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Basketball is the beautiful game because of its fluency, its flow. It doesn't have commercial breaks separating the offensive and defensive sides of the ball and its myriad possessions eliminate some of the randomness that leads to game-deciding goals against the run of play in the other sports with fluid transitions.
And there are these sequences that formulate around this time of the year that portray the game in its purest form, a minute or two of unfiltered action, a sequence of possessions uninterrupted by a whistle or a timeout. These are the stretches that outline and define the qualities of a championship team, the minute or two of action that you would put in a time capsule to preserve the unique imagery of the apex predator's peak form in a given season.
I have been fortunate enough to be in the building for some of these moments, which leave an everlasting impression not only because of what you saw, but because of what you felt. The postseason stakes elevating the intensity of the players and the crowds, the impending finality filling arenas with pressure-packed drama. Suddenly, basketball has transformed from a game into something more theatrical, something even more alive.
Take this sequence from the 2013 Finals, spurred by LeBron James' unforgettable block on Tiago Splitter. It comes in Game 2 of a series they ought to have lost, but it showcases the qualities that made that Heat team special.
At this stage of the Big Three era, Miami was at its best when LeBron was on the floor with three shooters (read: not Dwyane Wade) and a roll man (in this case Chris Bosh, but often Chris Andersen). The Heat's aggressive defense is enabled by an incomparable LeBron in his physical prime (or one of his physical primes), fueling the Heat in transition. In the halfcourt, James finds a sweet spot near the foul line and dishes a dime to Ray Allen, who foreshadows the greatest shot in NBA history with a corner 3 from the exact same spot.
It's beautiful to see a team's philosophical foundation paired with maniacal and precise application. It's easy to forget all of the work that goes in to getting to these moments, much less performing in them, and these teams exact their science so meticulously that it appears closer to art. Without a stoppage in play or micromanaging from the sidelines, champions act on finely-tuned tendencies and imaginative instincts, compressing their opponents to sort between contender and pretender. With each trademark action that goes unimpeded, the lead proliferates, sending the building into a cacophony of elation and madness.
The Spurs would get their revenge a year later, eviscerating the Heat in an uncompetitive five-game demolition. Manu Ginobili's dunk on Bosh is the iconic image from the decisive Game 5, but this flurry of 3s in the third quarter painted a fuller picture of that unstoppable Spurs buzzsaw.
Tim Duncan and Tony Parker played their part in hanging the Spurs' fifth championship banner, but the 2014 Finals were dominated by San Antonio's trio of reserves. Ginobili, Patty Mills and Boris Diaw hailed from three different continents but communicated with the ball better than any second unit I have ever seen. Their offensive chemistry remains the love language for anyone who adores the game.
Here Splitter mirrors James' rejection from the prior year, followed quickly by the ingenious work of the San Antonio reserves. Ginobili and Diaw immediately spot the crossmatch with Wade on Diaw, recognizing a chance to get the aggressive Heat defense into rotation and to kickstart the Spurs' famed ball movement. Mills' second three in semi-transition features one of the most delightful passes of Manu's career, an implausibly parallel dart across the court that hit Mills perfectly in stride. When James tries to answer on the other end, he sees a wall of Spurs defenders in the paint behind his nemesis Kawhi Leonard, and Ginobili punctuates the avalanche with the third-quarter dagger.
Rarely do these moments happen on the road, probably because the feeling that the season is slipping away is harder to propagate in adverse terrain. But when you can land the knockout blow on foreign soil, it creates an eerie, bitter groan that almost trumps the jubilant pop of a raucous home crowd.
When the Warriors clinched the '22 title in Game 6 at the Boston Garden, Golden State's trademark small ball approach opened up the game and Stephen Curry and Draymond Green's symbiosis put the nail in the coffin.
Although Finals moments are obviously the most likely to define a season, earlier rounds have the ability to make the hair standup on your neck given the right context. The Heat's miraculous Finals run last year was sparked in Game 4 of their first round series against the Bucks, a game that featured the two best sequences of the season in tandem.
The thing that makes those Heat bursts so electrifying is that it helped decide the game as much as the series. You'll notice that a lot of these sequences tend to balloon a big lead into an insurmountable one, as they often come when the opposition is at a breaking point. If the game is in the balance when one of these sequences takes place, then spectacle is even more intoxicating.
The Minnesota Timberwolves are starting to make everyone woozy. In their series-clinching wins from the first two rounds of the 2024 playoffs, the Wolves have shaped two time capsule submissions that stack up with all of those above. These sequences also stand out as the work of a fresh, raw voice compared to the celebrated works of cemented luminaries; an emphatic, if unexpected, arrival. What's more, both of Minnesota's finishing blows have come on the road, a testament to the stubborn spirit of this nascent group.
