Six de moins
2026 NBA Western Conference Finals, Game 5
Ride - I know, I know. The Bone Crusher was back again on Tuesday night doing his best Michael Myers impression with the way he was butchering easy-to-see-no-brainer calls. Like a C-List actor making a cash-grab to play the lead in an awful new Halloween reboot trilogy, Tony Brothers has been assigned to officiate three San Antonio Spurs playoff games now and each of his performances was worse than the one before. Some of The Bone Crusher’s blown calls in Game 5 of the 2026 Western Conference Finals were so inexcusable, they were farcical. Remember the part where he literally missed three basic calls (a clear goal tend, a ball that obviously went out of bounds off Thunder All-Star Chet Holmgren’s foot, and a Mitch Johnson signal for a challenge—who he then teed up to compound the mistake) in a 30-second stretch in the third quarter? It was at that point that I could no longer tell if I was watching an NBA playoff game at Paycom Center or amateur night at Bricktown Comedy Club. The proverbial outrage at the officiating being said, the refereeing was not the reason the San Antonio Spurs lost to the Oklahoma City Thunder 127-114 on Tuesday night. Let me repeat. The refereeing was not the reason the San Antonio Spurs lost to the Oklahoma City Thunder on Tuesday night. We lost Game 5 because (with the exception of three players) we were not physically or mentally ready to anticipate and match OKC’s desperation in order to give ourselves a chance (on the road in a hostile environment) for a repeat of our Game 4 results. Having three players appropriately locked in might have been sufficient to allow us to keep it close enough to give ourselves a chance to steal it in the end but only if one of those three locked in players was our All-NBA first team alien and, as we all know, not only was Victor Wembanyama not one of those players, instead he had his most passive and dumbfoundedly ineffective (complete) game of the entire playoffs.
Yep, Wemby (individually) and the San Antonio Spurs (collectively) picked a bad time to have our most nonchalant, sloppy, undisciplined, “young and inexperienced” game of the 2026 postseason. Ughhhhhhhhh. That was so incredibly disappointing. The game was right there for the taking after we got out to a 16-8 lead to begin the first quarter. League MVP Shai Gilgeous-Alexander was in his head second-guessing his answers to the test and the defending champs looked like they were on the verge of cracking the same way Minnesota did when we put it on the Wolves in their building in Game 6 of the last series. One of the players who came ready to play and helped get us out to that early lead was Julian Champagne. He drained three triples in the opening frame and finished the game with 22 points, eight rebounds, three steals, and one dime. The second player who was locked in to meet the challenge of WCF Game 5 on the road because “he was built for this” was iconoclast Stephon Castle. Steph continued where he left off in relentlessly hounding SGA on defense while also offering up 24 points (on efficient shooting), six assists, five rebounds, and three steals in his “steady as she goes” performance. Last but certainly not least of our “up for the challenge” trio was your favorite basketball player’s favorite teammate, sixth man of the year Keldon Johnson. After suffering through a mostly subpar inaugural playoff campaign to this point, KJ brought the type of energy off the bench on Tuesday that earned him the aforementioned award, hustling and bullying his way to 15 points, four rebounds, and two assists. While Keldon’s stat line doesn’t scream off the page, he provided the right type of energy and enough punch off the bench to (after squandering the early opportunity to put the champs behind the eight ball) give us a puncher’s chance get the game into a clutch time situation where from that point, victory could’ve been there for the taking. In the end, it wasn’t meant to be and we have nobody to blame but ourselves for allowing our opponent to be the more connected and desperate team. And to have the best player on the floor. Somehow in Game 5 after squandering our early lead, chess aficionado and ascending greatest basketball player in the world Victor Wembanyama broke concentration just long enough to allow the two-time NBA MVP Shai Gilgeous-Alexander to put us in check.
