The Spurs have held a lead with fewer than two minutes left in all four games of this series. They’re now 1-3, preparing for Game 5 with a broken heart after blowing a Finals-record 29-point cushion.

I wonder, and I guess we’ll find out, if a team this young is more or less resilient than a veteran group? The Spurs have reasonable hopes of making it back to the Finals again in the near future, but there’s also the knowledge that they just made history in the worst way possible. Does that hit 22-year-olds harder than 30-year-olds?

The Knicks, on the other hand, will need to avoid an emotional hangover in Game 5, but they’re sitting pretty. They’ve lost three times in these entire playoffs; San Antonio needs to beat them three times in a row.

That’s an order tall enough to overshadow even Victor Wembanyama. But if Game 4 proved anything, it’s that nothing is impossible.

Let’s walk through some stats explaining why and how the series is the way it is. If you’d rather/also want to hear my unhinged, delirious reactions to Game 4’s comeback, watch my post-game reaction podcast with Wes Goldberg on RealGM YouTube, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or wherever. It’s a lot of me stifling curse words and looking up stats on the fly (did you know the Spurs shot 20.5% over the entire second half?); if you’re not a San Antonio fan, you’ll enjoy it. If you are, uh, maybe steer clear.

133

Okay, so this is less explanatory and more, “Holy s***!”

The San Antonio Spurs have led for 133 minutes in this series. That’s 69.3% of the 192 minutes played so far. If Kenny Atkinson were still here, he might say that, analytically, the Spurs should be the team up 3-1.

I already talked about Jalen Brunson and New York’s slow first quarters, and Game 4 was the most extreme possible example of that. Jalen Brunson made zero field goals in the first (he’s now 5-for-25 to start each game in the series). The Knicks have been outscored by 47 points in first quarters and have subsequently had to spend the rest of each game digging themselves out of holes ranging from shin-deep to coffin-sized.

And yet! We know how these games have generally ended. Call it inexperience; call it killer instinct; call it a lack (or surfeit) of optionality and depth; call it exhaustion; call it bad (or good) luck. When we’re talking about samples this small, it’s hard to draw sweeping conclusions, but it’s clear that something is happening.

If this series goes the way that history suggests it will, the Spurs will have an offseason full of regrets. I’m not sure whether losing in the Finals fits the “young team taking its lumps” narrative we always talk about, but I am sure that San Antonio coach Mitch Johnson, Wembanyama, and the rest will take plenty of lessons away from this experience.

Meanwhile, New York will have to settle for taking away a banner.

59.6%

Alright, let’s dive a little deeper. The Knicks are shooting 62.6% at the rim, which is way below their season average and actually a tad worse than what San Antonio allowed during the regular season (which makes sense, given Wemby’s increase in minutes). 62.6% would’ve been the lowest rim accuracy of any regular-season team.

But the Spurs are shooting a paltry 59.6% at the rack, highlighted by a sub-50% shooting performance in Game 4! New York’s stellar rim protection has been a hugely underrated part of their success.

Some of that number is a bit overblown. Wembanyama tallies a couple of misses each game on wild putbacks; the Spurs have missed some absolutely inexplicable bunnies. But in the aggregate, the Knicks have met the Texans at their greatest strength and been more than their equal.

Despite those basement-level shooting percentages, this hasn’t been a block party of a series; the Spurs have 22 blocks, and the Knicks have 20, both of which are right around what you’d expect.

But New York has had a lot of success bringing extra bodies on every Wembanyama roll and post-up. They’re even helping off of shooters like Julian Champagnie and Devin Vassell far more than I would have expected:

Sometimes, Wemby can’t even get a shot up to miss. OG Anunoby, in particular, is a master of the help-and-recover. Watch him slam Wemby with a vicious shoulder tag (right after Brunson did the same!) and then fly back out to the three-point line:

Those aggressive tactics can leave New York vulnerable to an explosion from downtown, as we saw in the first half of Game 4. But the Knicks are betting that bringing all this pressure will help more than harm, and so far, they’ve been proven right.

12

Let’s talk more OG.

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There are plenty of reasons for fear and optimism on both sides, and I’ll explore some of those later this week more in-depth. But something that’s stuck out is how consistently the Knicks’ Jalen Brunson has struggled out of the gates.

Breaking news: It’s hard to score against the one-two punch of Steph Castle and Victor Wembanyama. But it’s not always hard for Brunson! In classic Captain Clutch fashion, he has lit the Spurs up in fourth quarters so far. Through three games, 32 of Brunson’s 82 total points have come in the final period, papering over his chelonian starts.

For the entire game, Brunson is averaging 27.3 points per 75 possessions in the Finals, right in line with his regular-season averages. However, his efficiency has plummeted to a ghastly 46.3% true shooting overall, and it’s flatlined at 33.1% in first quarters. With their best player using the first quarter as a warm-up, it’s no surprise the Knicks have been outscored by eight, nine, and 11 points to start these three games.

Then, Brunson transforms. Still per 75, Brunson is averaging a whopping 43.6 points on 57.0% true shooting in fourth quarters. He’s saving his best for last.

That’s a dangerous game to play.

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He’s a supremely talented seven-footer with a jumper 95% of guards would kill for. 247Sports had him as the #2 player in his high school class. He earned All-American honors for a ridiculously star-studded Kentucky team that eventually sent nine players to the NBA1. The Timberwolves were delighted to draft him first overall, and he’s rewarded them (and subsequently New York) with multiple All-Star and All-NBA selections.

In other words, he’s got a hell of a pedigree.

But Towns never really connected with most NBA fans. Outside of a pocket of supportive Minnesotans, people were far more likely to mock the big man than celebrate him. Hell, he didn’t even really connect with his teams. The Timberwolves signed him to a super-max contract and almost immediately got buyer’s remorse, trading him before the extension even kicked in2. His tenure with the Knicks has been up-and-down relative to expectations — just last summer, he was listed as one of the league’s worst contracts.

He is emotional, wearing his heart on his sleeve and showing vulnerability before Wemby made it cool. He briefly forgets the rules of basketball and then pleads for calls. Early in his career, he had some terrible playoff moments. He is confident to a fault in a discourse that too often refuses to acknowledge greatness without corresponding championships.

At his worst, he complains about his role, then coasts on defense and disappears on the other end (or, worse, loudly commits some of the worst offensive fouls ever seen). He makes funny voices, has an extremely expressive face, and is consistently meme’d by fans (often in a blatantly homophobic way), opponents, and even teammates.

In a league with a handful of players who have black holes for souls, this writer decided a few years back that KAT was “the most annoying player in the NBA.”

Somewhere along the way, Towns became, if not an underdog, underappreciated. And yet, he has persisted, improving and growing step by step. Two straight Conference Finals appearances (one in the West, one in the East) set the stage. Now, this magical postseason run has seen KAT upend every narrative.

This is one case where the stats tell much of the story. He’s willingly excised his worst shots to focus on playmaking and defense:

That’s a dramatic uptick in efficiency and playmaking (on both sides of the ball). New York has dominated in these playoffs to an unprecedented degree, and Towns has the best on/off of every Knicks rotation player. To put it in exact terms, the Knicks have a +25.2 net rating when Towns is on the floor in the postseason, ranking in the 95th percentile on the attack and 96th percentile when guarding yard.

His offensive role changes have been covered to life, here and elsewhere, although it’s worth noting that we saw significantly less of Towns-as-hub in the Cleveland series and last night than we did in Rounds 1 and 2. His passing has been sharp, his shooting immaculate, and his decision-making cleaner than ever before.

The Knicks razed the Eastern Conference like they were riding fire-breathing dragons, and Towns proved in Game 1 that he isn’t ready for a Wembanyama coronation just yet. I can’t remember the last time we saw a big man — scratch that, any player — face up and so casually destroy Wemby off the dribble, which Towns did three separate times early last night:

But nobody has ever doubted that KAT could score. The big shock has been the way the defense has leveled up, culminating in a whopper of a performance Wednesday night against a tired-looking and increasingly frustrated Wembanyama.

Pre-series, everyone was calling for OG Anunoby to guard the MVP finalist. Good thing Mike Brown is the coach, because nobody on Earth or beyond could have done a better job on Wemby than Towns did last night.

At one point in the game, the broadcast reported that Wemby was 1-for-8 with Towns guarding him. He finished the game going 6-for-21 overall (he did have 12 free throws, but only two of those shooting fouls were on KAT). Even when Wemby did score, it was a high degree-of-difficulty attempt over excellent defense:

Controlling a force of nature like Wembanyama is never a one-man effort, and the Knicks deserve credit for their aggressive dig-downs and gapping efforts. OG Anunoby, in particular, was a terror helping off of various guards:

The Spurs as a whole made just two shots outside the paint in the second half. That’s not good enough to open breathing room for Wembanyama. Take away Julian Champagnie’s 5-for-10 performance (man, that guy sees blue and orange like a gamecock sees red), and the Spurs shot just 6-for-33 from deep. Yikes.

But Towns was as strong at the point of attack as any Wembanyama defender we’ve seen yet. Wemby is too good to be denied forever. We saw him eventually figure out the Isaiah Hartenstein matchup, and he will do the same to Towns. But the Knicks have other curveballs to throw Wemby’s way, from Anunoby to Mitchell Robinson; they’ll keep him guessing.

Towns won’t win every battle, but after securing a Game 1 victory, he won’t have to. The Knicks, who have now won 12 straight playoff games, need to go just .500 the rest of the way to win the NBA Finals.

“I just felt a calm and a peace that had to come from the woman above,” KAT said after the game, crediting his mother (one of more than a half-dozen family members who passed away a few years ago from COVID) for his collected play. “It was just fun out there.”

I flashed back to another Towns quote, from a different win over the Spurs: “Damn, don’t it look good to see ‘Champions’ on a shirt?” Online trolls, naturally, clowned him for the comment.

Perhaps all the doubt, all the hate, have polished the rough edges off of KAT. As we acknowledged up front, he’s not perfect.3 No one is. But unusually, as the lights have gotten brighter, his flaws are becoming increasingly hard to find.

KAT was never an underdog, which led to immense expectations and early let-downs. Now, finally, he’s no longer underappreciated.

[Note: I have a whole lot more thoughts on Game 1, including Jalen Brunson’s wild game, what the Spurs can do differently, and more! You can hear them on RealGM Radio at YouTube, Spotify, Apple Pods, or anywhere else.]

San Antonio and Victor Wembanyama have already skipped several steps in the traditional contender roadmap, and they’re poised to become one of the youngest champions ever.

On the other hand, the New York Knicks have unleashed their full arsenal on a hapless Eastern Conference, annihilating foes so thoroughly and so quickly that it’s almost a detriment to their standing; we simply haven’t had enough time to watch their greatness, let alone appreciate it.

