Not every night has to be smooth sailing. Not every night will be. All throughout the league there are choppy waters awaiting and thunderstorms brewing overhead, it would be a boring cruise if there weren’t. There’s exulting to be done in the riding of waves, joy to be found in surviving the tempest, wins to be had on nights where the lightning veins spiderweb proceedings.
The game ends 117-110. When the wind whirled and the storm raged and the sinister waves crashed against their bow last season — usually against underwhelming teams — the Minnesota Timberwolves capsized and drowned. This was a litmus test, one demanding a simple pass or fail grading, and they passed. Not always in the prettiest manner, but they sailed into port and that’s all that matters.
It never really felt comfortable, either, and it is important for Minnesota to get cozy within that uncomfortable zone. The Wolves were torpid to begin the night, struggling to find that defensive intensity that has quickly become their calling card this season, and familiarly stodgy on offense. They just needed to stay close and stay cool. The San Antonio Spurs are littered with exciting talent, but they often leave their foot intact and choose to shoot themselves directly in the head instead.
That’s the thing about young and electrifying teams. They’re going to give you a chance to beat them twice as often as they harness their full capacity for brilliance. San Antonio let the rope slip in the second quarter, losing their lead heading into halftime, and then completely let go of it as Minnesota fired up the jets in the third period.
Then, as young and electrifying teams do, they threw caution to the wind and all of that electricity started to sizzle and spark again. They made a bevy of insane looks in the fourth quarter to keep the game close, helped along by an officiating crew who cared more about the jumbo-sized alien remaining the face of the league than anything approaching judiciousness.
Still, those factors don’t matter to the standings. These games are ones that need to be won; ones that weren’t won last season. Ones that require maturity and composure. Ones that feel as good as any other.
Mike Conley: 7/10
Turns out he can still play well even with turnovers on his box score. Bite bite bite. He can do anything he fucking wants.
In this one, he wasn’t at his sage best, but he left his wise fingerprints on the night regardless. Outside of quadrupling his turnover count on the season, he made smart reads as a playmaker, put pressure on the rim with his float game and ability to drive and kick, and made a timely deep triple.
It was a weird night defensively — he often got matched up with San Antonio’s pseudo-point guard Jeremy Sochan — but he battled and emerged victorious more often than he was slewed.
Mark it down as another reliable not remarkable night for the aging wizard. It’s become an expectation at this point.
Finished with 11 points (62.8% TS), 3 rebounds and 6 assists in 21 minutes — +4.2 net rating.
Anthony Edwards: 8/10
He’s in charge of the energy that pulsates through this team’s veins. Fuck that, he’s the whole fucking cardiovascular system. When he is sluggish, as he was early in proceedings, then it is tangible for the whole squad. Understanding and embracing his role in the team’s health is clearly an area he’s grown in, however, and he was quicker to wake up in this one than he was in these fixtures last season.
So, as things started to devolve into the danger zone, he answered the bell. Ding ding, he’s a fucking freak of nature. His second quarter was packed with the nutrients his team needed to prosper; he nails two pull-up treys, the second while using Victor Wembanyama’s forehead as a reticle, then he slaloms through the lane and twists up the gangly phenom on a sick reverse layup. All of a sudden he’s alive and his squad is too.
Then he let his game branch out into the newfangled areas he’s been exploring so far this season. A trio of filthy mid-range jumpers dropped after halftime, we got another heavy dosage of the improved playmaking in the pick-and-roll (especially with Rudy Gobert) and the defense went up a notch as Minnesota started getting a roll on. He finishes the night by burying the Spurs at the line on back-to-back-to-back possessions.
He’s leveled up. These are his average nights now.
Finished with 28 points (54.2% TS), 7 rebounds, 5 assists and 2 steals in 37 minutes — +3.6 net rating.
Jaden McDaniels: 7/10
This was an annoying night for him to plummet back into his foul-committing ways because he felt like he’d finally knocked off all of the ring rust of the early-season calf complaint. And they needed him to. While he was out there, he was very much an important spoke in the wheel, but he’s not out there enough right now.
When the offense was bogged down for much of the first half, his release valve feathery mid-ranges and ability to slither to the rim were godsends. When he wasn’t in the referee’s chokehold, he was guarding like he always guards; like a demon sent straight from the depths of hell to terrorize would-be scorers.
But he was entangled with the whistle again. He can’t escape the fucking thing. It’s almost like he can’t stand being scored in such a primal way that he is always that little bit too close on jump-shooters or always that little bit too handsy when dealing with off-ball movers. It’s commendable, he fucking hates the opposition scoring even a single point and I do too, but he only has half a dozen mishaps and he is burning through them entirely too quickly.
Finished with 10 points (45.5% TS), 5 rebounds and 2 steals in 26 minutes — -1.8 net rating.
Karl-Anthony Towns: 9/10
If anybody needed a night like this, Karl-Anthony Towns needed a night like this. It still didn’t feel like the overwhelmingly silky offensive talent we’ve watched grow up, but he was the best player on the floor tonight and that’s the first time he can pin his name next to that title this season.
And he almost — almost! — went an entire night without bumbling his way into a blatant offensive foul.
Still, the positives far far outweighed any lingering negatives. His stroke from long-range feels like it’s approaching normality again, another three triples in this one attest to that, and he stuck his nose in the trough and pigged out on a bunch of driving buckets all game long — mostly under better control while doing so.
He’s playing good defense, too. Not just this game but as a season-wide generalization. He had the gawky French extraterrestrial for company for large parts of this game and made him work for everything he got and didn’t get. Towns is still pressing a little too much and missing some passing reads he usually sees because of it, but he’s grinding through the worst regular season stretch of his career and the light is beginning to beam at the end of the tunnel.
Finished with 29 points (63.7% TS), 12 rebounds and 2 assists in 34 minutes — -0.2 net rating.
Rudy Gobert: 7/10
Sure, he left the French Revolution without some battle scars adorning his chiseled frame, but he held up his end of the bargain.
Wemby was Wemby, freakishly talented as a jump-shooter, ball-handler and help defender, but Gobert monstered him a couple of times with experience, nous and sheer brute force. He won the skirmish on the glass with aplomb, tearing them from the sky himself or batting balls to awaiting teammates. And, even if in slightly quieter manner than recent nights, he protected the rim with gnarly competence.
He will always have his moments of madness. He turned a thousand hairs gray with his late-game behind-the-back fuck-up, but that confidence is a wonderous thing. It wasn’t there last season and its absence was an anchor weighing him down with every step.
Like Edwards, although in very different ways, his floor has been raised. This was a poor night by his season’s standards, but a very impactful one in the eyes of mere mortals.
Finished with 11 points (52.7% TS) and 10 rebounds in 34 minutes — -3.2 net rating.
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