The Oklahoma City Thunder's Game 6 victory over the San Antonio Spurs -- to vault them into the NBA Finals for the first time (usually what people say when they might expect a second, third, etc.) -- seemed like a transcendent moment. For a lot of reasons. A passing of the torch, a coming of age, the realization of potential. Whichever you want to call it. Here was a team that only four games earlier had been dangling over the edge, facing a 2-0 deficit against an absolute steamroller of a Spurs team that had won 20 consecutive games, almost all of them by a hefty margin. The Thunder were only days away from defeat, a second straight Western Conference Finals disappointment against a more experienced team. Only, nobody would have called it a collapse, like they would have with the Heat, or the Lakers. It would have been, tip your cap to the opponent, and OKC give yourselves a hearty round of applause for a fantastic season. In a lot of ways, they were just too young to be expected to win. Not when faced with the Spurs, a team that was not only in that moment playing viciously efficient basketball, but that also had years and years of playoff experience and countless combined championship rings to lean on. Not when led by the effervescent Kevin Durant, a happy go lucky 23 year old who glides through (the almost non-existent) criticism just like he glides through opposing defenses. There was not the weight of those expectations. The OKC fans were so great, they'd give a standing ovation no matter what the outcome. There was no chance they would let anyone down. They're a young team, fun to watch, fun to root for, but their championships were still future commodities. It'll happen some day.
Of course they took care of business at home in Game 3. San Antonio was gassed. They had won 20 straight but out-hustling, out-passing, and out-shooting their opponents. Every break was going their way, which was a striking blow to any naysayer who professes that you can't engineer your own luck. The Spurs were engineered. Well-oiled. But a little old. The Thunder rolled them in Game 3, a result the Spurs seemed somewhat resigned to, knowing, "Nobody goes undefeated." But Game 4 was an intriguing experience. The Spurs themselves got out-Spurs-ed. OKC swung the ball around freely, happily, letting role players get buckets and keeping the pressure off of the key guys. Whenever San Antonio made a run, the Thunder let them come, took a deep breath, and carried on. It's not that OKC's not prone to panic basketball. It happened many times in Games 1 and 2. Russell Westbrook, as electrifying as he is, is far too prone to one-man possessions. No passes, too many crossovers, and a wild pull up jumpshot that clangs off the rim. Kevin Durant, oddly enough, seems to transform into a wild passer when he plays panicky. Instead of forcing bad shots, which he almost never does, he'll leap into the air without knowing his destination, and then try to force a backdoor pass to brick-handed Kendrick Perkins, or a cross-court floater through three defenders. The Spurs were poise on poise, and were certain to take advantage of the Thunder's youthful miscues. Only they didn't. They took each blow and regrouped. They got the ball into the hands of their best playmaker (and without question one of the three guys in the NBA who should at least TOUCH the ball on every crunch time possession). Durant buried jumper after jumper. For a guy who's thin frame makes it look like he's exerting his last breath just to come around a screen or post a defender up, those jumpshots could have been made in his sleep. They're effortless. His arms are so long, it looks like the ball's halfway to the basket by the time he lets it go. That level of grace is addicting. Michael Jordan was a superstar in the late 80s, when he was a dunk machine, throwing down at every opportunity. But he became a legend in the mid 90s with a smooth stroke an a supernatural vision for weaving through traffic. Not that I'm here comparing Durant to Jordan, because I think they are wildly different, but whereas Lebron James represents the power (I'm not sure there has EVER been a one-on-five full-steam-ahead force like him, and I'm not just being superlative) then Durant most certainly represents the grace. His shots are just so damned pretty -- not necessarily his mechanics, but most importantly the splash of the net. Just watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtHq9RFQeqc
As it was, winning two games at home didn't necessarily cement that they were playing for a title. Being the lower seed, it was a requirement to win on the road to reach the Finals. And the Game 5 victory was one of the most impressive I've ever seen. Like Game 4, the Thunder spent most of the middle of the game with a lead, only to see San Antonio claw their way back in with an aggressive second half start. It was a true test. On the road, having surrendered a 13 point lead in what seemed like only seconds, it required a second-level leap in composure that I wasn't sure the Thunder had. They had won crucial road games in Dallas and Los Angeles, coming back from double digit fourth quarter deficits each time, but neither of those games had a Finals trip hanging in the balance. Both the Thunder and the Spurs had taken prizefight level swings at each other, and the game had basically reset itself, with only 