Someone’s gotta give, but who? For the last time this season, let’s work through four Key Questions and four X-Factors for…

2) San Antonio Spurs vs. 3) New York Knicks

Season series: 2-1 Knicks

I love that we’re getting our first-ever NBA Cup Final rematch here. Out-of-conference foes typically only play twice per year, so it’s fun that we’ve actually gotten to see these teams battle thrice already.

The Cup Final and a rematch a few weeks later both featured limited Wemby minutes (he came off the bench in one and left early with a knee tweak in the other) and several players we likely won’t see much of this series (Mo Diawara! Harrison Barnes! Tyler Kolek!). However, the near-full-strength Knicks did whoop a healthy Spurs team on March 1st, 114-89. If scoring just 89 points doesn’t raise your eyebrows, well, it should.

Only two teams beat San Antonio in the regular season after my Far Side calendar flipped to February: Denver (three times! What a rock-paper-scissors matchup we had in the West’s top three this season) and New York, in this game. The Knicks put on a defensive clinic, forcing Wemby into seven turnovers and flying around on the perimeter guys. It helped that the Spurs also missed 74% of their three-point attempts.

Re-watching that game was particularly instructive for understanding how these two teams will initially try to match up. Unless stated otherwise, that’s the game I’ll refer to most often below.

Before we begin, I wanted to spare a moment for the coaches, Mitch Johnson and Mike Brown. Johnson was my pick for Coach of the Year over real-life winner Joe Mazzulla and JB Bickerstaff. I’ve been so impressed with his ability to maximize his players’ strengths and mitigate their weaknesses all year long. He deserves immense credit for alchemizing this hodgepodge of odd players into a top-five halfcourt offense.

Brown has bathed himself in glory-colored Gatorade since reinventing the Knicks’ offense on the fly during the Atlanta series. He’s had the Midas touch with every play call and every rotation change. The controversial switch from Tom Thibodeau to Brown could not have gone better, even if there were some bumps along the way.

Both coaches have been phenomenal, and I wanted to make sure they received their flowers before we spend two weeks criticizing them for every micro-decision that went wrong.

X-Factor 1: Josh Hart

Every conversation about New York circles back to Josh Hart eventually, so let’s just get it out of the way. Victor Wembanyama will spend large chunks of this series “defending” Hart so that he can protect the paint; the up-and-down wing has to make the big man pay.

It’s a strategy the Knicks have seen countless times, and Hart knows what to do. Set a million screens on and off the ball, attack the offensive glass, cut constantly, sprint out in transition, and, yeah, shoot a few long ones.

Hart’s impact waxes and wanes on a nightly basis, but the Knicks are unbeatable when he’s at full moon. Of course, Wembanyama isn’t your typical rim protector. He can sag off of Hart without fully ignoring him, guarding both man and space. It is at least a little interesting that Hart had a plus/minus of zero in 30 minutes despite the Knicks winning by 25 points in that March meeting.

Coach Mike Brown had a few nifty tricks up his sleeve to take advantage of Wemby’s inattentiveness, including this gorgeous play:

But bad Josh Hart still showed up plenty:

The Knicks have options if Hart is benched, but none are perfect. Deuce McBride is a heck of a shooter, but his short stature will leave him vulnerable to the bruising drives of Steph Castle and Dylan Harper. Landy Shamet went 11-for-12 from deep against Cleveland, but coaches haven’t always trusted his defense. Mitchell Robinson’s broken hand could limit his viability (more on that below).

Hart’s defensive size and versatility are crucial to containing the Spurs’ guards. He must stay relevant offensively.

Key Question 1: Can the Knicks keep tilting the map?

I wrote about how a key part of the Knicks’ remarkably hot shooting has been their dramatic increase in attempts at the rim in these playoffs, which has gone hand in hand with the shift to a KAT-as-hub offense focused on backdoor cuts and north-south actions.

But Victor Wembanyama is the ultimate force field. Against the Spurs, just 25.6% of OKC’s shots came at the rim, down from 31.6% in the regular season overall. That’s a very meaningful difference. And the Thunder made only 55.5% of those shots, a whopping -13.1% drop!

So OKC took fewer layups and made way fewer. That’s brutal. We saw Wemby’s effect against the Knicks, too. Look at poor Mikal Bridges freeze up like a mouse caught in an eagle’s shadow:

(Note, again, the way Wemby is comfortable playing off of Hart.)

New York actually does have some advantages here over the Thunder, though. The Knicks are a much more dynamic jump-shooting team — they can make the Spurs pay for gapping too heavily into the passing lane by bombing threes, and they can draw Wembanyama and Luke Kornet out of the paint with a barrage of 15-footers. Hart will have moments when his passing, cutting, and sheer activity open up opportunities.

Against Cleveland, New York also showed an ability to toggle between the Towns offense and their traditional heliocentric Brunson attack. That’s already more variety than the Jalen Williams-less Thunder could muster.

Outside of Alex Caruso turning into the sun for a few games, the Thunder didn’t have the horses to make SA consistently pay for over-indexing on the paint. New York does. Softening up the Spurs’ defensive shell from the outside should make it easier to pry open and get to the tasty meat in the middle.

X-Factor 2: Devin Vassell

I love when players make me look smart.

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It’s so hard to pick one moment. Every play flashes in my mind and is gone, a lightbulb jolting to life for just a second before flickering away, leaving spots and darkness before the next one pops.

Steph Castle and Dylan Harper grabbing each other’s jerseys and cheering, spittle flying, screaming raucously in each other’s faces. Luke Kornet, who had been the LVP of the series to this point, pulling off one of the greatest and most important chasedown blocks we’ve seen since guys named LeBron and Tayshaun (my god, look at the time and score in that clip) were doing their thing. The Harper three to put the Spurs up 12 that, in retrospect, put the final nail in OKC’s vampire coffin (despite some incredible Cason Wallace responses). Wemby dunking Chet Holmgren into oblivion yet again. An ailing Fox headily fouling in the last seconds to snuff out OKC’s last-gasp comeback attempt — arguably his best on-court play of the last two weeks.

I think, for me, it might be an earlier moment. An exhausted Wembanyama leaning with his full body weight on veteran Bismack Biyombo’s shoulders, catching his breath and, perhaps, some inspiration. It was a couple of seconds of on-brand but still unexpected vulnerability. A reminder that despite Wembanyama’s superhuman size and skill, he’s still a mere mortal, albeit one whose real power is not caring about outside judgment.1

Anyway, I’m rambling. The San Antonio Spurs triumphed in one of the highest-level series we’ve ever seen. They advance to the Finals to face the New York Knicks, the hottest-shooting team in NBA history (literally!). We haven’t seen a team this young and this untested advance this far in the modern era. Given their youth, cache of draft picks, and general awesomeness, there’s no reason to think a healthy-ish Spurs team won’t be a fixture in late-spring basketball for the next half-decade.

Except one. Because the Thunder aren’t done yet.

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Thunder vs. Spurs has had its ups and downs for everyone, even superduperstars Victor Wembanyama and Shai Gilgeous-Alexander. As their teammates do their best to rise to the occasion, however, De’Aaron Fox and Chet Holmgren have been driving in a valley, admiring the mountain view.

It must be noted that Fox is playing through a high ankle sprain that caused him to miss the first two games of the series. Every camera close-up features him grimacing in pain as he runs up the court, and he has the vertical leap of an elephant right now.

I am sympathetic. However, he is out there. You can only excuse his performance so much. Fox is averaging just 10.3 points per game while shooting 33.3% from the field and going 2-for-15 from deep. Those are abysmal numbers by any standard.

It’s been particularly egregious in the paint, where Fox has looked perfectly spry getting to his spots before blowing looks he typically makes in his sleep:

The Thunder have increasingly taken advantage of Fox’s ailment, and he’s shot worse in each game: 50% from the field in Game 3 (his first), then 38.5%, then 26.7%, then 11.1% last night. That’s not the trendline San Antonio wants to see going into Game 7. And even those numbers might be whitewashing his impact; it’s felt like a disproportionate amount of his scoring has happened near the end of games, when they’ve typically already been decided.

Don’t get me wrong, Fox’s mere presence has had some positive halo effects. His return has sutured what looked like a deadly wound. As fantastic as Stephon Castle has been at times, he’s not yet capable of being the sole point guard for 40+ minutes per night. Castle had a record-setting 20 turnovers in the first two games, and the Spurs as a squad averaged 21 turnovers per match.

Live-ball turnovers are the petrol in Oklahoma City’s engine. Whatever else Fox has done (not much!), he’s cut OKC’s fuel line. The Spurs haven’t had more than 15 turnovers in any game since Fox’s return, and Castle has had just six turnovers in his last four games combined.

Still, Fox has to cook more with the opportunities he has. All-Stars need to do more than steady the ship if they’re healthy enough to play. Even just making the occasional stand-still jumper would be nice!

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Daigneault famously goes deep into his bench, but without the consistency that most players crave. Two years ago, in a playoff series against the Pelicans, he explained his philosophy:

“There’s advantages to having depth… You never know what a series is gonna deal you in terms of the hand you have to play. If we (played) 8 guys last night, and we had to pivot to 1 of the other 3/4 that didn't play, now you're like dusting them off. They haven't gotten in a game yet. They haven't touched the floor yet. They haven't gotten a taste yet. And now you're going to them and it's somewhat reactive.”

And last year, reserve Aaron Wiggins had this to say:

“Mark is gonna experiment… He’s gonna throw you in there when you least expect it. There’s gonna be moments where you might be ready and he doesn’t go to. And there’s gonna be moments when you’re not ready and he calls you. You gotta be as ready as you can be," Wiggins continued.

All this tinkering has led to a battle-hardened team, one where even the deepest bench guy can come in and produce. For example, Kenrich Williams played just two minutes in Games 1-3 combined before logging 23 in Game 4 and 12 in Game 5. Nearly all Thunder players get the call-up eventually; they just don’t know when.

I like perusing nbarotations.info to see how team minutes are distributed across games. It shows a stark difference in how Daigneault and his Spurs counterpart Mitch Johnson have managed their rotations:

On the left, the clusters of deep red highlight the heavy minutes load of the Spurs’ healthy starters. The smattering of orange on the right signifies how many more players have logged consistently inconsistent minutes for the Thunder.

Daigneault believes that all of his players have strengths and abilities worth utilizing, but when and how to deploy them may change nightly. That extends even to his superstar. Early in this series against the Spurs, Daigneault was subbing Shai Gilgeous-Alexander in and out to match Victor Wembanyama’s minutes; he’s since abandoned that philosophy.

Injuries have played a part in both teams’ rotation decisions, of course. Jalen Williams, Ajay Mitchell, and De’Aaron Fox have missed multiple games, and Dylan Harper hasn’t been the same since tweaking his adductor in Game 2. Wembanyama has been holding his wrist, Holmgren sprayed blood all over the court in Game 4, and Alex Caruso tweaked an ankle last night. And that’s just off the top of my head!

