I don’t know what I’m talking about. Here’s the thing, though – nobody else does, either.
Last week, I wrote what I thought was a locked-in, well-informed, fully rational take on what I thought would happen in the NBA Finals. Given all the available information and all the games I had watched with my own two eyes, I thought I had come to a reasonable conclusion – a conclusion that seemed to be the prevailing sentiment of everyone else who writes about basketball on the internet.
Thunder in five.
After Indiana’s 116-107 win in Game 3 of the NBA Finals, that outcome is completely impossible.
I’ve been watching basketball for as long as I can remember. So much of my personality is tied up in my experiences watching this game. So many of my closest friendships – including my relationship with my son – are informed by our shared appreciation of this game. I feel like I know what I’m talking about when I talk about basketball.
No. I don’t. Not even close. Not even a little bit.
I was certain Oklahoma City’s suffocating defense would be too much for this freewheeling Indiana Pacers squad to overcome. I have grown so fond of these Pacers – their unconventional, death-defying acts of fast-break fury – but I just didn’t see how they could keep it up against this tenacious wave of bear traps OKC lays in front of unsuspecting ball handlers.
Thunder in five, right? Right??
It was reasonable. Rational. Logical. Sam Presti is perhaps the most reasonable, rational, logical person in charge of any professional sports franchise. He built this team patiently, intelligently. He has clear preferences in player/personality type. He doesn’t deviate. In the book “Boom Town” by Sam Anderson (required reading), Presti comes off as an iconoclast in the face of Oklahoma City’s rowdy, freewheeling formation and its boom-or-bust roots. If anything, the Pacers are much more emblematic of Oklahoma City’s personality than Presti’s steady, even-handed approach.
Honestly, that might be why the series is currently 2-1 Indiana. The Pacers have completely turned the tables on the Thunder.
Game 1 was insane – no other way to describe it. OKC held the lead for 47 minutes, 58.6 seconds. They were better, right? But the Pacers just lingered, lingered, lingered … and then pounced with haymaker after haymaker until Tyrese Haliburton’s knockout blow.
A fluke, right? Game 2 made it seem that way.
The Thunder strangled the Pacers into oblivion in Game 2. If Kobe Bryant found inspiration in the black mamba, the Thunder found inspiration in the boa constrictor, slowly strangling the life out of its prey until the final whistle. Indiana couldn’t get anything going in that game. The idiotic take machine pivoted toward blaming Tyrese Haliburton for not “stepping up” instead of pointing out how OKC suffocated his team’s entire approach.
How would Game 3 play out? Would the boa constrictor keep squeezing, or would the Pacers wiggle free?
Neither. The Pacers would become the boa constrictor. Who saw that coming?
Indiana suffocated OKC. Andrew Nembhard steals. Myles Turner blocks. Tyrese Haliburton orchestration. Aaron Neismith everything. Benedict Mathurin – well, let’s take a pause here.
On the drive to his basketball practice, I told my son that bench players tend to play better in front of their home crowd. I told him to watch for a big Mathurin game – he is a wild card who truly believes he is the best player on the floor and is actually athletically gifted enough to hang with OKC’s monster wings.
Did I think he’d score 27 points on 9-12 shooting in 22 minutes? No, but don’t tell my son that.
A game like this is why we’ll never stop watching basketball. We will never figure this game out. We’ll never solve it. Basketball will always surprise us. By the time we get to June, we have so much data, so much game tape, so much time invested, we think we know where this is heading. All too often, the NBA delivers what seems to be a predetermined outcome. The team with the most good players wins the most important games.
But then we have a game like Game 3. And we’re reminded that we have no idea what’s going to happen. Don’t tell me about the ratings or the “lack of casual interest.” I truly do not care. Go watch something else. We’ve seen three games of the NBA Finals, and we have no idea who is going to win the title.
I can’t imagine how happy Pacers fans must be feeling right now. No matter what happens, this is the kind of thing that makes every other heartbreaking, underwhelming year totally worth it.
I can’t imagine how strange and nervous Oklahoma City fans must be feeling right now. You have this burgeoning dynasty that has already been anointed before actually achieving anything. The future seems guaranteed, until it isn’t. You’re keeping the faith, but you’re feeling … off.
I can’t imagine how Seattle basketball fans must be feeling right now. That’s all.
As for the rest of us? The hardcore, day-in, day-out, basketball lifers? This is all we ever wanted.
