Those that could be great wins shan’t be bad losses. That’s the way this whole enterprise works. The Timberwolves have stacked great wins on top of great wins this season, and the sweet taste of them all makes every loss even more bitter to swallow. But when these high-quality face-offs shake out in dissatisfying fashion, they need to be taken for what they are: a bump in the road. An obstacle that slows down but doesn’t halt. A lesson worth learning and a gash that’s worth the scar.
The game ends 127-113. Even with the long view being what it is, it didn’t make the night any less frustrating. A barrage of whistles, leaning in the same direction they always do when the Philadelphia 76ers are on the court, a bevy of poor decisions on both ends from the Wolves, and in the end a fizzling finale as they failed to overcome their imperfections on the night.
It was always going to be that kind of difficult evening. The Sixers are percolating right now — much like the Wolves — and they had their raucous crowd and the most in-form player in the league buoying them.
Minnesota burst out of the gates, but they were pegged back quickly and spent the entire first half battling the striped demons with their screeching whistles of death and never found any rhythm on either end.
As they do, they clawed and scrapped. They have spent all season proving they don’t lose faith in themselves even when things are seemingly going awry. They even managed to poke their noses in front thanks to a hot start in what’s becoming their famous third quarter, but Philadelphia had their pressure points circled on both ends and fought back late in the period to regain their ascendancy.
So, even with a few pushes and prods, the Sixers managed to pull away in the final frame, dominating Minnesota’s perimeter with the scintillating stylings of Tyrese Maxey (37 points) and the dreary dross of Joel Embiid (51 points). The Wolves couldn’t figure out lineup combinations or offensive actions on the other end to propel themselves into a firefight, and they ended up bowing out late without much of a tussle.
There were certainly moments where this one felt like it could truly be a great win, but it ends up being a respectable loss.
Mike Conley: 4/10
Just couldn’t sprinkle his magical fairy dust onto this one. All of the things — both big and little — never really came to fruition for him.
Those pick-and-roll playmaking forays with Rudy Gobert didn’t have the same juice. He wasn’t able to impact as a scorer (outside of a sick in-and-out bucket in the fourth quarter) and he was getting screened into the depths of fucking Narnia as a point-of-attack defender.
The team so often goes as he goes, and they all went nowhere in this one.
Finished with 9 points (57.1% TS) and 4 assists in 33 minutes — +-0.4 net rating.
Anthony Edwards: 7/10
Never stopped pushing. When things seemed dire and when things seemed cheerful, he was pushing and pushing and fucking pushing.
There were certainly nits worth picking, there always will be on a night like this. His screen navigation, particularly when tangoing with Tyrese Maxey, was mostly abysmal in this one, and he did have some shot selection head-scratchers when Minnesota were chasing the game late.
He kept pushing, though, and there is credit to be doled out for that. Whether it was scuttling around and through Philly’s trapping defense or challenging Embiid at the coalface, he was unrelenting in his pursuit to wade through what was often a shitshow.
It wasn’t always perfect, but nothing in this game was.
Finished with 27 points (57.4% TS), 7 rebounds and 5 assists in 40 minutes — -10.2 net rating.
Jaden McDaniels: 8/10
He had a really great night on both ends of the floor, and yet his direct opponent Tyrese Maxey just about created a new fucking fault line underneath the city of Philadelphia.
That’s how it is sometimes as a wing stopper. It’s a thankless fuckface of a job. Whenever he was checking Maxey, he was forcing tough looks — many times watching them still trickle into the twine — and making him work for everything he got. When he was cross-matched elsewhere or purposefully off-ball, Maxey was feasting, doing everything humanly possible to undo any work McDaniels had done.
McDaniels, in his own lower-usage way, had similar success as a scorer himself. He went at Maxey every time he could, overwhelming him with his menagerie of limbs and crispy finishing ability. He sprinkled some 3-point and transition garnish on top of his best-scoring night of the season, too.
He played really well. And yet he leaves with 37 heavy ones hanging around his neck. That’s how it is sometimes. A fuckface of a job.
Finished with 21 points (73.9% TS) and 3 rebounds in 38 minutes — -2.4 net rating.
Karl-Anthony Towns: 7/10
Like Edwards, there was no faulting his desire. Nothing to admonish him about effort or intensity or even calmness in the face of Embiid-shaped adversity. He walked into the lion’s den and punched a few of those fuckers in the face before they chewed him up.
Of course he gets two early fouls. He has a tendency to do so on any given night and when Embiid is flailing and his buddies are obliging, Towns was always going to hit the bench earlier than desired.
He didn’t let the night’s gremlins infest his mind, however. He attacked the rim with force and feathery touch, he still didn’t take enough triples but made one of the two he did hoist, and somehow managed to finish the night with only a quartet of fouls.
He was underwhelming defensively, especially considering the standards he is setting this season. Not the only one out there, by the way, not by a long way. But he was slow-footed in pick-and-roll coverage and a step slow on his perimeter closeouts. Overall, though, it takes some brass ones to willingly step into that lion’s den and he showed them in this one.
Finished with 23 points (71% TS), 13 rebounds and 3 assists in 38 minutes — +7.3 net rating.
Rudy Gobert: 5/10
His biggest foible might be the way foul trouble just crumbles him. He’s used to being the galactic space monster defensively, afforded the benefit of the doubt on the rare occasions that he does toe the officiating line. You don’t get that with Embiid, the big fucking gimp. He gets them. He gets them all. Hordes them and cherishes them and thrives because of them.
Unlike Towns and McDaniels and other players who have grown accustomed to the pressures of foul trouble, though, Gobert can’t fight his way through the toxic haze in the same way. Whatever rhythm — on both sides of the ball — he could have potentially found before his early fouls vanishes like a wisp of smoke. Snuffed like a fucking candle.
So, as he has too often of late, he spends the night seeking that rhythm again and causing the team issues as he does so. He decommits ever so slightly to his defensive duties (but enough to matter) and he creeps into the what-not-to-do territory offensively.
He needs to get better at that. Then again, the referees do, too, because even with his hesitancies the Wolves dominated his minutes — they just didn’t get enough of them.
Finished with 8 points (82% TS), 9 rebounds and 2 steals in 24 minutes — +20.0 net rating.
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