But when it’s a battle of attrition, particularly one this physical, the deeper team has an advantage. In a series where neither Wembanyama nor Gilgeous-Alexander have consistently looked their best (that’s what happens when you’re the focal point of the league’s two most ferocious defenses), the Thunder’s supporting cast has been quicker to rise to the challenge. That’s particularly true for their trio of bench guards.

It starts with Caruso, whose performance this series has been volcanic. Caleb Martin’s explosion against the Celtics in 2023 and Danny Green’s preposterously hot shooting against Miami in the 2013 NBA Finals (he made 25 threes in the series’ first five games! And that was before Steph Curry changed basketball forever, mind you) have always been at the top of my “WTF” role player playoff power rankings. Caruso is fast on his way there.

In five games so far, Caruso is averaging 17 points while shooting 57% from the floor, and he’s somehow shooting a better percentage from three (he’s 18-for-31 from downtown). He’s long been one of the five best defenders in the NBA, and that hasn’t let up one bit. Add it all up, and he’s tied with Victor Wembanyama for the highest cumulative plus/minus in the series at +42. (It’s probably worth pointing out that five different Knicks had a significantly higher plus/minus than that.) It’s always been the case that good things happen for the Thunder when Caruso is on the floor, but it’s been particularly true now, at the most important times. His ability to scale up production to match circumstance is a superpower.

Caruso isn’t the only one. Jared McCain, acquired from the 76ers in a much-bemoaned midseason trade, has embraced the scoring role previously occupied by Williams and Mitchell with the gleeful abandon of a kid let loose in an amusement park.

McCain is averaging more field goal attempts per possession than Shai Gilgeous-Alexander. He’s not even pretending to pass, launching 70 often wildly errant field goal attempts to just five assists so far in the series (and three of those dimes came in Game 2). His shooting splits have been — oh god, my computer just screamed.

And yet, McCain has also done just enough at the right times to keep the Spurs on their heels. He’s always on the attack; it’s infectious. Nine invaluable points in the third quarter last night prevented San Antonio from making a run. 24 points keyed a Game 3 win, highlighted by this inspiring take right into the chest of Wembanyama:

(All that said, I thought of Dion Waiters on the Kevin Durant/Russell Westbrook teams after SGA had to tell McCain to “Calm the f*** down.”)

McCain has had some terrible nights. But role players aren’t expected to be stars all the time, and few have McCain’s ceiling as a scorer and off-ball shooter. When McCain plays well, the Thunder win. He only needs to play well in one of the next two games to power OKC back to the Finals.

And if things go really well, even that might not be necessary. Cason Wallace is getting his hands on every single ball like a basketball-obsessed octopus. He’s averaging 6.4 deflections per game, half again as many as his league-leading regular-season mark of 4.4. It’s unbelievable that the Thunder bring two of the league’s five best perimeter defenders off the bench. Wallace’s ability to evaporate passing lanes like an expanding sun has freaked out the Spurs ballhandlers. Even when you think he’s beat, check the rear-view mirror. He’s a homing missile locked onto the ball:

In the silver-and-black jerseys, the tale is different. Keldon Johnson and Harrison Barnes are shooting a combined 20-for-59, Luke Kornet has looked befuddled while putting up the worst plus/minus in the series, and Carter Bryant (who still deserves more time as a small-ball center) has alternated electric defense with soul-crushing mistakes.

Johnson’s struggles are both predictable and devastating. The Spurs desperately need his scoring punch, but Johnson’s straight-line drives won’t consistently work against a Thunder team filled with digging helpers and savage rim protectors. Last night was his first decent performance this series, and it still wasn’t enough. (I still can’t believe he won Sixth Man of the Year because he made some threes and makes people laugh.)

Kornet’s inability to impact the game in any way has been even more discouraging. The Thunder have largely spaced him out by putting Chet Holmgren and/or Jaylin Williams on the floor against him, forcing him to defend in uncomfortable places and dragging him away from the rim. But even when he’s matched up with a more traditional center like Hartenstein, he’s had no answers. I’m not sure he even knows he’s taking a test.

Unfortunately, coach Mitch Johnson doesn’t have many other options. The starters and Harper are already carrying a heavy burden. Jordan McLaughlin is chum, and the back end of the Spurs bench overflows with centers as useful as scarecrows. Eh, scratch that. Even the crows ain’t worried about Kelly Olynyk, Bismack Biyombo, and Mason Plumlee.

Without Mitchell and Williams, the Thunder still have 11 legitimately talented NBA players who are all ready and willing to step up. The Spurs, even with the limping Fox and Harper, have, like, seven?

In a battle between two teams this talented, optionality is so important. You need different tools to create new solutions or pose new problems. Daigneault’s tool chest is jam-packed. He can’t even close it properly. Johnson is down to a ratchet set missing the 10mm socket, a couple of screwdrivers, and a hammer he borrowed from his neighbor. That will get most projects done, but against this Thunder team, it might be a few pieces short.

Doesn’t matter. The Knicks might never lose again, because the Knicks don’t miss.

Some fun facts: New York is currently leading the playoff field with a 59.0% effective field goal percentage (which adjusts for the fact that threes are worth an extra point). That number would undoubtedly come down if they play against either of the grasping, nightmarish defenses out West, but still: the highest playoff eFG% ever recorded was Utah’s 58.3%, which they achieved in just one (losing!) playoff series all the way back in 2019-2020.

Many of the Knicks’ rotation players aren’t just shooting better than their regular-season numbers, they’re shooting way better. To wit:

(I’d never noticed before that the PowerPoint defaults are Knicks colors!)

And the Knickerbockers aren’t doing it on a million catch-and-shoots, which is typically the most efficient form of jump-shooting; only 27% of their FGAs are off the catch, the fourth-lowest figure of any playoff team (although they are leading by lacing more than 41% of their catch-and-shoot triples).

So what gives?

The mid-first-round shift to a Towns-hub offensive style that rewarded smart cuts and strong north-south actions (instead of the Brunson-ball-pounding, pick-and-roll-heavy, east-west approach the Knicks used for most of the season) has dramatically altered New York’s shot profile. Their share of shots at the rim has skyrocketed from 31% in the regular season (dead average) to 39% (tops among playoff teams).

Layups and dunks are usually more efficient than jumpers, so it’s had a cascading effect on their shooting percentages — and it doesn’t hurt that the team is splashing 40% of its deep balls, either. Neither Atlanta nor Philadelphia, New York’s first two opponents, are good rim-protecting teams. Coach Mike Brown smartly exploited that weakness, an advantage that has sustained even through two games against Cleveland (a much stouter defensive team in the middle).

The typically contact-averse Mikal Bridges’ cartographical transformation has been particularly pronounced. Remember, Knicks faithful were calling for Bridges’ head for most of the Hawks series, including multiple games where Brown benched him down the stretch (something we saw a few times in the regular season, as well). But he exploded for 24 points on 10-for-12 shooting in the clinching Game 6 blowout and hasn’t looked back since (except to see how much havoc he’s wreaked).

In summary, Bridges has shot a whopping 68% from the field (56-for-82) since the start of that game. A shocking number of his buckets look like this:

No, he’s not Giannis out there. Don’t mistake me. But he isn’t actively running away from the hoop, either, and it’s made a huge difference in his efficacy as a scorer. 37% of his playoff shots have come at the rack, compared to just 24% in the regular season, and his assertiveness has been eye-opening.

Anunoby’s shift inward hasn’t been quite that dramatic, but it’s not far off (48% in the ‘yoffs compared to 39% in the regular season). He is no longer primarily a stationary catch-and-shooter. Now, he gets the ball far more on the move, letting him leverage his cyborg strength and athleticism into real momentum:

Brunson, well, we know what Brunson does. His game hasn’t changed much since I wrote the Book of Brunson two playoffs ago, although it has perhaps clarified with age. But even Captain Clutch’s shot attempts have seen a dramatic relocation (28% at the rim compared to the paltry 16% he had in the regular season).

And Towns, despite a reduced scoring load, has placed greater emphasis on putting his head down and getting to the rim without stiff-arming the defender. He looks so much better when he plays within the rules!

Getting Towns the ball in his spots at the elbow or at the top of the arc allows the players around him to flow to the basket on back-cuts and hand-offs. Everyone (even Brunson! Perhaps especially Brunson) is setting off-ball screens to spring teammates free:

Even as the Knicks have reverted to their more traditional offensive style against Cleveland, there’s been an emphasis on attacking weaker defenders, like James Harden, to get two feet in the paint and make plays from there. This isn’t Catan; there’s no settling. It’s beautiful basketball to watch.

Those four, plus hot-shooting reserves Landry Shamet and Deuce McBride (whose eFG% drop is misleading; he’s still nailing 41% from downtown, he just can’t make a layup), have been melting defenses.

There is one noteworthy outlier. I have a group chat with a couple of Knicks fan buddies which exists solely to praise and/or dump on Josh Hart, depending on the night. Hart is shooting just 30% from deep in the playoffs even after his explosive Game 2 performance Thursday, a stark drop from his 41% accuracy in the regular season. But dropping a playoff-career-high 26 points in a sturdy Knicks win swings the hour hand to six on the clock:

The Knicks can win without Good Josh Hart; Game 1 turned in Gotham’s favor after Hart was sent to the oak for Shamet in the fourth quarter, opening up the space for Brunson to meme Harden to death. (Truthfully, I’ve found Hart’s defensive inconsistencies to be even more maddening than his offense over the years, but that’s a topic for another time.)

But the Knicks are unstoppable with Good Josh Hart. After Game 2, the Knicks are now 9-0 when Hart scores 20 or more points this season. While that’s not exactly revelatory information (most teams will win when their fifth option scores 20 points), it does point to just how dominant they are when he can flip defenses designed to ignore him on their head.

His mental resilience is the standout skill. These are the playoffs; coaches need to know they can play their five best players on a given night without worrying about hurt feelings. Other players, and even previous iterations of Hart, might’ve hung their heads at being benched and seeing the team roar back without them. Hart himself acknowledged how “difficult” watching from the bench is. But he was ready and willing to bounce back.

“I don’t have an ego,” Hart lied after Game 1. Every NBA player has an ego; self-belief is part of what makes a player successful in an insanely competitive job market. But the willingness to deprioritize ego for the good of the squad is a necessity for any role player. Hart’s as good at wearing different hats as anyone, and that includes being a bench cheerleader. He’s developed the fortitude to withstand being told occasionally that the team needs something else right now.

