On a night where everything felt uncertain, the Minnesota Timberwolves walk away with certainty. They’re certainly not a team who is capable of consistency and their soft underbelly is certainly liable to be ripped open at any given moment. We’ve known this all season, through the dizzying highs and gruesome lows, we’ve known that this weird, injured and unpredictable group have as many pluses and they do minuses. Above all else, we now know that their fate is certain. With this last scrap of their sixth seed dreams being dashed, they’re certainly in for a play-in tournament scrap and that’s a fate this season has certainly deserved.
The game ends 123-111. In the realm of losses, this feels like a puncture wound that will create some serious scarring. In the realm of mid-game meltdowns, this feels like something we’ve seen all too often — just under brighter lights. The Jekyll and Hyde Wolves showed their best and worst selves, and the Los Angeles Lakers were good enough to pounce on Minnesota’s slip-ups and then ravage their lifeless bodies.
It was a game of two halves. A game of execution oscillating from good in the first quarter, exceptional in the second period, season-definingly bad in the third, and completely disinterested in the final stanza. The Wolves had pace and verve and shot-making in their good spells and lethargy, sticky hands and a complete roadblock — physically, mentally and coaching-wise — in their bad moments.
The season has been circumscribed by bouts of brilliance and slumps of sloppiness and this game was but a manifestation of that inconsistency. It’s the scourge of a .500 team and, no matter how many games above it or below it they get, they always seem to find their way back that level pegging status.
Mike Conley: 10/10
Virtually flawless. The lighthouse that shined calmly over a river of anxiety. While everybody crawled through the sewer and found themselves promptly covered in shit, he walked tall and gracefully. If they could clone him and find 48 minutes worth of metronomic table-setting, saucy little floaters, and crisp 3-point shooting, they might have been able to steal off with this game. If they had it for the entirety of the season, they might not be floundering in the Western Conference muck.
Sometimes a player’s presence is such a strong force. In this one, the Wolves couldn’t survive when he was resting and did enough to win while he was percolating on the court. It’s just that simple.
Finished with 25 points (86.1% TS), 3 rebounds, 7 assists and 3 steals in 32 minutes — +7.5 net rating.
Anthony Edwards: 2/10
The demands of this playoff race couldn’t give two squirts of piss about the stomach bug that is scurrying its way around the Timberwolves locker room. Edwards is clearly feeling the talons of that ailment still digging deep into his flesh, but he was on the floor and that means he had to be better. This final stretch of games are a bloodbath and, unfortunately, the lingering illness is forcing him to drown in the crimson.
Everything was just a step slow. The body, the mind and the Hollywood personality. When he doesn’t have his pop and his pizzazz, he can quickly become an unreliable high-usage scorer who is prone to turnovers and doesn’t quite have the insane athleticism he relies on to shackle would-be scorers defensively.
They need him back and they need him back fast.
Finished with 11 points (32.6% TS), 4 rebounds and 3 assists in 38 minutes — -5.7 net rating.
Jaden McDaniels: 6/10
Embodied the wonder and the woe of the evening. His first half was something special. It was the big glimmering pile of gold at the end of a sweet rainbow. He added LeBron James to his hitlist of all-time great scorers who couldn’t escape the chains he strapped to them and fucking hell it was glorious. He breezed through screens, laughed at pump-fakes, and shadowed every one of The King’s movements. On the other end, he was finishing nifty drives and knocking down treys. It was a glimpse into a blindingly bright future.
However, when the Lakers rallied and the Wolves needed a hero, he wasn’t the one with the cape on. Perhaps he shouldn’t be expected to burst out of the phonebooth and start shooting fuckers down with laser-beam eyes, but his missed five of his eight second-half looks and turned the ball over three times while things were spiraling into a dark abyss.
While this was far from his best night, it was still another minute of drying time in his near-cemented All-Defense campaign.
Finished with 15 points (53.6% TS), 5 rebounds and 2 assists in 37 minutes — -1.2 net rating.
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