As a result, we’re definitely going to find out what we’re made of in Game 6. Tonight will be another playoff first for Victor Wembanyama in his singular quest for all of the greatness right now all at once. It will also be another playoff first for Stephon Castle, Dylan Harper, Devin Vassell, Keldon Johnson, Julian Champagnie and Carter Bryant. Game 6 will be all of these players first time facing elimination from the NBA playoffs. This group (plus our three rotation players who have prior playoff experience—De’Aaron Fox + former champions Luke Kornet & Harrison Barnes) has proven over and over again that we treat every challenge as an opportunity to go out and seize. No one said it was supposed to be easy. The defending champions have us up against the ropes at the moment but there are only three teams left that can win the 2025-26 Larry O’Brien and we’re one of them so as long as we have another game to play, we have an opportunity to win that game and then another and then another and then another and then another and then another and then we can rest. Victor, the chess aficionado, can envision this opportunity because he believes this latest tango with adversity is simply an obstacle that must be removed because it is standing in between him and a prize he believes is his to have now. The reason Wemby has had an emphatic answer every time he has faced adversity in the 2026 NBA playoffs is because building the greatest legacy in NBA history requires a strong foundation and there’s no stronger foundation than winning the Larry O’Brien trophy on your very first attempt. Tonight will be no different. An opponent has put basketball’s Bobby Fischer in check for the first time. For every move there’s a counter move and as Fischer himself said, “Chess is war over the board. The object is to crush the opponent’s mind.” Vic will be ready for Game 6 and god bless the MVP’s soul if he is not. For the rest of our special group, I have full confidence they will earn the moniker again tonight and keep this magical journey going. We have more dynamic talent on our roster than OKC and as a result we have match up advantages to exploit on both sides of the ball when we bring the proper focus and attention to detail. We’ve got the blueprint for vanquishing champions. We always have. We’ve used that blueprint to slay dragons like the Shaq-Kobe Los Angeles Lakers in ‘03, the Iron Five Detroit Pistons in ‘05 and the LeBron-Wade-Bosh Miami “Heatles” in ‘14. If the #BlackAndSilver go out and pound the rock tonight and then go pound the rock again on Saturday, we can slay this dragon too. That’s the blueprint. We’ve had it so long it’s practically a load-bearing wall in our practice facility, Victory Capital Performance Center. Let the legend one day be told of how the greatest player to ever walk this earth joined the greatest franchise in all the land and together they vanquished a champion before hoisting their sixth trophy on his very first try in two six.
POUND THE ROCK
WHEN NOTHING SEEMS TO HELP, I GO AND LOOK AT A STONECUTTER HAMMERING AWAY AT HIS ROCK PERHAPS A HUNDRED TIMES WITHOUT AS MUCH AS A CRACK SHOWING IN IT. YET AT THE HUNDRED AND FIRST BLOW IT WILL SPLIT IN TWO, AND I KNOW IT WAS NOT THAT BLOW THAT DID IT, BUT ALL THAT HAD GONE BEFORE. — JACOB RIIS
Featured Image Source: r/NBASpurs on Reddit
Headline Image Source: Lost Otros Murals
Quatre de moins
2026 NBA Western Conference Finals, Game 2
The Road Goes On Forever - The Bone Crusher stood at the center of the ring looking out over his conquest utterly chuffed with what he had accomplished. He had done a number on the number one contender and as a result, he knew there would be another bout and now that it was officially on the card, he anticipated it was going to do record-breaking numbers. ”The Promoter is going to be so pleased with me when we meet for lunch tomorrow at Ramsay’s Kitchen” he thought as he wiped the sweat from his brow and watched the Oklahoma City crowd jovially disperse from the arena and into the buzz of a celebrating city. “I wonder if I can expect silver to be on top of my agreed upon compensation package for ensuring the desired result? The promoter best remember I told him BC been tryin to diversify my portfolio.” Shaking his head with visions of how to spend his pay off dancing in his head, he nodded to Josh Tiven and Karl Lane in his corner and then vacated the ring. He strolled intently back towards the locker room ready to get changed and get back to the hotel so he could start making calls. He had campaign donors to woo for his Norfolk, VA mayoral bid, after all.
Back at the hotel later that night, The Bone Crusher was just sitting down in a booth in the lobby bar to order a double crown and coke and start calling potential donors when he noticed his phone was buzzing. He looked at the caller ID only to discover it was The Promoter. He wondered suspiciously, “The hell he want that can’t wait until we meet tomorrow?” He let it go to voicemail because first things first, he needed to order his drink and then waited for the beverage to arrive to see if The Promoter was going to leave a message. Annoyed when, drink in hand, no text or voice message popped up, he begrudgingly dialed The Promoter back.
The Promoter: Hello, this is Adam.
The Bone Crusher: Yeah, it’s Tony, I’m just calling you back.
The Promoter: Oh yeah, I just called to let you know I moved our Ramsay’s reservation to one. I have a deal to close tomorrow morning on that third-rate product we’re creating for those suckers in Europe.
The Bone Crusher: Okay, whatever. I got nothing on my schedule tomorrow afternoon other than counting my money.
The Promoter: Don’t worry, I got your message about diversifying your portfolio. You will be well compensated. See you at one.
The Bone Crusher: That all you got to say to me?
The Promoter: Yeah. What am I forgetting?
The Bone Crusher: How about “Good job, well done, thank you for the ratings bonanza you just ensured for me?”