Look, there are myriad reasons for the Knicks’ playoff success. Their defensive improvement at both the team and individual levels has been incredible (their 105.2 playoff defensive rating lags only San Antonio); Towns and Bridges in particular have risen to the occasion on that end (Anunoby can’t rise further). They have not played against particularly fearsome rim protectors. Mike Brown has been masterful, switching offensive identities on the fly and managing rotations to find the hot hand(s) every time. They’ve protected the glass. Aside from Anunoby’s hamstring, they’ve been healthy.

But bucket-getting is still the most important part of basketball math; they say it’s a make-or-miss league for a reason. The Knicks becoming a make-or-make team has been the dominant storyline of the Eastern playoffs. And as much as we want to find logical reasons for New York’s Midas touch, luck is always a part of it. Right now, the Knicks are on a shotmaking run we’ve quite literally never seen. (I don’t want to discount the fortune factor, but there isn’t a lot to say about it. It’s better to be lucky than good, but it’s best to be both.)

The New Yorkers aren’t past the Cavs — who came back from down 2-0 just last round — yet, and the Spurs or Thunder will provide the stiffest possible defensive test. These things can turn with quickness, so maybe the heater burns out soon.

Maybe it doesn’t.

Here are some observations, stats, clips, and nonsensical jokes regarding two of the best playoff games I’ve seen in years.

ECF Game 1: Knicks 115, Cavaliers 104 (OT)

• Do you remember the movie Happy Death Day? It was a fun slasher from a decade ago with a Groundhog Day twist: the victim gets murdered by a masked killer, wakes up at the start of the same day, gets slaughtered in a new grisly way, wakes up again, rinse, repeat.
  
  I thought of that movie as I watched Jalen Brunson ruthlessly hunt James Harden in the halfcourt over and over and over again in the game’s defining run. The Knicks didn’t overcome a 22-point fourth-quarter deficit with a blistering transition attack; they actually had zero fast-break points in the fourth quarter! It was just slight variations of the same death scene on repeat.
  
  Harden contested pretty well, at first! You can’t ask him to do much more than this:

  

  But it got worse over time. The All NBA Podcast has some disturbing stats on the sequence, such as Harden defending as many isolations in one quarter (eight) as we have on record, or Harden giving up 1.6 points on an incredible 21 possessions as a screen defender in the fourth quarter and OT. Those are incomprehensible numbers. It’s not hyperbole to say I’ve never seen one team go after one player so often and so successfully.
  

• I’m somewhat sympathetic to the Cavaliers. Almost none of Brunson’s shots were easy, and I’m sure they figured he’d miss eventually. But if you’ve ever played the game at any level, you know basketball is a dominance sport. There are times where a player knows — knows! — he can take and make any shot he wants against a specific, inferior opponent, regardless of mere facts and stats and expected shot values.
  
  Brunson reached that level against Harden last night, and when someone enters that zone, it’s up to the other team to knock him out of it. The Cavs, led by coach Kenny Atkinson, cowered, instead.

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The defining moment, of course, was the absurd Victor Wembanyama shot from the suburbs (his only three of the night), which tied the game with just seconds left in the first overtime. If the best defender in the history of basketball can also facsimilate Steph Curry on demand, well, I’m not sure what hope there is for the rest of us:

There were so many statistical oddities, outlier performances (Alex Caruso!), and strategic levers pulled. It felt like the series was on fast forward as both coaches made adjustment after adjustment. Things that might’ve unfolded over the course of three games in another series took just minutes last night. In fact, the changes happened so quickly that I’m not sure many proofs of concept were actually proven.

I have plenty to say, but I need to rewatch the game to clarify a few things. The drunken, technicolor exhilaration of last night’s euphoria doesn’t lend itself well to immediate impartial analysis, so I’ll be back tomorrow dissecting both this game and Knicks/Cavs.

But I have this thought I’m just burning to talk about: did the Spurs go too hard in Game 1?

They got the win, so anything and everything is justified, I suppose. But my god, look at the minutes totals from this game:

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Shai led all players with 51 minutes and 16 seconds of playing time. Then, the next five highest minutes players — who were all almost right behind Shai — were the Spurs starters.

As you can see from the graph, the Spurs basically ran a seven-man rotation. In Game 1. Of a double-OT game. Talk about burning the candle at both ends!

Whatever energy stores are in Wembanyama and Co.’s cells are spent. They’ll need to eat, like, a thousand Pop-Tarts each to replenish their ATP or whatever (don’t @ me, I’m not a nutritionist). That’s crazy!

If an exhausted Wembanyama doesn’t hit that miracle shot up top (and a million other things don’t happen), we’d be having some tough conversations today about Mitch Johnson’s substitution patterns. Remember when people excoriated JJ Redick for playing five guys and only five guys in an entire second half? This was arguably more extreme, as every single one of the Spurs starters played more than 24 minutes after halftime.

In fact, every Spurs starter except Champagnie played more minutes after halftime than they averaged per game in the regular season.

In poker, there’s this concept of being pot-committed. I’m oversimplifying, but it’s basically the point at which you’ve put so many chips into the pot that you have to stay in the game even with a bad hand; previous decisions have forced you into suboptimal current ones. That’s what happened to the Spurs last night. They had a tiny lead most of the game, and they threw everything they had into keeping it.

There are no sunk costs in playoff basketball. If you have a chance to win a game, you have to go for it. And the Spurs won.

Will there be anything left in the tank for Game 2? The Spurs are young, which helps. How much recovery do you need when you’re in your early 20s? Dylan Harper, the Spurs’ magnificent rookie who became the third player in recorded history to drop at least 20 points, 10 rebounds, five assists, and five steals in a Conference Finals game, is literally less than half of LeBron James’ age.

But fatigue is cumulative. The Spurs won’t be well-rested for any games left in this series, while the Thunder should have plenty left in the tank (give or take Shai, who is well-known for indefatigability). Was it worth it, to steal a game on the road? Probably. I’m guessing Game 2 won’t exactly live up to the impossible standards set by Game 1 — teams that lose their first home game typically win the second by approximately 1,000 points anyway, even before we consider these ludicrous minute loads.

Perhaps De’Aaron Fox, a surprise scratch due to an ankle issue, will be healthy and rested enough to carry the Spurs. Having three strong ballhandlers at the guard positions was a big part of San Antonio’s success against OKC’s pressure defense in the regular season, and while Harper and Castle played magnificently yesterday overall, you saw plenty of youthful mistakes (not to mention exhaustion, by the end). Reinforcements will be welcome.

To be clear, I’m not sure I would’ve even done anything differently. Far be it from me to second-guess Johnson (my pick for Coach of the Year, which I’m feeling pretty good about right now). And at the end of the day, San Antonio got what they wanted.

But I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s a price yet to be paid.

Sure, there is a disparity in talent among the remaining combatants. But simply by making it to the Conference Finals, a team positions itself to pounce on opportunity.

The Eastern Conference pits a well-rested Knicks team playing like a juggernaut against the aching, black-and-blue Cleveland Cavaliers, who drag themselves into the conference finals after consecutive seven-game series. And in the West, we have the matchup we’ve all been waiting for: the defending champion Thunder, led by newly minted two-time MVP Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, against the interstellar might of Victor Wembanyama and his trio of fast and furious guards.

Just three playoff series left, folks, and they should be good ones. Buckle up. Let’s break down a Key Question and an X-Factor for each team.

Oklahoma City Thunder vs. San Antonio Spurs

Season series: 4-1 Spurs

Most people view this as the de facto NBA Finals, and while I’m not quite there (a Knicks-Spurs battle would have some very interesting tactical wrinkles to explore), whoever wins this will be a deserving heavy favorite.

The Spurs announced themselves as contenders by battering OKC three straight times in December. Remarkably, all three wins came with the Thunder near full strength and Wembanyama coming off the bench as he recovered from a calf strain. The Thunder saved some face with a win two weeks later, but that didn’t dent the Spurs’ confidence.

No one’s expecting OKC to roll over and play possum (oddsmakers still like the Oklahomans). These are two utterly elite basketball teams. Per the NBA, the last time two 62+ win teams met in the playoffs was the 1998 Bulls-Jazz Finals! On a more micro level, whoever of Victor Wembanyama and Shai Gilgeous-Alexander wins will likely assume the title of Best Player Alive.

So, not much at stake.

Spurs Key Question: Can they dominate the corner?

The Thunder have the most ferocious on-ball defenders in the league, but their pressing, aggressive style can leave them open to hot three-point shooting. Of particular note: The Thunder gave up the most corner threes in the league. The Spurs launched the second-highest rate of right-angle triples. If the Spurs net a few early, they could force OKC into a more conservative defensive scheme.

Overall, Julian Champagnie is nailing 45% of his triples. Steph Castle is shooting 44% from deep on a respectable 4.5 attempts per game in these playoffs. Keldon Johnson, Carter Bryant, and Dylan Harper are 24-for-60 combined from behind the arc, which is solid accuracy, albeit on low volume. Even given the struggles of Devin Vassell (just 32% on the team’s highest per-game volume), the Spurs are shooting 38% as a team in the postseason.

The Thunder were surprisingly unable to keep Castle, De’Aaron Fox, Harper, and Wembanyama out of the paint in their regular-season matchups. If the Spurs are also cashing in from the corners, stretching OKC’s help defense to its breaking point, the Thunder will find themselves in quite the pickle.

Spurs X-Factor: Castle’s worst instincts

Castle has been on a tear in these playoffs, attacking the rim, nailing his threes, and savaging opposing ballhandlers like a rabid badger. But for all his terrific strengths and his dramatic improvement this season, he has two major flaws: a propensity to get overly physical, and loosey-gooseness with the ball. Both those things could play into OKC’s hands.

As a whole, the Thunder shoot fewer free throws than most teams. But Shai, famously, gets to the line plenty. Castle will need to temper his raw athletic gifts with awareness and savvy. While SGA averaged only 7.5 free-throw attempts in four contests against Castle (below his average), Castle still had at least four fouls in four of the five games he played against OKC. That’s a whole lot.

He also compiled 20 turnovers in those five contests, far too many. The Thunder thrive on live-ball miscues, forcing more than anyone and feasting on the resulting fast breaks. Castle can’t be this sloppy:

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Perhaps you were amazed by the ambidextrous passing, the underappreciated control of the boards, the quick-handed deflections and timely blocks. “30 points, eight rebounds, and six assists,” you might murmur, nodding sagely as you add, “and the team had a superb 121 offensive rating with him on the floor. Nice!” (That’s how normal people talk, for sure.)

Or, you might have counted the number of times Harden fell to the ground, sneered at the six turnovers and five fouls, and pointed to all the missed free throws and clunky floaters he threw up near the end. “Typical Harden bull droppings,” you’d hiss (probably not quite like that). “They were lucky to win.”

Whichever version sounds like you, you’d be right!