Each sequence also showcases the versatility of this team, specifically the different ways Chris Finch and Micah Nouri can deploy their frontline options. Against the smaller, spaced out Suns, Minnesota finished the sweep with a wing-heavy but not exactly small lineup of Mike Conley, Anthony Edwards, Nickeil Alexander-Walker, Jaden McDaniels and Karl-Anthony Towns, which punctuated the series with this emphatic stop and score.
Just about everyone in this Minnesota lineup can credibly guard anyone that the Suns had on the floor - except for Conley on Durant. Smartly, that is the matchup Durant forced by sealing Conley down low early in semi-transition. What's critical here is the way the Wolves work themselves out of this disadvantage, getting Conley's back and then the next guy's and then the next guy's, rotating and rotating and rotating until the Suns get dizzy and turn the ball over. Minnesota's collective defense is the best unit in the NBA this season, evidenced here and just about everywhere else this postseason.
Offensively, the Wolves can often be just as constrained as they make their opponents, but when you have a 6-foot-4, uber athletic guard with a lightning first step and an eagerness to detonate on his peers, sometimes that can win you a game, a series. Sometimes, Anthony Edwards is all you need. Just ask the defending champs.
The Nuggets got a taste of everything Minnesota has to offer in that grueling rollercoaster of a seven-game series. The Wolves' confidence had reached the moon after their sixth straight postseason win (and fourth straight on the road) put them up 2-0 against Denver before the champs rebounded with three straight wins to put Minnesota up against the ropes. In a series replete with blowouts, it seemed Denver had the perfect riposte to Minnesota's 45-point trouncing in Game 6, growing a 15-point halftime lead to 20 in a matter of seconds to start the second half.
The Timberwolves, who had 38 points at the 10-minute mark of the third quarter, then pulled off the biggest Game 7 comeback in NBA history. Minnesota went on a 19-3 run in the third to get back into the game, trailing by just one entering the final period after a last-second stepback 3 from Edwards. The Wolves steadily inched ahead of Denver in the final frame before this defining sequence knocked the crown off the Nuggets' heads.
For the past calendar year, the Nuggets have been making mincemeat of the entire league in crunch time with an indefensible two-man game surrounded by laser-eyed shooters and the game's preeminent baseline roamer. It isn't difficult to prepare for, in a sense. You know the Murray and Jokic screen-and-roll is coming, and you don't ask yourself if you can stop it, but rather which of Denver's efficient, carefully aligned options are you willing to concede.
The Wolves made no concessions.
The other thing about Denver is that, even if you can prevent any wide open looks from materializing, the last layer of every offensive set is a post touch for the three-time MVP. Even when you've won, you've lost. But there was Naz Reid, standing up Jokic as he had done all series (most explicitly in Game 2), physical without fouling and showing impeccable timing to meet Jokic at the summit of his shot.
And, hey, there is Reid again! There's a great irony in the way Towns' foul trouble played out in Games 1 and 7. He was essential in both games and collected his penultimate foul at critical inflection points, but in both instances it enabled Reid to enter and provide game-changing bursts of energy, scoring and defense. Like the snow on the Rocky Mountains when the spring sun rises, this crucial defensive possession is when we begin to see Denver melt away. Murray and Jokic are glued to the floor, allowing Reid the approach the rim unhindered for the putback dunk. As Finch said, "their tongues were on the ground."
Murray's meltdown continues on the ensuing turnover. This was a payoff for seven games worth of hard work from Minnesota's guards, who made bringing the ball up the floor not just a chore, but a challenge. Edwards' exasperating ball pressure forces Jokic and Kentavious Caldwell-Pope to set screens at halfcourt to free Murray. The KCP screen brings Conley into the play, and in typical Conley fashion, he pounces swiftly and expertly, nabbing the ball and creating the break for Edwards' dagger 3. It was a passage of play so exhilarating that you would be forgiven for thinking this game was in Minnesota after hearing that Edwards shot go down.
One of the great things about these unbridled sequences is that they amplify a team's personality in addition to their basketball prowess, and posits the idea that these two things are inextricably intertwined. Could San Antonio move the ball as crisply and determinedly without such a diverse cast? Could Minnesota defend as tenaciously without the brash, youthful arrogance that permeates from star?
These gnarly Wolves' KOs are an alluring visualization of the animosity and arrogance that drives them, endearing qualities in the face of a docile, deflated defending champ. What's even more exciting is the idea that these series-clinching masterpieces might not be Minnesota's final entry this season.
The 2023-24 NBA time capsule is still open to submissions. But right now, only one team feels qualified to go down in history.∎
