Exits: Time for the losses to hurt

Author and The Ringer's Tyler Parker waxes fond on the end of OKC flying under the radar — it's go time for the Thunder.

[play “Jethro” - Thundercat]

On July 21, 2008, six trademarks were filed with the NBA—a half dozen potential names for Oklahoma City’s new team. The options: Thunder, Energy, Marshalls, Barons, Wind, and Bison. Energy’s a catastrophe and is the worst of the bunch. The Oklahoma City Cops don’t really do it for me. Same with the Oklahoma City Rich Guys. I loathed Wind when the list first dropped but have grown to appreciate the handle in the years since. Certainly it comes sweeping down the plains. Absolutely it waves the wheat. And it would be fun to hear guys come in for pre-draft workouts and say things like, “I can definitely see myself being part of the Wind.” Wind’s worthy of a level of fear that rises far above federal law enforcement and oil tycoons. Y’all saw Twister. Like Dusty says, “It’s the wonder of nature, baby.”

*Hubie Brown voice* Okay, what do we know about wind? We know it’s one of Mother Nature’s biggest power players and we know it can blow things away, all right? This is a fickle and unpredictable beast, okay, and a huge part of why inclement weather has been so successful.

Bison was the one. State animal of Oklahoma, sacred to the tribes, a beast of the field both badass and austere. The largest mammal in North America. Majestic behemoths, something mystical about them. Big hump on their back but make it look good. Other pros: sharp horns, faster than horses, able swimmers, can jump over fences, their heads are plows. Anything that can be used for snow and ice removal is S-tier in the name department. 

I don’t know why I’m thinking about any of this. Usually, the end of a season makes me think about its beginning. But my brain swerved farther back this time around, to when the team first showed up. As team names go, Thunder is totally fine. Problem was, the rest of the rebrand was deeply, woefully blah. No personality whatsoever. They aped the Knicks colors for the jerseys and settled on this snoozer for the logo.

Damn thing’s practically a sedative. No spark or fizz, no dynamism, no oomph. Just a sleepy, safe, zestless flop. One in need of way more cowbell. A morgue has more life. It was overdue for a makeover from the moment it was unveiled. No team in the league needs aesthetic freshening more and no time is better than now. This is a new era of contention for the organization, a chance to show some growth, and win now what they lost then. These kids have the goods. Give them cooler clothes.

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Kings-Thunder. April 9, 2024. Paycom Center, Oklahoma City. On the first possession of the game, Thunder boulder Lu Dort catches the ball in the right corner, pump fakes Keon Ellis off his feet, and drives left. De’Aaron Fox meets him in the paint, gives him a bump. The Canadian Cage is unfazed. He absorbs the contact and gets the runner to go. OKC Thunder television analyst Michael Cage gives his three cents on Dort Knox: “He’s got a great body and he knows how to use it, folks.” 

Somewhere, Brandon Ingram nods. There are tears in his eyes.

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Oklahoma City’s season ended in the second round of this year’s NBA playoffs—lost in six to the Ricks. Many of the Thunder’s young pups were on their maiden voyage to the postseason and wound up not yet ready for prime time. In the end, Shai Gilgeous-Alexander was the lone guy for OKC with any efficient on-ball juice, his shotmaking woven with electric obscenities, but ultimately not enough. The Ricks guarded their asses off, P.J. Washington morphed into the second coming of Glen Rice, and Luka Doncic slammed doors come closing time.

At the trade deadline there had been clamors for the Thunder to add a piece, another big that could help rookie freak Chet Holmgren patrol the paint. Oklahoma City’s front office declined, deciding instead to bring in Gordon “Yawns” Hayward. How to describe how this move went… have you ever dove, eyes first, into cactus? Have you caked yourself in honey and laid with bears? Have you eaten tar? From the moment he arrived in OKC, Yawns gave the basket the cold shoulder. Oftentimes he looked too spooked to shoot. By the end of the playoffs, the rim may as well have been Medusa. 

All that to say, there are more moves to be made. This team is largely still in its infant stage. They need another big wing creator with some sauce, another flexible big that ups the optionality and doesn’t mess with the flow. They also just need to get a little older, a little stronger, a little meaner. These things come with time.   

A hair under two years ago, on June 23, 2022, the Thunder drafted Holmgren at 2 and Jalen Williams at 12. The team was coming off a 2021-22 campaign in which they ranked 29th on offense and won 24 games. Heading into this season, they were the second youngest team in the league and projected to win 45 games. They won 57, finished with the 1 seed in a stacked West, and made the playoffs for the first time since the Bubble. Thundercats are loose. Turnarounds aren’t usually so lickety-split. This is not normal. This is weird. Williams and Holmgren project as future stars who will affect the game on both ends. Gilgeous-Alexander is 25 and just made First Team All-NBA for the second year in a row. The team is eons ahead of schedule. House money, and so forth. A gravy year. 

But the gravy is gone. Expectations will be high for the foreseeable future. And they will be doubted and questioned and [smugly] “Why don’t we wait and see what happens in the playoffs” until they prove they can get it done on the biggest stage. I will miss this stakeless period but I’m in my mid-30s now and it’s time I become an unhinged fool again. Time to care if my team can win it all. Time, once more, for the losses to hurt.