I’m endlessly fascinated by the NBA’s tragic characters, the outcasts who don’t live up to expectations and become shunned by basketball society. Harden is the poster boy for not having the answers to the test (and his persistent defensive gaffes and 30-horsepower motor don’t help). After more than a decade of disappointment, is there any chance he’s finally studied up?

It’s funny, because I don’t believe in the idea of “clutch”. We judge entire careers on split-second actions that are driven far more by luck than any venomous snake DNA in our brains. A couple of shots that rim out or roll in can determine the narrative of an entire career. Father Fortune is very real, and he bestows and retracts his blessings with no notice or warning.

But there is an exception even to my forgiving line of thinking, and that’s when a player is scared to take the chance. Too often, we’ve seen Harden’s shot attempts and touches dwindle down the stretch of big games. “The ball didn’t get back to me,” Harden said once. Mother******, you’re the point guard! You’re a star! The ball didn’t step outside for a pack of cigarettes, never to return. Go get the damn rock!

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Regardless, there is value in an autopsy. Let’s start with the most eye-popping stat I’ve seen in some time. (Numbers per Basketball-Reference unless otherwise noted.)

Knicks 4, 76ers 0

45.7%

This is a crazy number: Karl-Anthony Towns’ 45.7% assist rate in the Knicks’ sweep of the 76ers is the highest that any rotation player has recorded in any playoff series this year, surpassing even Nikola Jokic’s 44.1% assist rate in the Nuggets’ first-round loss to Minnesota. He managed to record 30 assists in just 93 minutes!

I’m not trying to say that Towns is a better passer than Jokic, of course. He has benefited from the Knicks making every shot they take for two weeks straight — and that’s barely an exaggeration. Per the NBA’s potential assist data, the Knicks only missed one (1!!!) shot that came after a Towns pass1. Insanity!

But it does underscore how dramatically New York’s offense has changed in the postseason. Brunson might be the leading scorer, but the offense now runs through Towns. Towns is averaging far more playoff frontcourt touches per minute than Brunson (and more than Towns did in the regular season), and not coincidentally, the Knicks boast the postseason’s best offense.

Is that partially a result of two favorable matchups? Undoubtedly, but it’s also true that Towns’ occasionally questionable decision-making has never looked better. He’s making the smart play instead of chasing highlights, and his timing and touch while passing on the move have sparkled:

Both Cleveland and Detroit boast far stouter big man defenders than Atlanta or Philadelphia, and it won’t be quite so easy for New York next round. But while those two teams bruise, bludgeon, bloody, and batter each other, Towns and his teammates are enjoying breakfasts in bed.

Thunder 4, Lakers 0

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I know there is playoff basketball going on, but I can’t stop dreaming about the lottery this Sunday. (For thoughts on Knicks-76ers, Spurs-Wolves, Chris Finch, and the Denver Nuggets’ tumultuous offseason, make sure to catch my RealGM podcast Good Take on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, the new YouTube channel, or anywhere else.)

The 2026 draft class has been so hyped for so long that teams have spent multiple seasons angling for an extra ping-pong ball or two. Darryn Peterson, AJ Dybantsa, Cam Boozer, Caleb Wilson, and many other talented players sparked the worst tankathon the league has ever seen, prompting public outcry and forcing the NBA to completely overhaul the lottery system (in a surprisingly good way!).

That said, none of the top players are surefire superstars. Questions about Peterson’s health and drive dogged him throughout a mysterious Kansas season, and his playmaking and defense were inconsistent. Wilson and Dybantsa’s shooting left something to be desired, while Boozer will need to prove he can defend against NBA athleticism.

But there is both quantity and quality at the top of the draft, and there’s a belief that many of these players can contribute to winning quickly. That’s more important than ever before to a group of lottery teams that universally will be trying to win games next season, whether to make a playoff run or simply to avoid next year’s newfangled “relegation zone” (which actually worsens the lottery odds for the worst teams). Trades made months or years ago will finally culminate. Dreams will be actualized; hopes will be dashed like a frustrated toddler’s toy against the unyielding concrete.

So, yeah, there’s a lot at stake! Let’s break it down from every perspective to see who has the most to gain or lose.

1) The Pacers and Clippers

I’ve talked about the trade between these teams before, but it’s still the most fascinating gamble I can remember. Indiana traded a 2026 top-four protected pick (plus a 2029 unprotected first) and Bennedict Mathurin to get Ivica Zubac. They proceeded to tank their faces off to maximize their odds of keeping this year’s spot.

If the Pacers drop to fifth or sixth (the lowest the pick can fall, thanks to Indiana’s second-worst record), they give up their selection to the Clippers.

In other words, the Pacers will either get a potential star to complement an almost-Finals-winning core, or they’ll get squat. The Clippers receive either a fantastic new running mate to jump-start a rebuild alongside Darius Garland (or bolster a fringe playoff contender with Kawhi Leonard), or they have to wait until 2031, when the pick will otherwise convey.

Indiana has a 52.1% to keep their pick. The Clippers have a 47.9% chance of snagging it. The long-term futures of these franchises depend on flipping a coin with a weather-worn tails side. It’s ridiculous!

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2) The league

As good as the Oklahoma City Thunder are, there’s a chance they get even better. The Clippers’ surge after they banished Chris Paul (5-16 with Paul, 37-24 without him) likely saved them the humiliation of handing the Thunder a top-four pick, but OKC still has a 7.1% chance at a miracle. And even their most likely selection, the 12th spot, could land them cheap depth or something better; the Thunder’s own Jalen Williams was the 12th pick a few seasons ago, after all.

If all else fails, OKC has the capital (and, reportedly, the will) to package together future picks and/or current players to move up in the draft. Despite all their success and asset accumulation, they’ve actually had some bad luck with pick protections and the lottery in the past few years;1 I have this hunch we’ll see Presti do something funky.

3) The Wizards and Jazz

Despite their disgusting record and many, many blowout losses the last few seasons, Washington has a pretty interesting young core ready to complement a burgeoning superstar. Trae Young and Anthony Davis were big-name additions to the team (and ones that look a little wiser after the league flattened the lottery odds going forward), but those guys are merely bridges to the future. They can eat innings while Dybantsa or Peterson or Boozer or whoever learns the superstar ropes.

Meanwhile, Kyshawn George and Alex Sarr have the microwavable ballhandling, defensive, and shooting chops to fit next to any kind of player. Tre Johnson and Will Riley showcased vaulted ceilings as rookies, and Jamir Watkins and Justin Champagnie bring a fun bit of nasty. (I don’t know what to make of Bilal Coulibaly anymore.)

The Jazz are in a somewhat similar situation. They traded for Jaren Jackson Jr. to complement Lauri Markkanen, the rising Keyonte George, and Walker Kessler in a sign that their tanking ways are over, but they have this one last bite at the apple.

This isn’t technically a make-or-break year for the Wizards or Jazz. But they’ve been perhaps the two unluckiest lottery teams in NBA history; here’s hoping that streak ends Sunday.

4) The Kings, Nets, and Bulls

Look, I don’t want to condemn a talented rookie to basketball purgatory, but these fanbases need hope. Only glasses with actual roses in them could see the Kings’ Nique Clifford or Bulls’ Matas Buzelis turning into a future tentpole superstar. Brooklyn somehow drafted five guys in the first round last season, and I don’t think any will make the All-Rookie teams (although Egor Demin deserves to).

The 2027 and 2028 drafts don’t exactly have the draftniks humming. For three franchises that desperately need a difference-maker, this could be the last chance to grab one for a long while. Feelings will almost certainly be hurt on Sunday.

5) The Bucks and Hawks

Atlanta gets the best of New Orleans and Milwaukee’s picks, which equates to a roughly 40% chance of a top-four spot. The Bucks get the lesser.

A high lottery choice (unlikely as it is, given that it also would require New Orleans’ pick to jump up) could fast-forward a Cream City rebuild that hasn’t even started yet. It’s as simple as that.

(Please, please, please just divorce with Giannis; I can’t handle any more of this he-said, he-said stuff. And for the love of the basketball gods, don’t flip a top pick in a short-sighted move to keep him happy for three months.)

The Hawks, on the other hand, have a talented, still-developing core that just made the playoffs. Getting a top-tier perimeter threat could make them a mainstay in the postseason for years to come.

6) The Grizzlies

The Grizzlies aren’t quite the same as the handful of teams above. They already have Zach Edey and Cedric Coward, two talented youngsters (although Edey’s health history is already extremely depressing). More importantly, Ja Morant remains employed by the team, although neither he nor the franchise seems particularly excited about that fact.

There’s plenty of young role-player talent on this squad, but they feel a little stuck until Morant is dislodged one way or another. Drafting his replacement would go a long way toward lubricating the rebuild’s engine.

7) The Warriors and Heat

Two veteran teams that have refused to play the tanking game could still desperately use an infusion of upside. Whether to bolster fading cores or to pivot to a rebuild, the faded lions could develop a whole new outlook on life with the same kind of magic that Dallas pulled off last lottery.

Wouldn’t it be fun to watch the Warriors draft Stephen Curry’s heir? Wouldn’t it be intriguing to see the Heat’s fabled development program mold a top pick instead of mid-first-rounders and undrafted players?

That said, it’s just as likely that the teams would use a top-four selection as trade bait for a star like Giannis. And trades are always fun.

8) The Hornets

Charlotte was one of last season’s most enjoyable stories before fizzling out right at the end, but this is a power-forward-heavy draft class tailor-made for a team that desperately needs to improve its frontcourt.

Few squads are more capable of quickly integrating someone like local hero Caleb Wilson right into the rotation. I loved watching the Hornets play ball last season, and I hope they can build into something even stronger.

9) The Mavericks

The Mavs, who memorably beat less than 2% odds to win the lottery last season after the Luka Doncic trade, don’t deserve more lottery luck. But deserves got nothin’ to do with it.

With Kyrie Irving likely back at something close to full strength, a summer of development under Cooper Flagg’s belt, and a better-than-you-remember collection of role players (PJ Washington, Daniel Gafford, Dereck Lively, Max Christie, Naji Marshall, Klay Thompson), the Mavericks can’t help but be relevant next season. Throwing a guy like Peterson into the mix might make some believers become atheists, but it would be interesting.

Dallas doesn’t need the leap quite as badly as most teams, however, as the second tier of prospects in this draft includes a bunch of promising guards. They’ll be okay with anything other than a massive slide.

10) Us

If you’re a fan of one of the above teams, you’ll obviously be hoping for specific outcomes. But there are two things that almost everyone should be rooting for: OKC not to jump up (it’s not personal, but how much richer can the rich get?), and chaos.

Last year’s lottery was absolutely insane. This year has the potential to be even wilder, for good or for ill. The drama should make for exhilarating television.

I’ll be back next week with actual playoff analysis. Until then…

We’ve learned some very interesting things these last few days. How much is real? We’ll know soon.

