There’s no easy way to write a perfect ending, but Oklahoma City just delivered about as close as it gets. After years of coming close, resetting, retooling — and frankly, being written off — the Thunder are NBA champions.

It wasn’t always pretty. Game 7 got weird, got tense, and even got heartbreaking. But it was the kind of night that feels like it changes the course of a franchise. This wasn’t a feel-good fluke or a lucky run. It was the culmination of one of the most dominant seasons we’ve seen in years — and around OKC, they’re already talking like it’s just the beginning.

A 68‑Win Juggernaut Hiding in Plain Sight

Let’s rewind for a second, because this wasn’t just a team that got hot in the playoffs — the Thunder were tearing through the league for months before June ever arrived. Their 68 regular-season wins weren’t just the most in the NBA this year, they were the most in franchise history. And when you count the 16 they added in the playoffs, their 84 total wins land them in elite company — only three other teams in NBA history have ever done that.

And the wild part? This wasn’t a roster full of hardened 30-something veterans. Their average age was just 25.6 years — the second-youngest title-winning team ever, only behind the 1977 Trail Blazers. Nearly a quarter of their minutes were played by rookies or second-year guys.

Offensively, they could hang with anyone, ranking top five in most key metrics. But what really made them scary was the defense. They didn’t just lead the league — they left a gap. They allowed 2.5 fewer points per 100 possessions than the next best team, which might not sound like a lot until you realize that margin is the second biggest we’ve seen in almost three decades of advanced data.

The Biggest Night in Thunder History

Haliburton’s injury changed everything — and it happened fast. Less than eight minutes into the first quarter, with the Pacers already clicking and Tyrese having knocked down three early threes, he planted awkwardly on a drive and just crumpled. No contact, no foul — just immediate silence. You could feel the air leave the building, and not because the Thunder fans were worried. It was more like collective disbelief. Nobody wanted to see the game decided like that.

Haliburton had already been dealing with a calf strain, but this was different. He was helped off the court and didn’t return. Later, the worst was confirmed: torn right Achilles.

Still, to Indiana’s credit, they didn’t fold. Somehow, they scraped their way to a one-point lead at halftime, fueled by Bennedict Mathurin turning into a downhill menace and T.J. McConnell doing McConnell things — pesky defense, steady ball control, keeping the pace just fast enough to avoid collapse.

But it never really felt sustainable. You just knew the Thunder were going to make a run, and sure enough, the third quarter was the avalanche. OKC blitzed Indiana 34–20 in that frame, and it was what they’ve done all year — force turnovers, protect the rim, and make you pay for every mistake.

Chet Holmgren swatted five shots, setting a new Finals Game 7 record in the process. On the perimeter, Alex Caruso, Lu Dort, and Cason Wallace were swarming. Passing lanes disappeared. The Pacers coughed up 21 total turnovers — 14 of them after halftime — and the Thunder turned those into 32 points. That’s how you win when the shooting isn’t pretty.

And yeah, the shooting wasn’t pretty for Shai Gilgeous-Alexander. He went 8-for-27 from the field and just 2-for-12 from three. But the man still dropped 29 points, 12 assists, and 5 boards, because when it mattered most, he did what stars do — controlled the game.

The Triple‑Crown Season for Shai Gilgeous‑Alexander

Let’s start with the numbers — because they’re flat-out ridiculous:

• 32.7 points per game in the regular season, the highest scoring average ever by a player who went on to win the championship. That beats out peak Michael Jordan.

• He swept the big three: League MVP, Scoring Title, Finals MVP. That club has just four names on it now — Kareem, Shaq, MJ (four times), and now Shai Gilgeous-Alexander.

• His 212 points in this Finals series are the most anyone’s scored on this stage since LeBron in 2015.

But Shai’s greatness isn’t just in the stat sheet — it’s in how he controls the game. It’s in the pace he plays with, the unbothered cool, the way defenses know what’s coming but still can’t stop it. He’s not explosive in the way that grabs highlights. He’s surgical — slowing the game down, picking his spot, and getting to the line just enough to break your back.

And that’s part of the transformation. A couple years ago, fans joked about how many times Shai would get to the free throw line every night. It was almost a meme. Now, those trips to the line are game-altering. In Game 7, he took 12 free throws and hit 11 of them — and every one felt like a body blow to the Pacers’ chances.

What’s stood out just as much as the scoring or the awards is how consistently Shai has said and done the right things all year. In interviews, press conferences, even quick sideline chats — he always comes off like a guy who gets it. He praises teammates. He credits the system. He stays even-keeled, even when he’s dropping 40 on someone’s head.

