The Oklahoma City Thunder didn’t need 48 minutes to show how worthy they are of making the Western Conference finals for the first time in nearly a decade. It took maybe 18 minutes of game time to show the difference between themselves and a very hobbled, limited Denver Nuggets team, resulting in the lopsided 125-93 Game 7 final.
But to be honest, even if Aaron Gordon had two good hamstrings instead of one, and even if Michael Porter Jr.’s left shoulder wasn’t made of papier-mâché, you feel like this would still be the result headed into the conference finals.
Oklahoma City and Minnesota.
Or in NBA terms, Shai Gilgeous-Alexander and Anthony Edwards.
Slow Penny vs. Young Mike.
The presumptive Most Valuable Player against the most charismatic personality in the NBA.
New York is the glamour market, but this is the irresistible series — the second straight year the West has young stars vying for the crown as the NBA’s flirtation with parity becomes a full-blown relationship.
The Thunder probably feel they’re still a year ahead of schedule, even though they’ve been one of the top teams in the conference the last two years. Their three best players are 26, 23 and 22 years of age, with Gilgeous-Alexander being the eldest and the one stepping into full stardom, just like the 23-year-old Edwards.
Gilgeous-Alexander played some of his most efficient basketball the last few games, a mark that shows how ready he is for the moment. Averaging over 32 points and shooting in the 60% range the last three games can quiet the talk of him being a foul merchant and the like, just a bit. The doubts most observers had about the Thunder revolve around not just their youth, but their ability to play and win close games, considering they played the fewest clutch games of any team this season.
Dropping Game 1 in dramatic fashion and losing Game 3 in an overtime slugfest validated those thoughts, but winning Game 7 so decisively, blanketing the game’s best player in a sea of long arms and tireless feet, illustrates those 68 wins were no fluke.
“I thought our pressure was the difference-maker … we didn’t even play a perfect game on offense,” Thunder coach Mark Daigneault said. “The guys did a great job of sifting through the noise of a Game 7.”
Forcing 22 turnovers and rendering Nikola Jokić into an indecisive man capable of being guarded by someone several inches shorter are more than just remarkable sights; it doesn’t even seem real.
Now that defense will be unleashed on the Timberwolves, who dispatched the Stephen Curry-less Warriors in five games. Edwards had trouble with turnovers in that series, most notably in the Game 5 finale (seven), so that will be top of mind for Oklahoma City’s hellacious defense as the series begins Tuesday.
Edwards is so many things Gilgeous-Alexander isn’t, but that’s not a knock on either. What they both have in common is an uncommon ability and desire to lift teammates around them, putting them in prominent positions usually reserved for lead singers.
Edwards is always pumping up Jaden McDaniels and Julius Randle — just as he did with Randle’s predecessor, Karl-Anthony Towns. Gilgeous-Alexander always includes his teammates with him during postgame television interviews on the floor — which can be a bit cheesy and distracting, but the intention of having a team-first focus is admirable.
Edwards’ authenticity makes the Timberwolves must-see television, and we’re all wondering if this is the year they break through. Last year’s journey to the conference finals was exhilarating, but the five-game loss to Dallas was underwhelming, showing how much room they had to grow.
Even the bionic Edwards was fatigued while chasing around Kyrie Irving and also carrying the offensive load, and now that same task will be assigned to him guarding Gilgeous-Alexander for large stretches.
It would be almost old school if these two headliners guarded each other the whole way, something we don’t often see in today’s switch-heavy NBA. The theater of the moment is often replaced by an anticlimactic strategy of keeping stars out of foul trouble, rather than them showing the world who’s superior.
It was done in stretches through the regular season, but there’s not much to take from those matchups, it seems. Randle played in only one of the four matchups, and the two teams haven’t seen each other since late February. The season series was tied at two wins each.
Randle has been a different player the last several weeks. Ever since he found a way to fit into Minnesota’s scheme, the Timberwolves have gone 17-4 in the regular season and 8-2 in the playoffs, knocking off the graybeards in Los Angeles and Golden State.
Even an ardent Randle doubter can’t deny the efficiency. The power forward is averaging 24 points on 51% shooting, grabbing six rebounds and adding six assists in the postseason. And now he’ll meet those same pesky defenders that choked off Denver’s offense, starting with Chet Holmgren.
What was clear in both West semifinals was that depth and health won out. Seemingly neither Minnesota nor Oklahoma City ran out of good players, while their opponents were forced to play inexperienced types or hobbled supporting cast members — and the results were predictable.
Assuming health, and you can’t do that here, not in these playoffs, both seem evenly matched, which puts a lot of focus on the superstars.
If there’s an invisible mantle, it’s up for grabs somewhere in this universe. Either Edwards or Gilgeous-Alexander will vault himself further into everyday conversation and that ever-elusive “face of the league” discussion that changes every week.
It’s hard to convey urgency to young teams, but today’s league has shown, sometimes painfully, opportunities are to be maximized and cherished. Assuming you’ll be back is unwise.
But what’s wise is knowing how entertaining and telling this series could be, because even though it’s hard for these matchups to meet the hype, sometimes … they do.