15 minutes to play. OKC went back to a tried and true formula -- get the ball into Durant's hands. He was a calming presence, and Westbrook and Harden followed suit. I was really shocked at how they had done it, not just the fact of beating San Antonio on the road in Game 5 with the series at stake, but the fact that this young team (that had missed out on so many game closing opportunities last year versus Dallas) was able to collect themselves after squandering a sizeable lead like that against championship level competition. I understand the Thunder have as much (or more) talent when compared with any other team in the league, but talent's not everything. While I wanted them to be able to pull it off, I also knew that San Antonio could make adjustments better than anyone, and just when you thought they were down, they could stun you. In Game 6, they almost proved me right, coming out on fire, dropping every three pointer they could find into the bucket and racing to an 18 point lead. I can think of a bunch of arenas around the league where this would have been a death sentence -- Los Angeles, Miami, Philadelphia. It's a huge credit to the fans of OKC that the Thunder hung around in that game. They didn't give up. Maybe they knew something about this team that few others did. Maybe they had just seen this before and knew they had to play their part to get the guys back on track. They kept cheering, and the Thunder, like all championship teams must at some point, simply weathered the storm. They didn't panic. Scott Brooks, to his credit, didn't send out new rotations trying to spark a comeback. He trusted his guys. If it had been the regular season, the game probably would have been a throwaway. Beaten by a better team that was on fire. But they came back. Durant played a game that was out of this world. The first three quarters were three of the best quarters of basketball I'd seen in five years. I was watching the two best teams in the NBA trade buckets with each other, each one more devastating than the last. Then the game slowed, and got a little uglier. With five minutes left, the Thunder were up by 2 and both teams were staring a trip to the Finals in the face. Sure, OKC was great at front running. They could build on leads like no other team in the league, especially when their jumpshooters were heating up. But how would they respond to grit and nails? It just impressed me so much that they were able to close that game out. Everyone kept saying, "The close out is the hardest game, the close out is the hardest game." True, it probably was. Based on competition and circumstance, the Thunder's performance in Game 5 and Game 6 were likely the two best games any team played this season (and likewise, Lebron James's Game 6 was maybe the best game any player played all season). OKC stared down the barrel of a series defeat, and they came down on top.
Of course, Kevin Durant hugged his mom.
For my taste, there was a little too much elation after their Game 6 victory. I understand the league schedules a trophy celebration, and they give out hats, and the confetti sprays. But really, the season is not over. Despite having trumped the Spurs, who were seen by many as the best team in the game (rightfully so), there's still another team to face, and no matter who it is, they're not going to be a slouch. The Thunder have almost no answer for Lebron James. Who can guard him one-on-one? I realize that's a silly question to ask even about any team, since there is no physical match for him. But I mean, who is it that will actually take the task? It couldn't possibly be Durant, who simply does not have the strength for it. Ibaka? I would assume he's too big, and doesn't have the required footwork. That leaves Sefolosha and Harden. Sefolosha might be a more natural fit for Wade, but I think circumstances require Lebron. Only, Brooks has gotten into the bad habit of not playing Sefolosha at the end of games, oddly going with his "veteran's choice" lineup of Fisher, Westbrook, Durant, Harden and either Perkins or Ibaka. I would hope that he'd have enough time over this small break to realize that he'll need Sefolosha out there for significant minutes, whether it's against Lebron and Miami or Pierce and the Celtics.
The interesting thing at this moment is that not very many people are raising these concerns. As is what usually happens with the surprising "too young, too early" teams (like Lebron's Cavs team that the Spurs swept), onlookers are ready to congratulate the team for their accomplishments before the season has even concluded. There are articles posted about "Thunder Dynasty?" when really they have yet to win even one game in the Finals, let alone four in one season. It's fun to think about, and Vegas will tell you they are the odds-on favorite no matter who the opponent, but their job is not over. The resolve this team showed in Games 5 and 6 against the Spurs speaks to a group of guys that is not satisfied with merely pleasing everyone. They might be the second-least criticized team in the league (I would argue only the Spurs are less, as the only complaint most people raise is that they're old), but winning your conference doesn't guarantee a championship. Look at Miami last year. They've got work to do. And I'm pretty damned excited to see the results.
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