Let’s start with the most interesting game.

1) The Wolves found a few ways to attack Victor Wembanyama

You wouldn’t know it from the box score, which says that Victor Wembanyama had a triple-double with blocks1, but it felt like the Timberwolves found a few plays and strategies to neutralize the big man’s historic defensive presence late in the game. (Could they have been saving these for high-leverage moments, or did Chris Finch develop them on the fly?) Allow me to highlight three flavors in chronological order, all of which occurred in the fourth quarter:

Exhibit A: Bulldoze Wemby out of the way

The simplest move is to box The Alien out of the play before he can even get involved. This could have been a designed rolling Gortat screen or just a clever improvisation from Minnesota’s Julius Randle, but it was effective either way. He gets into position early, sealing Wembanyama away from the rim. It’s perfectly timed with Edwards’ drive, and leaves Wembanyama a helpless bystander.

I’m not sure why teams don’t do this more often. Let’s go further. Steal a page from the NFL. Designate a player as the fullback and have them open a hole for your tailback by plowing right into Wemby. Let’s see some I-formation out here!

Exhibit B: Utilize his own teammate as a screener

With the injury absences of Donte DiVincenzo and Ayo Dosunmu, and with Anthony Edwards coming off the bench and hampered by his bum knee, the Wolves used Terrence Shannon as a point guard for much of the game. Shannon isn’t a playmaker, and he’s a poor outside shooter; he balances those weaknesses by running really fast in straight lines right at the basket (more effective than it sounds!).

With Rudy Gobert riding oak for much of the fourth quarter, the Spurs understandably wanted to station Wembanyama on Shannon, so Wembanyama could roam and protect the paint. The Wolves had counters to that, using Shannon as the initiator to force the historic big man into action on their terms.

Here, Shannon sets up with the ball on the wing, waiting for his opportunity to charge. Randle is targeting Wembanyama the whole way, closing one eye like an archer lining up his shot. When the moment comes, Randle wraps up his own defender (Stephon Castle) and simply drags him a half-step into Wemby’s path, blocking out the surprised big man as Shannon veers into the lane for a layup.

You can’t always get away with this kind of physicality, and Castle will be looking out for it next time. But I’d love to see the Wolves try this with other Spurs players. I’d bet we see a variation soon with, perhaps, Naz Reid using his defender as a human blockade.

Exhibit C: Take him up top

Here’s a classic Horns2 set with a twist: The inversion of personnel.

Typically, Anthony Edwards would be the ballhandler, and Victor Wembanyama would be guarding one of the big men preparing to set a screen (or perhaps one of the shooters in the corner). Instead, the Wolves have Shannon take the rock, putting Wembanyama at the point of attack, and use Edwards as a surprise screener. Wemby’s not used to having his head on a swivel that high up, and he never sees Edwards’ steel-toed screen coming. Steph Castle is a bit too slow to recognize what’s happening, and he commits the foul.

Beautiful design (Jaden McDaniels’ meandering cut to the corner and fake screen on Dylan Harper occupies two defenders), beautiful execution.

There were a lot of interesting tactical adjustments in the fourth quarter, the most noteworthy of which was Rudy Gobert’s absence (he played just one minute!). The Shannon-centric actions work because Gobert isn’t in the middle mucking things up, and the Wolves scored a whopping 35 points in the fourth quarter.

That said, Gobert’s defense was excellent all game, and the Spurs scored 30 in the fourth themselves. When Wembanyama or the San Antonio guards play better, that offense/defense trade-off might not be worth it.

But it was for Game 1.

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Come with me. Buckle in. I want to test-drive a take like it’s a used minivan, and I need someone to ride shotgun. Make sure the seats are comfy; help me navigate.

In case you haven’t heard, the NBA presented a new proposal to fix tanking the other day. People hate it.

But what if the NBA lottery reform is fine? What if it’s actually — gasp — good? I’m sorry, but I did tell you to strap in your seatbelts.

The new rules are a little complicated at first glance1, so let Sportico’s Lev Akabas simplify things for us:

Basically, the odds are flat for most of the lottery teams. Notice that the worst teams actually get slightly shorter odds, the so-called “relegation zone,” and a few of the play-in teams will get new odds, too.

Other important rules: No team can get the #1 pick two years in a row; no team can get a top-five selection three years in a row; the worst team’s floor is the 12th pick, while everyone else could fall as far as #16; and the league reserves the right to punish teams they deem to be tankers by changing draft odds for the offending teams.

Also, the reforms will sunset after the 2029 draft, allowing changes or modifications before renewal. There’s an exit clause built in.

Many of the same fans and media members who lambasted the NBA for this year’s widespread tanking have also lambasted this proposed solution2. I find that curious, given that it directly addresses the problem — and might have some unintended benefits, not just unintended drawbacks.

Let’s start with a few basic ideas. Completely decoupling record from draft position is a bridge too far for the league right now. Any system that ties win/loss record to draft position is prone to some sort of manipulation. There will always be ways to game the system.

The first obvious question: Will some team try to tank out of the play-in games (or down into the second game, to have their cake and eat it, too)? Maybe. We’ve already seen teams do that, notably the Dallas Mavericks after Luka Doncic was hurt back in 2023, but I don’t really buy it becoming a widespread crisis.

Few owners will be willing to forego potential playoff revenue for slightly increased odds at a better draft pick. Think of the 8-seed Heat making the NBA Finals a few years ago, or this year’s Magic team coming out and taking a commanding lead over the Pistons. Miracles can only happen if you allow them to.

Some teams will try to drop to 9/10 or lose the first play-in game anyway, but the league will be watching carefully. They’ll undoubtedly threaten to change draft odds for the most blatant tomfoolery. (I’m doubtful the league would ever actually do that, but perhaps the threat is enough.) And teams also cannot protect picks in the 12th-15th slots going forward, minimizing some weird protected-pick nonsense.

Regardless, we might see one or two process-oriented GMs lose a couple of games down the stretch on purpose. Which is way, way fewer than what we see today, when we had nine separate teams tanking dozens of games!

Adam Silver said a very basic truth: “We should have a system where you should hate to lose. It shouldn’t be a badge of honor to lose. Losing should be uncomfortable.” Undeniably, this system will result in more teams attempting to win more games. The cumulative on-court product will be better, period.

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The more legitimate complaint I hear about this system is that it punishes bad teams for being bad. Some decent teams will be getting good picks, while some terrible teams — perhaps most terrible teams! — will get worse picks. They might get worse picks for a long while.

My question: Are we sure that’s a problem? It certainly goes against American sports precedent and this idea we have of “fairness,” but how fair is it that teams that try to win today are punished? How fair is it that the current system incentivizes losing, makes losing the best choice for a third of the league? Not much of a system, if you ask me.

Right now, the worst place to be is in the middle. Teams know that, leading to an increasing barbell distribution in team quality. The dirty secret of the NBA is that it’s not hard to be competitive (not now, at least; we’ll see how much harder it becomes). It’s very hard to be great, but it’s pretty easy for a team to win 33 games.

This system could well end with decent teams like this year’s Orlando Magic or Miami Heat or Phoenix Suns getting a top-five pick, perhaps even the first pick, while the Washington Wizards or Sacramento Kings of the world end up picking 15th.

That’s a surface-level bummer, but shouldn’t we want to reward try-hard teams for, you know, trying hard? It would make for an even more thrilling lottery. Instead of sending the next Victor Wembanyama to some no-hope franchise that will need years to surround them with a winning cast, he could land with a team with a real infrastructure, a real culture, and a real path to winning tomorrow. Not, like, three seasons from now, if things break right and they get lucky while tanking for a few more years. Better players will be placed in better environments sooner.

Are we sad that the Spurs won 34 games last season, only for Lady Luck to hand them the second pick and Dylan Harper? (Sure, San Antonio tanked to get Wembanyama, but this is illustrative. He would’ve gone somewhere, and a similar situation would’ve played out.) Harper has been an instrumental part of the only team in the league that gave the Thunder a real fight in the regular season. We should want more of that, and we’d get more in this new system.

Middling teams can keep trying to improve without blowing it up or trading the whole kitchen for a past-their-prime superstar. More trampolines will be available to jump them from feisty to great. The playoff landscape could wildly change overnight. I’m excited for that!3

And the race to avoid the relegation zone will make for some late-season drama even for non-playoff teams. Imagine some of these double-tank games from last year if both teams were desperate to win instead of lose.

It might be harder for bad teams to get better, faster, but that doesn’t mean they can’t improve. Instead of some team like the Utah Jazz sitting or trading everyone with a pulse by February for three straight years (only to suffer poor lottery luck anyway), they can fully unleash Will Hardy to coach his ass off (and man, Hardy must be chomping at the bit).4 They can invest in their analytics and performance staff. They can find diamonds in the rough and work on polishing them, instead of disposing of the half-finished rocks at the nearest convenient thrift shop for pennies.

Tanking teams were happy to skimp on the margins. No more. Now, the worst we might see is an attempt at a controlled ascent, rather than a terminal-velocity plunge.

Heck, the NBA might even consider changing future CBAs to encourage other means of acquiring superstars, like via free agency. Imagine that!

One more fun thing I haven’t seen anyone else discuss: This could have a major impact on the trade market. More teams will suddenly have access to picks with a higher expected value. Does that mean that acquiring a super-duper star like Mikal Bridges only costs, say, three first-round picks instead of five? (Sorry, Knicks fans, but you were riding way too high after last night’s ghastly, unhinged beatdown of the Hawks.) If the asking price for stars is one or two fewer firsts, more teams will have the ability to make those trades. More potential trade partners should lead to more movement (although, to be fair, it’s almost impossible to imagine a frothier trade market than we’ve seen in the last few years).

Yes, there will be casualties. Some team, perhaps teams, will have a bottom-three record and miss out on a top-10 pick. It might happen again. Harden your hearts, and prepare to suffer.

But you know what? I’m ready and willing to sacrifice a few lambs. You know how I feel about sheep. If one or two teams are collateral damage for a few years, but the league is objectively more enjoyable for the other 28 squads, that’s a price that I’m willing to pay. I want avenues for decent teams to become great at least as much as I want avenues for bad teams to become decent. We need more titans duking it out in the clouds, not more bottom-feeders scrabbling in the mud.

No system is perfect, and better (albeit more dramatic) ideas exist. I do have a few qualms with this one. Perhaps there should’ve been a bridge year to allow teams to reposition accordingly. I do think the floor of 12th for the worst record is a bit too punitive (can we make it, like, eighth?), but that’s a small problem whose fix might result in the exact kind of tanking this aims to eliminate. And, yeah, I’m worried that OKC will swashbuckle into the first overall pick in the next few years (which they might have anyway).

