Every rose has its thorn. Sometimes, a rose has so many thorns that it’s liable to slice you open and leave you far too bloody for comfort. It’s still a rose, though, and the enchanting colors and fragrances are enough to keep you in the garden with a smile on your face. This league is a treacherous garden, so any rosy win carries significance. Every one has the aroma that we’re all seeking and the colors we’re all craving. Some just have a few more thorns.
The game ends 118-110. With Kyrie Irving remaining sidelined and the sizzling Luka Doncic joining him, this had the same sort of runes carved into it as many a night this season. The Wolves weren’t able to decipher them in the same way, however, and what felt like a cakewalk turned into a pitter-patter over the hot coals rather quickly. At times, it seemed like the burns would fell the Wolves, but they managed to get to the other side with all their extremities intact.
Make no mistake, nothing comes easy in this league. Nights like this can turn sour in an instant and we’ve all seen how that can happen. So Minnesota should celebrate another notch on their franchise-best beginnings with the same verve as that title deserves, but within the 48-minute sludge there may have been more questions than answers.
They started hot, but it was turnovers — and the spacing issues that weaved their way into those turnovers — that became the storyline of the evening. In the end, 22 miscues felt like a blessing, because the Timberwolves had a whopping 15 of them in the first half, lighting their chance to run away with the game aflame.
It wasn’t a matter of scoring the ball when the chance arose — Minnesota was cooking from all areas of the floor — it was all about securing possession long enough to actually throw the round thing at the other round thing.
The tables turned in the second half. While the turnovers were down, the shot-making followed it into the abyss. The Wolves made just 43.6 percent of their shots in the final 24, but they were able to wrangle Dallas’ offense as well (43.5%) and hold onto their tenuous lead until the final buzzer.
Plenty of thorns. Plenty of cuts. Plenty of blood. But a rose is a fucking rose and it looks great lapelled to Minnesota’s record.
Mike Conley: 7/10
You know a dagger triple is coming. Like you know the taxman is waiting for you to slip up or the grim reaper is tapping his scythe in anticipation of your arrival. Mike Conley will size you up and bury your fucking dreams, believe that.
He doesn’t even need to be having one of his famously shrewd nights. This wasn’t one where he had the reins of the offense all night long and it wasn’t one where he was moonlighting as Minnesota’s third option offensively. He even had a pesky set of officials targeting his every jersey tug and veteran dalliance.
But when the time comes for somebody to bask in the glory of a dagger, you already know it’s going to be him. He choreographs the sequence in his usual empty corner setting, shimmers to his right, and he puts the game to bed.
Bite bite, night night.
Finished with 10 points (63.5% TS), 2 rebounds and 6 assists in 28 minutes — +28.4 net rating.
Anthony Edwards: 10/10
He played his part in festering Minnesota’s turnover plague and his late-game shot-hunting was probably a little uncouth considering the game state and the precarious lead they had been toying with all evening, but that’s a mere footnote on his greatness.
You have to take the thorn with the rose, because he’s the brightest fucking thing in the bouquet. He’s the one that steals hearts and encapsulates minds. With a beaming smile on his face and a youthful pep in his step, he spun this game around and hammered it into the turf.
Forty-four of those bastards. In every possible fashion. He cartwheeled out of the gate, an ostentatious whirlwind of three-level dominance, and when he wasn’t stepping into triples, he was slinking to the rim and finishing through all and sundry. When he couldn’t bulldoze his way into a bucket, he made sure he found himself scoring freebies at the line.
There wasn’t a ton of playmaking to speak of — not nearly enough at times — but he played his part defensively as a snarling on-ball pit bull and an attentive team defender, and his general vibe was a gust of fresh air on a night that threatened to get stormy more than once.
This only felt like the scratching of the surface. That’s the scary bit.
Finished with 44 points (71.2% TS), 3 rebounds, 4 assists and 3 steals in 38 minutes — +12.4 net rating.
Jaden McDaniels: 8/10
He’s had exceptional nights and he’s had uncharacteristically bad nights so far this season. A swinging pendulum between mouth-watering potential and confusing calamity. This was right in the middle. This was what we’ve grown accustomed to. Unobtrusive brilliance.
There wasn’t any scoring boomlet — he had a dozen points on efficient shooting with a couple of timely triples baked into it — but he was equal parts impactful and rollicking as a defender. Four times he switched from perimeter demon into shot-blocking behemoth, and the rest of the night he spent hunting his way through screens and contesting shots.
It wasn’t a night for the history books, but this is his baseline and it’s a wonderful baseline to have.
Finished with 12 points (71.1% TS) and 4 blocks in 34 minutes — +7.2 net rating.
Karl-Anthony Towns: 2/10
There isn’t a star player in this league whose gap between their best and their worst is wider. It’s a fucking chasm; the maw of a monstrous beast that stretches down into eternity. Most of the season he’s been hitting those high notes, tickling the tenor and sprinkling in sopranos, but his past two outings have been alto and bass and all of the shit that begins to grate.
On nights like this, the bad ones, everything seems to congeal into one rancid dish. His usually gliding drives turn into stodgy traverses into a wall of defenders. The slick finishing package melts into a barrage of flops and flails and ensuing turnovers. And what has been a commendably stoic attitude this season devolves into a pouting party that nobody wants an invite to.
Most stars are invaluable purely due to their gravitational pull and their threat to unlock something at some point, even on off nights. Towns almost starts to feel unplayable, a mold spreading through the foundations of the game.
He’s got credit in the bank this season, and this could easily be injury related, so let’s see how this string of worrisome performances play out in the coming nights.
Finished with 10 points (36.3% TS), 8 rebounds and 3 assists in 27 minutes — +24.1 net rating.
Rudy Gobert: 10/10
There were myriad frustrations pulsing through this game, but it’s hard to say he was at the center of any of them. Whenever he was involved, it felt like everything was going to be okay.
He’s like your mom’s cooking; hearty, wholesome and fucking delicious.
When he’s doing it on both ends, it’s a sight to behold. He probably wasn’t even at his devastating best on his more comfortable defensive side of the ball (although he still stymied everything at the rim), but he was menacingly rugged offensively.
When his teammates find that harmonious alliance with him, he’s really hard to stop. Like a pissed off bison in the savannah, bucking down his competitors with all power and little polish.
He always plays the hits. It’s all he fucking knows. Dunks, putbacks, lobs, and layups. They’re the hits for a reason.
Finished with 20 points (99.2% TS), 11 rebounds, 2 assists and 3 blocks in 38 minutes — +3.8 net rating.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Howls and Growls to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.