The Promoter: You did the job that I paid you to do and last time I checked, you asked to be paid in currency not in thank you’s. Go hire a prostitute with the money I’m paying you if you want your ego stoked.
The Bone Crusher: Screw you, Adam.
The Promoter: You too, Tony. [Click]
The Bone Crushed took a sip of his cocktail and looked at his watch. “Ugh” he muttered. Frustrated that he hadn’t even called one donor yet and it was already 2am in Norfolk, he thought, “Screw it, I’ll make these calls tomorrow. Even the club owners and bookies back home are gonna be annoyed if I try to call them this late there.” He looked up at the TV above the bar where they were showing a replay from the contest earlier. The part where he bobbed and weaved while Isaiah Hartenstein pulling Stephon Castle’s hair went uncalled and as a result, the home crowd got to cheer a momentum-shifting triple that never should have been allowed. He chuckled to himself, “If I wasn’t on the take, I would’ve thrown his ass out for that one. Probably should be suspended too but The Promoter ain’t never gonna allow for that.” Noticing he was dry he signaled to get the attention of the bartender.
The Bartender: Another double?
The Bone Cruncher: Yeah. And what time does the kitchen close?
The Bartender: You got it. The kitchen closes in 20 minutes.
The Bone Cruncher: Let me get the ribeye rare, mashed potatoes. And can I substitute cheese grits instead of the side salad?
The Bartender: No problem. Say, aren’t you Tony Brothers? Great job tonight letting us maul that alien the entire game. We weren’t going to be able to stop him without your help. Your meal is on the house.
The Bone Crusher: I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why are you all up in my business, anyway? I don’t know you from Adam. Damn straight that food better be free.
The Bartender: My apologies, sir. Here’s your drink. I’ll leave you to it.
Turning back to his phone, The Bone Crusher tried to put the obnoxious bartender out of mind but before he could he thought, “That fool is right about one thing. I could’ve called 86 fouls on them tonight, 37 on Hartenstein alone. This city that stole the Sonics is lucky they got one last year. They have no chance in a straight up game of basketball against them young San Antonio kids.” Gulping down a healthy first sip on the second double, he opened his phone’s browser to the page for the blood red Mercedes-Maybach S680 he’d been eyeing. He thought, “Maybe it’s time to pull the trigger after I stop by the bank tomorrow?” As he was clicking to refresh the page to see if the price might’ve changed, his phone started buzzing again. “What now?” he grumbled. He looked at the caller ID but the numbs was listed as “Unknown.” He hesitated while deciding whether or not to answer but then his curiosity got the better of him. After all, “It could be a high-dollar donor” he thought.
The Bone Crusher: Who this is?
Unknown: Hey Tony, it’s Popo. I know what you did.
The Bone Crusher: Popo? How’d you get this number? Uh, uh…never mind that, how the hell are you? It’s been too long. I was really sad to hear about your ugh medical thing. We were all keeping you in our thoughts and prayers.
Unknown: I don’t remember receiving your sympathy card.
The Bone Crusher: Yeah, well…uh, why are you calling?
Unknown: I already told you. I called to tell you I know what you did.
The Bone Crusher: Popo? How’d you get this number? Uh, uh…never mind that, how the hell are you? It’s been too long. I was really sad to hear about your uh medical thing. We were all keeping you in our thoughts and prayers.
Unknown: I don’t remember receiving your sympathy card.
The Bone Crusher: Yeah, well…uh, why are you calling?
Unknown: I already told you. I called to tell you I know what you did.
The Bone Crusher: Hey, uh, look Popo, first, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Second, if you think you know something about something, what are you talking to me for? Don’t shoot the errand boy. If you’ve got a score to settle, take it up with The Promoter. The only thing that matters to Adam is maximizing ratings. You know that.
Unknown: From the intel I’m receiving, you’re being compensated quite handsomely for an errand boy. Also, you can rest assured that I also have also already delivered a message to The Promoter.
The Bone Crusher: Okay, so you know what I did. So what? You want to threaten me now? You going to send your CIA operatives to start harassing me back home?
Unknown: Possibly. My associates may or may not be interested in some of your recent and impending bank transactions as well as investigating some possible campaign finance ethics allegations that have surfaced recently in Norfolk. But that’s neither here nor there.
The Bone Crusher: So what, in God’s name, do you want?
Unknown: Just to give you the same friendly message I already gave to Adam.
The Bone Crusher: Which is what exactly?
