Sometimes it’s deeper than all of the on-court stuff we associate with basketball. Sometimes it’s not about X’s or O’s. It’s not about drop coverage or high wall, true shooting percentage or usage rates. A lot goes into winning games, all of the little things and all of the big things, it’s an inexact science that packs an uncountable amount of variables into it. But there is no substitute for heart. Nothing of any worth gets done in this league without a hard hat, a lunch pail and a big beating heart.
The game ends 119-114. It was all of the heart. All of the willingness to fight. All of the stuff we fans crave. The Golden State Warriors slapped the Minnesota Timberwolves silly the last time they matched up, and on several occasions it looked like they were powdering their hands up to do it again in this one. But heart prevailed.
The night started with trepidation pumping through those veins, though. A back-and-forth first period quickly turned into a patented Stephen Curry bombardment and a sinking feeling that the Timberwolves were going to let this one run away from them. The Warriors are used to doling out that emotion, and the Wolves are used to experiencing the force of it.
Even after halftime that nagging wouldn’t stop. Minnesota missed chance after chance from behind the 3-point arc, and gave away far too many open looks and soft fouls on the other end. Everything was disjointed, everything looked leggy, everything screamed off-night. Everything except the collective heart of this team. The same one that’s been questioned this season and one that hasn’t always pumped with enough verve.
It did in this one. The shots started falling in the fourth quarter, and the packed Target Center started closing in on the stumbling Warriors. The Curry boomlets were replaced by staunch defensive stops. Golden State’s easy transition buckets were stymied and shut down. Minnesota’s stars started to percolate and their role players started to grow into more than just role players. And, before a breath could be inhaled, the game was barreling into overtime and Minnesota were running over the top of the defending champs.
Nothing of any worth gets done in this league without a hard hat, a lunch pail and a big beating heart.
D’Angelo Russell: 8/10
The quintessential D’Angelo Russell outing. Just a strafe of confusion. The best and worst player on the court at any given moment. He’s brail, he’s hieroglyphics, he’s the least readable player of all fucking time.
Let’s backtrack over his evening. He starts off with a flurry of points; a triple, a hesitation layup that freezes Jordan Poole like Draymond Green just got pissed at him in practice, and another catch-and-shoot trey from the same spot as the first. He follows that up with another seven points in the second quarter, all while getting absolutely traffic-coned defensively for the entirety of the half. Every backdoor cut was unmarked, every action revolved around his inability to guard, every collective sigh from the Wolves fanbase louder than the last.
And that apathy carried into the start of the second half. His shoddy defense only got shoddier and his shooting went from saving grace to non-existent. The team’s fire was dwindling and he didn’t seem like the one to reignite it. Until he poured a fucking gallon of fuel onto that fucker. Four long-bombs in the fourth quarter sparked the inferno and engulfed the hapless Warriors. Standstill, off-movement, off-the-dribble. Another one of his long-range showcases.
And, in true fucking hieroglyphical form, he misses a few good looks and forces a few more before fouling out quickly in overtime. Still, without him they don’t win. They might not even get close.
Finished with 29 points (63% TS), 2 rebounds and 2 assists in 35 minutes — +1.3 net rating.
Anthony Edwards: 7/10
He just kept pushing. Kept grinding through the muck all night long. They were always going to need him. This was far from his best night, it was a gnat compared to the predator nights he has been putting up of late. But they needed him. Even when a lineup without him on the floor brought the game back to square in the fourth quarter, they were always going to need their superstar. Even when he was wading through a shitstorm of missed shots and turnovers, they still needed him.
And they eventually got him. Two enormous buckets late. Two swashbuckling drives through every arm, leg and body Golden State could hurl in his direction. Big time players make big time fucking plays. They needed him and, as he is so often, he was there for them.
Finished with 27 points (57.4% TS), 6 rebounds, 5 assists and 2 steals in 39 minutes — -14.1 net rating.
Jaden McDaniels: 8/10
Earned his late-game cramp. Earned every stretched muscle fiber and fleeting electrolyte. He wasn’t at his gangly best as a shooter or scorer, but chasing Steph Curry around is like trying to pester a hurricane. Whereas most run from it, shelter where they can, wait it out until it passes over, McDaniels dives into the eye of the fucking thing. He lives for it. The greatest shooter to ever grace God’s green earth will always get his punches in, but Minnesota’s baby giraffe dampened his box score into a reasonably ineffective wet flannel.
So he earned that cramp. He earned it against Steph just like he earned it against De’Aaron Fox and just like he earned it against Ja Morant before that. He’s the best defender in the fucking world and don’t you dare forget it.
Finished with 9 points (46.1% TS), 7 rebounds, 3 assists and 2 blocks in 38 minutes — +4.9 net rating.
Kyle Anderson: 9/10
Made so many big plays. Perhaps it was lost in the shuffle as his teammates made them in bunches as well, but he was making them nonetheless. The perfect calming glue holding together all of the chaos that this team exudes.
His bucket with a tick under four minutes left in the fourth was such a big one. The team had expended buckets of energy clawing their way back into the game and they just looked cooked. They looked like barbells had been tied around their thighs, ready to succumb to Golden State’s incessant speed and relentlessness. So he got them a bucket. He skewered Poole on a drive and SloMo’d him into oblivion for a floater.
Then he makes another big play. And another. And one fucking more for good measure. The chasedown block on Poole and the loose ball recovery under the basket which led to a foul. The good-to-great pass for Naz Reid’s fourth-quarter 3-pointer. The rebound after rebound after rebound. He won’t (and maybe shouldn’t) get all the plaudits of his counterparts for his role in this win, but he was indescribably huge.
Finished with 9 points (54.9% TS), 12 rebounds and 4 assists in 39 minutes — +17.5 net rating.
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