Rained out from deep: The Thunder left to ponder 'what if'

In the end, it was a deluge of threes, a historic downpour of preposterously difficult shots, which drowned the Thunder.

The NBA Finals begin today, and for the fourth year in a row, Oklahoma City will not be part of the dance. Their absence is a reality that seemed set in stone two weeks ago. But one week ago it was almost impossible to imagine.

It’s hard to argue that the better team won the Western Conference Finals, and equally as difficult to say that they lost. Nothing separated Oklahoma City and Golden State. The Thunder outscored the Warriors for the series, but trailed 4-3 in the only stat that counted.

They pummelled Golden State, and on several occasions – after Game 4 and in the second quarters of Games 6 and 7 – appeared to have broken them. But the thin frame of Stephen Curry is shockingly resilient, and a star turn from his running mate gave him the chance to be resilient on his home floor in a winner-takes-all game in which, perhaps inevitably, Curry took all.

The Western Conference Finals was a series without an overtime period or a game-winning shot. But it was a series where every quarter felt like an extended overtime, and, at times, every shot felt like it would win or lose the game, such was its gravity. In the list of all-time great series of recent vintage, ‘Warriors-Thunder 2016’ will find its place alongside, and for many, above, Heat-Spurs 2013, Spurs-Thunder 2014 and Lakers-Celtics 2010.

When you witness a spectacle so breathtaking and immersive, thoughts immediately trail to a search for answers: what does it all mean? Was this series a referendum on finesse versus force? Did the late-game failings of Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook in Game 6 highlight some deeper truth? Was the gradual shift of the series towards small-ball indicative of a league where bigs, no matter how talented they are (good afternoon, Enes Kanter), will continue to get played off the floor?

The way the league has trended over the past few years, the way Golden State closed Game 6, and the way they tormented OKC in the second half of Game 7, suggests that the answer to these questions might be ‘yes’. But at the same time, all these questions just point to one larger one: wouldn’t everything we think we learned from this series go to hell if Klay Thompson didn’t lose his freaking mind one night in the Sooner State?

It’s easy to be seduced by the power of narrative in sport. But it has to be remembered that narratives aren’t pre-written – we do the writing, and we do it after the fact.

Golden State were dead and buried in the first half of Game 6. It was over. They were hesitant and rattled. OKC’s length was in their heads and they couldn’t finish anything at the rim. Curry was getting caught in the forest of Durant around the hoop, and Andre Iguodala was so petrified that he wasn’t even going to set foot in such a land.

But Thompson got hot, and in a game where they should have been down 20, they went into half-time down five because of his crazed shooting. When the Warriors came out in the second half, perhaps emboldened by the life they shouldn’t have had, they reverted to form. Their reversion caused OKC’s own in the final five minutes, and the storylines of flow versus stagnation that we forecast before the series, which the Thunder had so admirably shot down until that point, finally came to fruition.

One of basketball’s most heartbreaking moments came in the immediate aftermath of the 2013 Heat-Spurs Finals. Manu Ginobili and Tim Duncan took to the press conference room after one another, and while the former bemoaned Game 6, the latter was unable to get over Game 7. It was a stark portrait of a devastation as crippling as it was diverse.

Oklahoma City will know a similar pain. Thirteen-point leads evaporated in Games 6 and 7, games that they easily could have won, and in the case of Game 6, absolutely should have. And let’s not forget Game 5, where the Thunder were a wide open Durant three from having a one-possession game with 35 seconds to play.

For large stretches, and perhaps, really, even for the majority, of Games 5, 6 and 7, the Thunder outplayed the champions. It seems uncanny, and almost unfair, that they lost two of those games, let alone all three. But the basketball gods are cruel, and Stephen Curry and Klay Thompson are even crueller.

The Thunder will be back. Barring something unforeseen, Durant will return. Politically and competitively, and more to the point, financially, it’s too logical for him not to return on a one-plus-one deal to Oklahoma City next season. All their stars are 27 or younger. Steven Adams has been a revelation, Serge Ibaka rose to the occasion, Dion Waiters and Kanter laid waste to the doubters, and Andre Roberson had an impact that was as decisive as it was unforeseeable. Russell Westbrook is still there, eating planets.

Oklahoma City will learn from this series, perhaps more than any other of their (growing) number of crushing playoff defeats. Durant and Westbrook will re-watch the end of Game 6 and (hopefully) realise that lengthy isolation plays in the fourth quarter kill the offence more than they kill the clock.

Roberson will learn to “shoot the effing ball”, as Durant advised him to in Game 7. Adams and Ibaka have the skill levels to be more heavily utilised on offence. And maybe, just maybe, this summer the Thunder will finally unearth the two-way wing they’ve craved ever since the James Harden trade, and make the mega-death Durant-at-the-four line-up cosmically deadly, instead of just being able to crush all of mankind.

The Thunder should take heart from the fact that the last team that suffered a defeat as devastating as they just did – those 2013 Spurs – channelled their anguish to win the title the following year (beating OKC en route). But the Thunder also know that expectation and cosmic fairness are fickle concepts, always ready to be undermined by a twist of a knee, a pull of a hamstring, or Klay Thompson losing consciousness on a Saturday night.

For the time being, they’ll have to content themselves with watching the Finals, a series with promise, but much work to do if it wants to live up to what preceded it. Watching it all unfold will be as joyous for us as it will be masochistic for Oklahoma City.