The Wolves are nothing if not maddeningly hard to read.
As they have been for months, Minnesota continue to toil in a season that can’t really be described concisely. It can’t just be a snapshot, it’s a whirling tapestry weaved with a thousand different needles, one that demands time and effort to ingest and absorb. There isn’t a blurb that can be jotted quickly to chronicle the peaks and valleys, highs and lows, or crests and troughs. However, if you were forced to find a nutshell to stuff the volatility in, it would only take a glance at their record — that perfectly balanced blend of good and evil — 40 wins and 40 losses.
The game ends 107-102. Just another verse of that symmetrical song the Timberwolves have been humming all season long. This one, above all the others, had to be a game where they found their way back to .500. The games are dwindling, their hopes are fading, and their chips are all the way in. A win was all that mattered and a win is what they walked away with.
Just like the season as a whole, this was a game filled with swings and roundabouts. In spite the zombified bed-wetting against Portland, they arrived with a perky pizzazz in the first quarter, parlaying that into a hot-shooting start as well as a stout defending start. They found rhythm with their big-to-big actions and they forced both Mikal Bridges and Spencer Dinwiddie into tough looks.
But the Wolves are nothing if not maddeningly hard to read.
A crisp first period often means a sketchy second quarter, and that held true once again. The script flipped immediately after the break, with Minnesota’s defense — especially in transition — falling into a heap and their offense trailing along with it. The fast start was neutralized, the tendrils of doubt were creeping back in, and even midway through the third period they seemed like they were going to let this one drift away as so many have before it.
But the Wolves are nothing if not maddeningly hard to read.
Once they found themselves down by double-digits after Brooklyn’s extended blitz, all of a sudden the beast rose from its slumber. Chris Finch finagled his way into lineups that were able to both stifle transition opportunities for the Nets as well as shimmy to the rim offensively. They hunted mismatches, cut with more verve, and climbed quickly out of the hole they’d dug themselves.
Then, it was just late-game execution. It hasn’t always felt steady — it never does with this team — but the Wolves have played in a mountain of close games and they’ve won more than their fair share. They have proven they can find another gear. They never pulled away from Brooklyn, thanks in large part to some insane shot-making from Dinwiddie, but they kept riding the waves that they found in their comeback and surfed them all the way to shore.
The Wolves are nothing if not maddeningly hard to read, and this was another hodgepodge of hieroglyphics for the fan base to decipher.
Mike Conley: 8/10
You sort of knew this was coming. He was a shadowy specter of his usual self against Portland and he doesn’t often stay an apparition for long. With how often Minnesota were running the offense through Towns in the post or Kyle Anderson’s wizened hands, Conley wasn’t much needed as an offensive busboy, but there were big shots to be made and he swooped in to make them like the shrewd old owl that he is.
He converts an early trey and a handful of buttery finishes around the rim throughout the sludgy middle of the night, but his big nuts swung low when the game called for them. Just as the Wolves were losing grip on the fourth quarter, he flares into back-to-back straightaway bangers to give the Wolves a last-stanza cushion that they never fully lost.
That’s what he does. The adult in the room.
Finished with 18 points (83.6% TS) in 33 minutes — +1.4 net rating.
Anthony Edwards: 8/10
It wasn’t a night that encroached on his thunderous best, not the jaw-dropping fuck-’em-up Anthony Edwards that will need to reappear if the Wolves are to surpass their lowered expectations, but it was a night that proved he is slowly but surely regaining that electricity.
His transition defense continues to be concerning, especially considering his teammates are also faltering in that category, but otherwise he was making winning plays pretty consistently. A bunch of drives into and around the spritely swatter Nic Claxton, a return to poster dunk glory, some great skip passes to corner shooters out of pick-and-roll, and a couple of teeth-shattering uppercuts in clutch time.
The tangoing pull-up trey from the corner, the ice-veined free throws, and of course the emphatic denial of Dinwiddie’s attempted game-tying jumper. Perhaps his late-season hibernation is finally ending.
Finished with 23 points (54.6% TS), 5 rebounds, 3 assists and 2 blocks in 31 minutes — +24.9 net rating.
Jaden McDaniels: 9/10
There isn’t really anything new about him anymore. That’s the best compliment one could give. There’s no fickle or fleeting, it’s just raw awesomeness injected into every evening that he laces them up. He’s the best defender on the planet, a fantastical creature who swallows up the best scorers in the league like they’re fucking croutons. Now, that defensive wizardry is supplemented with a consistent and power-packed offensive punch.
Even on a night like this one, where he missed five straight shots in the midst of Brooklyn’s strongest push of the night, he is able to steady himself, remain outside of his shell, and come back to make two self-created jumpers in an extremely tense fourth period. He is all confidence and limbs and majesty.
That’s what he is. Nothing new. Nothing outlier. Just a two-way freak.
Finished with 15 points (71.4% TS), 6 rebounds and 3 steals in 41 foul-free minutes — -12.3 net rating.
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