Unknown: That it’s not going to work. Make sure to tune in on Friday and Sunday because it’s going to be a show. We’re used to playing eight on five and despite all of that, I’m going to personally ensure that we kick so much ass this weekend, Tuesday’s ratings will tank because no one tunes in for a foregone conclusion. You made your bed. I’m going to enjoy making you lie in it. [Click]
* * *
Well, I guess Tony Brothers just can’t help but make himself a part of the story. We all have eyes. We all can see that what the Oklahoma City Thunder are being allowed to get away with in order to provide the NBA with any chance of the ratings bonanza they are hoping to generate from an extended Western Conference Finals coming to fruition. On Wednesday night, the defending champs literally UFC’d their way to evening the best-of-seven Western Conference Finals at one game apiece at the Paycom Center in Oklahoma City. The Thunder (with the assistance of Tony Brothers, Josh Tiven, and Karl Lane turning a blind eye to actual hair pulling among other dirty tricks that completely make a mockery of the spirit of the competition and are the byproduct of the opponent’s recognition that they are simply not talented enough to compete with us in playing the game of skill we call basketball) defeated the San Antonio Spurs 122-113 in Game 2. I could go on and on about the Thunder’s dirty tactics, the refereeing, the league office, being forced to play eight on five but it’s all par for the course at this point. We knew that winning a championship wasn’t going to be easy and it’s going to require us to be able to continue to impose our will against all of the forces which are converging to not allow us to be the biggest outlier in NBA history by stamping our greatness with a title this young and this fast. We embrace the challenge and we will be ready to face it head on back home in San Antonio tonight.
Despite another nine turnovers, the player of the game on Wednesday night was Stephon Castle. Considering De’Aaron Fox sat his second consecutive game with a high ankle sprain and after losing Dylan Harper to a leg injury with 4:50 remaining in the third quarter, our second-year warrior gave a herculean effort carrying most of the ball handling and playmaking load while demonstrating once again that he is one of the fiercest competitors in the league. I simply cannot get enough of watching Steph Castle compete on a basketball court. On the night, Steph racked up an impressive 25 points, eight assists, five rebounds and a steal. His 25-5-5 stat line made him the youngest player to reach that milestone in the conference finals in NBA history. It is already clear only two games into this series that if we take care of the basketball and limit OKC’s ability to get easy transition buckets from live ball turnovers, they are not talented enough or a good enough team to match our level of execution and hang in this series. Tonight we are returning to the friendly confines of the Frost Bank Center in lovely San Antonio, TX for the first time in ten days. Hopefully we get a healthy De’Aaron and a healthy Dylan to help Steph with the ball handling duties but (in spite of a perfect storm of the current of forces we are swimming upstream agains) the comfort of finally playing back home in front of the most-electric fans in the NBA in and of itself will play a role in helping us limit turnovers and prevent us from contributing to the only way OKC can keep this series close, through generating enough fast break opportunities. One thing I know is the #BlackAndSilver led by our fearless 21-year-old floor general will be ready to meet the challenge head on tonight. I fully expect us to come out scorching and make this iconoclastic dunk a foreshadowing of how the defending champs, regardless of all the help they’re getting from the refs and the league, better prepare to sleep now in the fire.
Six de faits
2026 NBA Western Conference Semifinals, Game 3
Choosin’ Texas - Fighting out of the blue corner, representing Minneapolis, MN by way of Cambridge, OH with a record of 26-25, known for his slippery, rule-bending maneuvers, it’s the one they call Mr. Squeaky Wheel aka The “Woe Is Me” Machine aka Captain Wet Blanket aka The Bellyacher In Chief, it’s the challenger, The Sniveler…CHRIS FINCH. (Booooooo!!!!!) Fighting out of the red corner, born, raised, and hailing from Norfolk, VA with a record of 32-0 including 19 knockouts, known for the meanest “I wish you would” face in the history of the sport, it’s the one you run away from if he opens the door when you arrive to pick up his daughter, he’s the future mayor of his hometown and maybe yours too, he’s the undefeated, undisputed Heavyweight Champion of the World, The Bone Crusher…TONY BROTHERS (Ohhhhhh!!!!)
On Friday, all of The Sniveler’s whining and complaining about the refereeing in his Minnesota Timberwolves second round playoff matchup against the San Antonio Spurs finally hit a tipping point when 30-year veteran official Tony Brothers got so fed up with Chris Finch’s antics that he blacked out and bucked up to the six-year-and-been-running-his-mouth-at-the-refs-since-day-one gasbag of an NBA coach. With 5:09 remaining in the fourth quarter of a tightly contested game, The Bellyacher in Chief stomped up and down on the court like a petulant child because it took Tony Brothers three seconds longer to grant him a timeout than he wanted. His expression of his frustration would have been understandable if this were happening in the final minute of a clutch playoff game but it was a complete overreaction with more than five minutes left to play. His problem wasn’t that those three seconds were crucial, his problem was that he had absolutely no answer on either side of the court for Victor Wembanyama that night.