And that maturity is what’s made him such a strong leader for this group. It doesn’t feel performative. He’s not trying to be the loudest voice in the room — he just sets the tone by being exactly who he is. That same cool, methodical presence he brings on the floor is what he brings to this team off it.

After the game, that maturity at the podium was on full display:

We prioritize winning. We don’t prioritize anything else in this game.

“Be Where Your Feet Are”: A Culture in Real Time

You can trace the Thunder’s identity right back to the early rebuild — those brutal years when they were winning 20-something games but preaching patience. Head coach Mark Daigneault was there through all of it, steering a team full of teenagers and role players who most fans couldn’t name. But even then, the tone was consistent: play smart, play hard, defend like hell.

He said it himself after Game 7:

Even in those early years, those were challenging years at different times. Certainly, they looked like challenging years on paper. How it felt every day was not a reflection of our record or where our standing was in the league. You could feel that something was starting to simmer. You could feel that some of the seeds we were planting were going to be flowering at some point.

Now here we are — the seeds bloomed.

This team isn’t just young and athletic. They defend with purpose. There’s real structure to it — what looks like chaos is actually incredibly well-drilled movement. Guys know where to be, when to help, and how to rotate. They averaged 10.2 steals per 100 possessions in the regular season, then upped that to 10.7 in the playoffs. That’s unheard of. They racked up 247 total steals in the postseason — 41 more than any other team in NBA history since the stat’s been tracked.

At the rim, they’re just as suffocating. They held opponents to 62.2% shooting in the restricted area, best in the league, while also forcing teams to take fewer shots there than almost anyone else. Chet Holmgren plays a huge part in that — his length and timing change everything. He’s not just blocking shots, he’s erasing them. The guy’s like a scarecrow with pogo sticks for legs.

This defense was the bedrock of everything OKC did all year. And it started long before the wins showed up in the standings.

The Kids and the Glue Guys

There’s something kind of ridiculous about how quickly this team has come together — and how complete they already look. You start with Jalen Williams, who’s gone from late lottery pick to flat-out star in two years. In the Finals, he averaged 23.6 points a night and exploded for a 40-point gem in Game 5 that arguably swung the whole series back in OKC’s favor. And he’s just 24.

Then there’s Chet Holmgren, all arms and angles and timing. At 23, he anchored the paint like a seasoned vet. He made life hell for anyone trying to challenge him at the rim. Most players would be headlining a franchise with that kind of performance. Here, it just feels like part of the machine.

Sam Presti didn’t just draft well, he built a roster where the pieces make sense. You’ve got Alex Caruso, who brought championship experience, hard-nosed defense, and that steadying presence this young group didn’t even know it needed. You’ve got Isaiah Hartenstein, who might not light up a box score but does every gritty thing that wins playoff games — screens, contests, rebounds, you name it.

Then you have Cason Wallace, a rookie with no fear. In Game 7, he logged 27 minutes off the bench and looked completely at home in the biggest moment of the season. That’s not normal. 

And beyond that, Presti’s still sitting on a mountain of draft capital — plus Serbian guard Nikola Topić waiting in the wings. This isn’t a team that cashed in all their chips to win now. They’re winning while still having more bullets in the chamber.

What's Next?

There’s a strange duality hanging over the end of these Finals — one team that looks like it’s just getting started, and another that might’ve seen its best shot disappear in a single, cruel moment.

Let’s start with the Pacers. This roster wasn’t a one-hit wonder. They were built to make another run at this thing — solid veteran pieces, a clear identity, and Tyrese Haliburton right in the middle of his prime. But now that he’s torn his Achilles, next season is essentially off the table. It’s not just about losing his playmaking — it’s about the ripple effect. Can Bennedict Mathurin become a go-to scorer? Can McConnell or someone else run the show for eight-plus months? Will this same group even still be together in two years when Haliburton is 100%? There are just a lot of unknowns now. What once felt like a long runway suddenly looks like a foggy, pothole-filled road.

And then there’s Oklahoma City. The vibe around the league is that this is the beginning of a dynasty. They’ve got a young core, everyone’s under contract, the books are clean, and Sam Presti still has a ridiculous stash of draft picks. If you’re betting on who’s going to run the league for the next five years, they’re the safest pick.

But here’s the thing: we said all the same stuff about the Celtics a year ago. They had the best roster in basketball, a dominant playoff run, and a young superstar in Jayson Tatum. Fast forward a year and they got bounced early, Tatum tore his Achilles, and now the whole future is up in the air.

That’s how fast this league moves. Dynasties don’t happen just because we say they might. They take good health, good timing, and more than a little luck. The Thunder are in a great spot — probably the best spot — but nothing is promised. They’ve got a shot to be something special. Now they just have to survive the grind that comes with staying on top.

All stats courtesy of NBA.com.