So I understand why a lot of smart people think this is a dumb idea. The Interwebs are a bloodbath. And yet, there’s a good chance this reform will work reasonably well.

How was the test drive? This is just a lease. If you haven’t made up your mind, don’t worry. In 2029, we can decide whether to purchase the van permanently.

Right now, though, I’m kinda liking the way it feels.

Sure, the Thunder swept the Suns, and San Antonio and Boston look primed to take care of their foes in a gentlemanly way. But each of the other series has had some serious drama.

Let’s take a peek at one stat (okay, you and I both know it’ll be a lot more than one) explaining each series so far.

Thunder 4, Suns 0

11.1%

In the regular season, the scrappy Phoenix Suns ranked third in the NBA in opponent turnover percentage, forcing mistakes on 16.5% of opposing possessions (just 0.3% less than the Thunder, in fact)!

It was to be a strength vs. strength matchup, as OKC led the league in taking care of the ball during the regular season. If the Suns had any hopes of an upset, it started with flustering Shai Gilgeous-Alexander and Co. into uncharacteristic miscues.

Unfortunately, the Thunder are as unflusterable as John Tucker in a thong. As you can guess based on the series brevity, OKC laughed at Phoenix’s attempts to bother them. The Suns have turned OKC over on a paltry 11.1% of possessions, dead last of all playoff teams and well below the Thunder’s regular-season turnover rate of 12.4%. In other words, OKC’s strength only grew stronger when it came up against the Suns’ strongest statistical indicator.

That’s unfair, and a pretty bad sign for everyone else.

Magic 3, Pistons 1

Instead of a stat, let’s start with a GIF. This ought to come with an NSFW warning:

Good god. That scalping by Jamal Cain is the kind of violence usually reserved for HBO high-fantasy shows, but it perfectly encapsulates what’s happened in this series: Orlando is punking Jalen Duren and the Pistons.

There is plenty of blame and credit to go around for the way this series has unfolded. The Magic have played the ferocious brand of defense we’ve waited all year for. Cade Cunningham’s problems with turnovers and three-point shooting have reared their heads for the second straight playoffs. Daniss Jenkins is pounding the air out of the ball, Duncan Robinson can’t defend, and the team’s perimeter guys have struggled to make consistent offensive impacts. The lack of secondary ballhandling and shooting has predictably forced Cunningham to shoulder an Atlassian burden, one that’s ground him to dust by the end of these rock fights.

But Duren’s broad cannonballs were supposed to help carry some of that weight. Instead, his inability to impact the game stands as the series’ — and perhaps playoff’s — biggest individual disappointment.

He will garner some All-NBA votes this season, and he earned a lot of goodwill for carrying the team offensively when Cunningham was out with a collapsed lung. But after averaging 19.5 points per game in the regular season and looking like a true-blue offensive engine on the block, Duren is down to just 9.0 in four games against Orlando. He’s shooting a ghastly 41.7% from the field and has the highest turnover rate in the entire playoff field!

Orlando’s Wendell Carter Jr. is one of the few players in the league as strong as Duren. Unable to overpower Carter, Duren has proven shockingly incapable of affecting the game on offense in any other way, either. Every Duren possession feels like this:

I’ve seen people say that the Pistons aren’t doing a good enough job of delivering the ball to Duren, but I’ve also seen a guy who doesn’t really look like he wants the ball. Every time there’s a close-up on him, Duren has the thousand-yard stare of a guy who is disassociating for emotional protection.

Carter is even lighting up Duren on the glass, although some of that might be due to Duren’s need to step up and play rim protector against the Magic’s bevy of hard drivers.

Let’s be blunt. If Duren were simply playing below-average games instead of catastrophic ones, the Pistons could well be the team up 3-1 right now. The Magic have had their own scoring struggles, and Duren’s defense has been solid. But without any kind of offensive punch, Detroit is bringing silk gloves to a brass-knuckle fight.

Duren’s immense struggles this postseason could seriously cost him on a personal level, too. He bet on himself last offseason by refusing a contract extension. Up until this point, it looked like a genius move (and he’ll still earn a far bigger contract now no matter what happens). But any talk of a near-maximum contract has to be tabled for an offense-first guy who can’t crack double digits in the playoffs, right?

Lakers 3, Rockets 1

61.5%

No team has disappointed me more than the Houston Rockets. Even with Kevin Durant missing two games (in addition to the long-ago losses of Fred VanVleet and Steven Adams), their incomprehensible game plans, lackluster effort, and general discombobulation have flashed like a neon sign in a dark Memorial City strip mall.

It’s been particularly jarring when juxtaposed with the attention to detail that JJ Redick and his similarly injury-riddled team have shown. The Lakers have been the adults in the room.

Of course, it helps when you never miss a shot. LA has a middle-of-the-pack offensive rating thanks to poor offensive rebounding and a ton of turnovers, but they are leading all playoff teams with a whopping 61.5% true shooting. Shooting 51% from the field and 41% from deep (and that’s with going just 5-for-22 in Game 4) across four games will wallpaper over most flaws.

This isn’t pure luck, either. As I’ve noted several times already, Houston’s defense has mostly consisted of gambling for steals, confused finger-pointing, and frustrated shrugs. How many times has a defensive breakdown resulted in a Laker with enough time to sip a margarita before casually flicking the ball toward the goal?

I’ll tell you. In the regular season, 48.3% of the Lakers’ field goal attempts were listed as “open” or “wide open”. In these four games against the Rockets, a young, athletic team that should have no trouble keeping up with LA, that number has risen to 52.6%. That’s a huge jump, particularly given that Houston is ostensibly a defense-first team.

Down 3-1, Houston at least avoided a sweep with a big win on Sunday. But if they want to do more than that, they’ll have to start by forcing the Lakers to miss some shots.

Also, I’m feeling another outdated movie reference coming on. Here’s a bonus stat that made my head explode and reconstitute like Jeebs from Men In Black:

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If you’ve watched any of the Lakers/Rockets series so far, you’ve seen the double-teams on Kevin Durant and LeBron James. They’ve flown fast and furious around the two aging-but-still-super stars, the twin suns that everything else in the series orbits around.

Analyzing Game 2 (Durant missed Game 1), I was struck by some high-level similarities in the defensive game plans of both teams and even more struck by the differences in how those teams responded.

First, the logic. It makes sense to double Kevin Durant. Durant views the double-team as an affront to the spirit of basketball, something that lesser beings do when they can’t meet him on his level. Guess what? He’s right! But that doesn’t make it any less of a useful strategy against a score-first player like Durant, particularly when he’s surrounded by an ineffective supporting cast.

Houston is heavily dependent upon Durant for dribbling and initiation (the absence of injured point guard Fred VanVleet has been keenly felt); only Alperen Sengun (whose limitations these two games have been another story) can be considered even an above-average positional passer or ballhandler. And the Rockets’ coach, Ime Udoka, starkly refuses to play the only other really good shooter on the roster in Reed Sheppard. (Sheppard, the #3 pick in the draft just two years ago and a guy lacing 39% of his triples on huge volume, played just 11 minutes in Game 2. He scored 17 points on 5-for-14 shooting from deep in Houston’s Durantless Game 1.)

Lakers coach JJ Redick knows all this, and I’ve been impressed with both the Lakers’ defensive gameplan and their crisp rotations. The double, after all, is only the first step. A successful pass out almost guarantees a 4-on-3 situation for a moment, and defenders need to move like they’re tied together in a foosball row to close any gaps. Watch how the Lakers send two at Durant not once, but twice, in this excellent defensive possession:

You can smell the rubber burning as Durant tries to process what is happening. Even with Sheppard, Houston has a ton of non-shooters the Lakers can play off of, which makes the resulting rotations much shorter. The LA communication is on point, and no good opportunities emerge.

Sure, the Rockets score, but it’s only because a deflection from Marcus Smart actually helps Houston’s Josh Okogie get a clean run at the basket (and the ensuing offensive rebound). That play goes down as two points, but there’s no chance Houston viewed that as a successful possession.

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On the other side of the coin, the Lakers spent much of Game 2 hunting Sengun in the pick-and-roll. Udoka decided in the second half to send an extra body at James, allowing Sengun to retreat back to the paint. Even on the occasions the Lakers didn’t score, it felt like LA had a clean look:

I hated both the strategy and the execution. The Lakers surround James with guys like Luke Kennard, Rui Hachimura, and Smart. Those players are limited in many ways, but Kennard led the league in three-point percentage for the third time in his career this year, Hachimura has shot above 41% from deep for all three of his seasons with the Lakers, and Smart is, at least, a very willing shooter who went 5-for-7 from beyond the arc in Game 2. Kennard and Smart are capable enough ballhandlers and passers, too.

In other words, these are hard players to shut down if they have a numbers advantage.

Speaking of numbers, I rewatched Game 2 and hand-tracked every possession that featured a double on James and Durant.

LA doubled Durant a whopping 26 times. Two of those resulted in kick balls, which I excluded since they reset the possession without giving either side a major advantage. The remaining 24 possessions generated 26 points, or 1.08 PPP. That’s not as ghastly as you might expect, but the numbers were way worse earlier in the game. 10 of those 26 points came on the final four doubles in the last few minutes of the game, when the Lakers were nursing a lead.

By comparison, the Rockets doubled James seven times, and the Lakers scored 11 points on those possessions — 1.57 PPP.

These are exceedingly small sample sizes, but it’s worth noting how much harder the Rockets had to work to score. In addition to the Smart deflection to Okogie, Houston notched points on a different deflection that ended right in Sengun’s hands. They also had several buckets that came off offensive rebounds, which count, but aren’t always indicative of clean offense.

In addition, the Rockets only made one three-pointer in those 24 possessions. The Lakers generated two in their seven possessions.

From Houston’s point of view, I don’t understand why they felt the need to double-team LeBron at all. Sure, James can score on Sengun. But the King is old enough to remember when the California redwoods were saplings. Can he do it over, and over, and over? If I’m Udoka, I want to see if James has it in him to score 45 points. That beats the alternative of watching Kennard and Hachimura and Smart bomb wide-open threes, doesn’t it?

Part of the disparity is that LeBron has a larger word count in his passing dictionary than Durant. Look at this laser beam to Hachimura:

Durant can’t consistently make reads like that, and frankly, his bricktastic teammates are unlikely to make the shot, anyway:

The Rockets had limited success passing to players like Sengun, Okogie, and Thompson at the free-throw line for burrowing drives to the basket, but those just as often ended in aimless passing around the perimeter or blown contested layups.

The double team is hardly a new or novel strategy. There are counters. In fact, LA has done the same thing to Houston all season, and the Rockets have actually used adjustments in the past! Like, for example, playing Sheppard, who averaged nearly 26 minutes in three contests against the Lakers in the regular season.

