Keep banging your head against the wall and eventually the knockout blow will occur. Play with feathers and you might just get your ass tickled. The Minnesota Timberwolves sailed close to the wind in their previous two meetings against the hapless Houston Rockets, eventually they were going to get blown over. Even with their spate of injuries and a roster that still smells more of hodgepodge than harmonious, the Wolves can’t keep dropping games against the cellar dwellers of the league. But they did. Again. Entirely predictable, entirely preventable, and entirely painful.
The game ends 119-114. A game that had letdown wafting around its edges from the tip. A game, despite the differences in record and talent, that always felt like it was ready to crumble from within. Middling teams let these games happen just as often as they spirit away unlikely wins. And, until they start to take these games seriously and play as if that is the case, these Wolves will remain a middling team.
It almost felt over as soon as it began. Sure, Minnesota found themselves making charges periodically throughout the night, but when they waltzed out of the gate like a troop of zombified sloths, it was obvious that this game was no different than their other sleepy performances against the league’s plebians. They were down nine points before they even saw one of their own balls rip the net, and the rot was firmly setting in.
And it’s not like they didn’t have their opportunities. The Rockets are nothing if not giving. Houston forked over 23 turnovers, many of them unforced, but Minnesota failed to convert them into enough points (18) and gave them 19 blunders back of their own. The Wolves found themselves open a ton throughout the night, but they allowed Houston to shoot 50 percent from the floor and 37 percent from deep in return. Offensive rebounds were readily available for both squads, but Minnesota’s failures on the glass felt more gut-punching and laced with more laziness.
Nothing about this scoreline was unlucky or unfortunate. The Wolves played with feathers, and the tickling will reverberate through the Western Conference standings like all the other ticklings have.
D’Angelo Russell: 9/10
For much of the night he was the tugboat winching the pile of shit along. He had his usual smattering of defensive mishaps and his late-game execution was unusually poor, but he is the last person to be blamed for this horror show. While the majority of his teammates were content to get kicked in the fucking teeth, he was out there baring his.
It was a really nice blend of all the things he does well and all the things he has seen tick up throughout the season. The ability to knock down triples coming off screens either as an on-ball gunner or an off-ball mover, a helping of helpers including two feathery lobs to Rudy Gobert, and an increased willingness to get to the line and the rim.
He just needed a few more to come along with him.
Finished with 30 points (62.8% TS), 3 rebounds, 7 assists and 2 steals in 42 minutes — -3.3 net rating.
Anthony Edwards: 8/10
In a vacuum he was insane. The box score is pretty nutty even for a kid who is living in a paradise of nutty box scores. And, you can pull apart moments from the evening where he was just as terrifyingly awesome — a barrage of ridiculous 3-point makes, finishes in transition, and daring feats of athleticism. All the usual stuff for a fucking demigod.
But, this game wasn’t played in a vacuum. Where he is usually even better than his box score suggests, this was a night where the intricacies of the game turned their nose up at him. It was a night where his boomlets clashed with his blanks. And, in one of the worst and perhaps most costly losses of the season thus far, there were too many blanks. Too many turnovers. Too many defensive miscues. Too long without impacting the game when things were beginning to go awry in the third quarter.
The fact that we’re at the point where he can drop an ultra-efficient 30-piece and still not grace the halls of basketball Valhalla is encouraging to say the least. But that doesn’t burnish the scratches out of his night.
Finished with 31 points (64.7% TS), 3 rebounds, 5 assists and 4 steals in 37 minutes — -16.4 net rating.
Jaden McDaniels: 3/10
Just in a real funk throughout this Houston mini-series. His defensive clamps replaced by flimsy pieces of string. His corner shooting prowess crushed under a mountain of bricks. The undulating drives rendered non-existent. That slippage, even if it’s marginal, can have dire results in the big leagues. It doesn’t matter who’s on the other side of the hardwood. A step slow or a second late mentally and Jalen Green and his stupid fucking haircut are ravaging you.
Finished with 10 points (42.1% TS) and 4 rebounds in 35 minutes — -10.4 net rating.
Kyle Anderson: 1/10
The same hex that Stephen Silas summoned upon him remained steady in this one. Just a stinker. A real hold your nose and hope for the best kind of night. Started it by trying to fight Jalen Green, probably trying to get Houston’s young stud to lift the fucking curse, and ended the night with more fouls than all of his other statistics combined. Needs to get away from Silas and his maniacal voodoos.
Finished with 2 points (33.3% TS) in 12 minutes — -37.2 net rating.
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