, but Girardi miss only a handful of shifts before returning. He stayed out and battled even after a puck to the face re-opened the wound in overtime. He played 44:22 minutes. Stepping up in Girardi’s brief absence were fellow defensemen Marc Staal (49:30 of ice time) and Michael Del Zotto (43:37). What a titanic effort by these four men.

Or maybe it’s just when a team is forced into a season-defining moment and rises to meet that moment. The Rangers had to have this game — in series tied 1-1, as this was, the Game 3 winner goes on to win the series about three-quarters of the time. They had stretches where they hung on by their fingernails, no time more so than when Alex Oveckhin hit the inside of the post on a wide-open net after a New York turnover in the first overtime. The goal light went off and the horn sounded, and the Washington crowd briefly went berserk. But the ref said no goal, and the replay said no goal, and the game soldiered on.

And then, thanks to a quick, perfectly executed play by two of the Rangers’ biggest free-agent additions in recent years, the top seed remaining in the NHL playoffs has the inside track to a conference finals berth. The road to becoming a champion may be 16 wins long, but most of the 16 will not be as important as Wednesday night/Thursday morning’s marathon victory.

5:00PM, Thursday, May 3: His left arm stabilized by a sling, Amare Stoudmire trudges into Madison Square Garden. The Knicks’ star power forward smashed his left hand against a fire extinguisher case in anger after Monday’s Game 2 loss against the Heat. The glass cut his hand damn near in half. It was a stupid, incredibly short-sighted mistake. Stat will not play in this night’s Game 3 because of his short but consequential mental vacation. And while it is not the unforgivable offense so many talk-radio callers say it is, Stat’s slap is a painful remainder of what the Knicks lack. A championship mentality.

Scoff at your peril. NBA and NHL champions do not happen by accident. They win 16 playoff games and for most or all of that process demonstrate an ability to be better, to either outclass or overcome the opponents in front of them. Whatever that gene is, the Knicks as currently constructed do not have it. Melo does not have it — this is perhaps too harsh, but neither did Tracy McGrady. And Stat certainly does not have it. Who knows about Jeremy Lin, Steve Nash or some other as-yet-unknown savior. But Tyson Chandler’s grit and determination is not enough. The Knicks are fun to watch for the first time in ages, and they have had a roller-coaster season that will be remembered for a long time. But they are not champions. And let’s be honest: Right now, they’re not even contenders.

6:30PM, Thursday, May 3: What would the reaction have been at Belmont Park in 1973 if Secretariat, leading by 15 at the final turn, planted a hoof wrong and came up lame, right there, just like that?

Mariano Rivera shagged flies for about the 10,000th time as a Yankee before a Thursday night game in Kansas City, a beautiful stadium by all accounts. Rivera jumped for a fly ball at the warning track. His right leg came down, got caught in the space between the outfield grass and the warning tracks and buckled. He fell to the ground, clutched his leg and screamed.

I typed Mariano Rivera Tears ACL into my headline box last night. I typed the following paragraph in my story.

Rivera may yet come back — before this, nothing ever held him back. But there’s a good chance that he bows out gracefully rather than subject himself to a grueling rehabilitation and return to the game. In that case, Mariano Rivera has thrown his last pitch.

(I cannot believe I just typed that sentence)

I will not delve deeply into the pain of watching my favorite athlete fall — not again, anyway. But make no mistake: Mariano Rivera is a champion. He is what the Rangers seek, what the Knicks have not been since before I was born, not even when Patrick Ewing was about 98% good enough to win a title.

After the game, Rivera spoke to the assembled media. I don’t know which athletes have made a definitive, even spiritual impact on your life. I don’t know if any have. But Mariano Rivera has on mine. And when I watched him speak to the press, I cried with him.

As I type this, Rivera speaks to the media, softly answering questions with a catch in his voice. Are you going to try and come back?

“At this point I don’t know. I don’t know. We have to face this first.” His voice breaks. He cries.

9:50PM, Thursday, May 3rd: The Knicks go down meekly, 87-70. They are outscored 29-14 in the fourth quarter and personally bested 17-14 by LeBron James. In the second half, the Knicks score 30 points. Carmelo Anthony fights for 22 points on 7-23 shooting. Amare watches.

It is the franchise’s 13th consecutive postseason loss, a new NBA record — though to call it a record bastardizes the colloquial meaning of the word. The Knicks are down 3-0 in the series, a hole no NBA team has ever climbed out of, one inevitable loss from elimination. The best they can hope for is that pride and grit propel them to a Game 4 victory at home to avoid a sweep. It is not a championship the 2011-12 Knicks strive for. It is dignity.

Circa 2PM, Friday, May 4th: Rivera tweets: “I will be ok. I will be back.” He thanks friends, family and fans for their support. The greatest closer confirms the sentiment to reporters, saying: “I’m coming back. Write it down in big letters. I’m not going out like this.” The rehab will be anywhere from six months to a year. Anyone out there not think he can and will do it? Anyone?

What does it mean to be a champion?

It means triple overtime wins. It means class and poise and belief and an ineffable win to win. It means Mariano Rivera.