Udoka’s distaste for his guard is clear, but he doesn’t have many other options to invigorate a rusty offense. Of course, Sheppard needs to make his shots, but just the threat of Sheppard should lubricate some of the parts.

By contrast, look at what Redick is doing with Luke Kennard, a bigger but arguably even worse defender! Reddick has successfully hidden Kennard away from the action on guys like Okogie and Eason, while the former Dukie has obliterated the Rockets with his shotmaking. Even when Kennard gets caught up in things, he’s done an admirable job of rotating to and away from the double team when required.

Besides just playing their best shooter more, the Rockets need to leverage Durant in more creative ways. They had a beautiful Horns set early in the second that had Durant set a screen for Sheppard, forcing Kennard to switch onto Durant. Amen Thompson roared up from the corner to set a screen on Kennard. Marcus Smart, guarding Thompson, instinctively moved toward the flaring Durant, which opened up a rolling lane down the middle:

That’s a nice use of Durant’s off-ball gravity! Unfortunately, after that one time, I didn’t see a play like it again. Houston devolved into running the same pin-down screens for Durant to come up to the top and get the ball over and over, which allowed the Lakers to keep doubling. The lack of variety absolutely killed the Rockets, who posted the second-worst half-court offensive rating of any team in any playoff or play-in game this season (behind only Orlando from Wednesday night!).

This series isn’t over yet. The Rockets are younger, more athletic, and desperate, and they were in Game 2 right up until the end. Playing at home should give them a boost.

But Udoka will have to bend on principles that he holds dear. It kills him inside to watch various Lakers torch Sheppard in isolation, but he’ll have to swallow and bear it. He’ll need to live with Sengun guarding LeBron James. He might even need to do more on offense than push the “Kevin Durant, do something” button over and over again.

That is a lot of mental grappling and self-reflection required in the 72 hours between Game 2 on Tuesday and Game 3 tonight. But Udoka is coaching for his team’s life, and perhaps his head-coaching career. If not now, then when?

I forgot which coach said this — eight games in two days is a lot even for me! — but someone with a big paycheck said that Game 1s are about fact-finding. And despite a lack of late-game drama, there were plenty of facts to be found.

Let’s briefly examine each series through the lens of one telling play. These aren’t always highlights. They’re just the snippets that help me tell the stories I found most compelling.

Cleveland 126, Toronto 113

This game didn’t feel as close as its not-particularly-tight final score would indicate, thanks to the combined efforts of Donovan Mitchell and Max Strus.

Mitchell, who has the sixth-highest postseason scoring average in NBA history (!!), dropped 32 points. Strus got luus, lacing 24 of his own in the same number of minutes. No play was prettier than this one:

Mitchell gets the steal, races down the court, fakes out the defender with his vehement gesturing, and drops a dime to Strus, who converts the twisting alley-oop layup right as the quarter horn sounds. It was either beautiful or deflating, depending on which team you were rooting for.

Their chemistry went beyond the numbers, too. The Athletic’s Joe Vardon had a very fun story about how Mitchell had to play peacekeeper with an official, Tony Brothers, to keep the quick-tempered Strus out of trouble. Give it a read here.

The other story in this game was Cleveland’s ability to keep the Raptors out of transition. Toronto only had three fast-break points after leading the league with 18.9 in the regular season. While the Cavs had only two themselves, Cleveland is far better equipped to score in the halfcourt. If Toronto can’t get out and run, they won’t be able to keep up in this series.

(Side note: It was brutal watching the Raptors waste a game in which they got eight combined threes from RJ Barrett, Scottie Barnes, and Jamal Shead in the first half alone. The trio averaged less than half of that per game during the regular season!)

(Side note, part deux: Kenny Atkinson was not messing around with this one. It looked like Donovan Mitchell might be done for the night after the Cavs opened up a big fourth-quarter lead, but he popped back in after the Raptors cut the margin to 18 with 3:57 left in the game. Atkinson’s seat might be hotter than we realize; he’s not taking any chances.)

Knicks 113, Hawks 102

As I asked in the preview: What do the Hawks do with Karl-Anthony Towns?

The online spaces are screaming for Atlanta coach Quin Snyder to put a wing (Jalen Johnson? Dyson Daniels?) on Towns and move center Onyeka Okongwu onto reluctant shooter Josh Hart, as many other teams have done. I’m not quite as high on that strategy for the Hawks, and I think Saturday showed why.

Towns had a cold shooting night through three quarters before finding his groove from deep late, but the sheer physicality he played with proved too much for even the Hawks’ centers. KAT drew 10 free throws in this contest. If this is what Towns is doing to Okongwu, what would he do to the far smaller wings?

Jalen Johnson likely is too valuable to the Hawks offensively to carry such a defensive burden and risk foul trouble. Daniels’ ability to take away Towns’ dribble and harass him on the catch is interesting, but Towns could simply shift to the block and mash the skinny guard like a potato.

It was hardly the best Towns night. He had five turnovers and five fouls, and his three blocks only partially offset some bad defensive moments that let Okongwu run wild from deep. But no matter how you cut it, 25 points on 13 field goal attempts is strong offensive output; something probably needs to change. Having a center in the paint to back up the primary defender could help corral Towns, but “could” is doing a lot of work here. Will going smaller help, or play into Towns’ strength(s)?

Orlando 112, Detroit 101

Look at this sexy Banchero pass (sorry for the phone-video quality):

For all the talk of Banchero’s broken jumper this season, it’s his lack of playmaking improvement that has disappointed me as much as anything. After his rookie year, I believed that Banchero could have operated like fellow Blue Devil Jalen Johnson, a legitimate point forward. So far, I’ve been wrong.

He only finished with four assists, but plays like this— the angle, the creativity, the perfect touch — still inspire hope for better in the future.

It’s funny how results determine whether a player is “patient” or “slow.”

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Tonight, the last two playoff series will be finalized. Let’s preview the ones we know the way we always do at Basketball Poetry. Say it with me now: Key Questions and X-Factors.

2) San Antonio Spurs vs. 7) Portland Trail Blazers

Season series: 2-1 Spurs

Somehow, Victor Wembanyama played 65 games this season (including the NBA Cup championship, which counts for award eligibility purposes and nothing else, for some reason?), and none of them were against Portland. Despite that, the Spurs still won the season series.

When even the most optimistic Blazers articles are titled things like “Five Reasons the Spurs Won’t Sweep,” you know things are rough.

Key Question: Can the Blazers score?

Some people are higher on Portland’s prospects than I am, to be fair. But I’ll be dumbfounded if this goes six games.

San Antonio has its flaws, but the Trail Blazers just aren’t particularly equipped to take advantage of them. While Portland has talented individual defenders, no one on the roster can guard Wembanyama. The Blazers are an elite offensive rebounding team, but the Spurs are the best defensive glass-cleaners in the game. And Portland’s shaky shooting (fourth in volume, 27th in three-point percentage) could be death with Wembanyama shutting down the paint.

Perhaps Deni Avdija can have another monstrous 40-point game, bludgeoning his way to the free throw line over and over, to carry Portland to one victory. Expecting more than that is a bridge too far.

I feel bad dismissing Portland out of hand. They’ve been the league’s second-best defense since March 1st, after all. But San Antonio has been the fifth-best defense in that timeframe, and they’ve also been the second-best offense. This simply isn’t a fair fight.

X-Factor: San Antonio’s shooting

The Spurs have actually been fine from beyond the arc this season, sitting almost exactly at the league median for both volume and accuracy. I don’t think even an extended cold streak from downtown will put their series in jeopardy — but it will tell us some interesting things about their future prospects.

As we’ve talked about many times, their spacing comes mostly from the frontcourt. But young guards Dylan Harper and Steph Castle have been hot from downtown of late — both are lacing well over 40% on below-average but non-zero volume since the All-Star break. If those two guys continue splashing, even just a couple of times per game, the Spurs won’t just win this series running away — they might win the whole damn thing.

3) Denver Nuggets vs. 6) Minnesota Timberwolves

Season series: 3-1 Nuggets

They say familiarity breeds contempt. They are right.

The Nuggets and Wolves have split two playoff series in the last three years, and the winner reached the Conference Finals each time. Intriguingly, the principal characters have remained pretty much the same in that timeframe, give or take a Julius Randle.

There’s also a lot of incestuous familiarity between the two franchises at all levels. Guard Bones Hyland was an outcast in Denver, but he’s a fan favorite in Minnesota. Timberwolves president of basketball operations Tim Connelly helped build the Nuggets into who they are today, and Denver head coach David Adelman was a former assistant under his dad in Minny.

Most of the four matchups were pretty close (although the Nuggets had to deal with a variety of injuries and still came out on top). Denver is clearly the superior team, but they don’t have much margin for error against a Minnesota squad that knows what’s coming and has a history of rising to the playoff occasion. The iffy hamstrings of Aaron Gordon, Spencer Jones, and Peyton Watson make those margins even tighter — if those guys are compromised, the Wolves have a shot at an upset.

I think Denver should win this handily, but unlike in some of the other matchups, there are well-lit paths to a Timberwolves surprise.

Key Question: How do the Wolves guard Jokic?

This is always the question, right? The Wolves made relative hay back in 2024 by putting Karl-Anthony Towns on Jokic and letting Rudy Gobert encamp in the paint like a giant trapdoor spider, a strategy that became more and more popular for teams with two bigs.

Is Julius Randle up to that task?

Randle is one of the stronger power forwards in the league. At times in his career, he’s flashed quick hands, too. But he isn’t as big as Towns, and his defense has gotten slower and sloppier as he’s gotten older. The Wolves are relatively short on playmakers, too, and they can’t afford Randle to fall into foul trouble.

I didn’t see a ton of Randle on Jokic in the regular season. Certainly not enough to draw conclusions. Was that simply coach Chris Finch saving it for the playoffs? Or was it a reluctance born from pessimism?

Regardless, Jokic has averaged 36/15/11 against the Wolves this season, mostly coming at the expense of Rudy Gobert. Something has to change.

X-Factor: The Wolves’ bench

The Wolves have an athletic advantage at several positions. Anthony Edwards has traditionally dominated the Nuggets, and if Watson isn’t around to shadow him, he will continue to do so. Jaden McDaniels has thrived, too.

But for the Wolves to really apply some pressure, they’ll need their rocket-powered bench guys to fly up and down the court, punishing a bad Nugs transition defense. Bones Hyland flamed out in Denver, but has resurrected a career teetering on the edge of oblivion in Minnesota. Trade acquisition Ayo Dosunmu has provided the exact sort of north-south pace-pushing that the Wolves needed. Lineups with the two together have a +7.0 net rating and a transition attack in the 92nd percentile. Hyland is always looking for a hit-ahead to Dosunmu:

I’m confident they’ll swing at least one game. Can they do more than that?

4) Los Angeles Lakers vs. 5) Houston Rockets

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