Venting your frustration that a 22-year-old is eating your lunch exclusively at the referees as if it’s somehow their responsibility to help you do the thing you and your team are incapable of doing on your own (slowing down the ascending greatest player in the world) was in and of itself a mistake but venting it one too many times at this particular referee, Norfolk’s finest…Tony Brothers, that was a death wish. Luckily for Captain Wet Blanket, when The Bone Crusher started charging at him, Timberwolves reserve guard Bones Hyland and assistant coach Pablo Prigioni stepped in the hold Brothers back before he reached Finch. Their quick reaction was a wise ass-saving decision. (You see what I did just there, right?) Otherwise, Mr. Squeaky Wheel was about to be flat on his back, knocked out cold. Perhaps this will serve as a warning, one Chris Finch would be wise to adhere to moving forward; there are only three constants in this world: 1) Death 2) Taxes 3) Don’t mess with Tony Brothers.
Thanks to the quick reaction heroics of Hyland and Prigioni, play resumed with Finch on the sideline rather then on a stretcher but ultimately, there was no amount of home-cooked whistles the referees could have provided to Minnesota to offset Wemby’s sheer determination to win on this particular Friday. On this particular Friday, Victor Wembanyama composed a masterpiece and then performed it to the tune of 39 points (13-18 from the field, 3-5 from deep, 10-12 from the line), 15 rebounds, five blocks, one assist and a steal in leading the San Antonio Spurs to a 115-108 Game 3 victory and 2-1 series lead on the road at the Target Center in Minneapolis in our Western Conference semifinal matchup with the Minnesota Timberwolves. Considering that the team that wins Game 3 in a best-of-seven NBA playoff series that is tied 1-1 goes on to win the series 74 percent of the time, Wemby couldn’t have picked a better time to have a signature winning playoff performance. Home court advantage for the #BlackAndSilver over the Wolves reclaimed. Balance and harmony in the Milky Way’s galactic order restored. (More on this later.)
Vic was stellar the entire night but especially as the tension ratcheted up down the stretch of the hard-fought back and forth contest scoring 16 points in the fourth quarter on the biggest stage (to-date) of his young NBA career. While assassin-like in some of his clutch-time heroics including a pair of dagger threes and a peach of a tasty assist for a Dylan Harper layup out of the triple-team, the player of the game’s play of the game was undoubtedly when he backed down Rudy Gobert (on the next possession after the Harper assist) juked and spun into such a beautiful fade-away jumper that was like a dream shaken out of the Houston-based Hakeem Olajuwon magic big man factory. On this particular Friday, Victor Wembanyama was simply breathtaking. He’s been telling us all season long that when it finally came time for him to get to play in the high-leverage stakes of the NBA Playoffs, he was going to have something to say. Consider his statement soundly delivered. During a postgame interview with the NBA on Prime crew, he issued a couple more for good measure: “I’m built for this” and “we don’t got the experience but we don’t care.”
The American public spent much of Friday pouring through documents looking for confirmation that aliens exist. While the evidence in the documents may have been inconclusive, confirmation came later that night anyway in downtown Minneapolis, MN. Not only do aliens exist, they will crush your soul if you make the mistake of rooting for their opposition on the basketball court. Game 3 was an epic battle of wills between two tough-minded, gritty, physical basketball clubs and their edifying cities + passionate fanbases. It was hard-fought to the bitter end. The difference, when it was all said and done, was that San Antonio had The Alien on our team and Minnesota didn’t. For seven percent of the American public, what Wemby did on a basketball court in the Twin Cities on Friday night is shame because it took their previously extremely rare experience of believing you witnessed an alien life form (and their sense of belonging to that niche community) and made it a universal experience (and global community for everyone). The Alien is here on Earth conducting his affairs in plain sight for all to see. Unfortunately for Timberwolves fans, he’s currently in Minneapolis and is planning another invasion of the Target Center for this evening. It’s clear by now that in the 2026 NBA playoffs, Victor Wembanyama is operating from a higher plain of existence and to pay homage to the last bonafide generational prospect to enter the league prior to Wemby, “we are all witnesses.”
(Note to the NBA punditry on this NBA Draft Lottery Sunday: if you’re using “generational prospect” to describe every top prospect to enter the draft every single year, I don’t think you comprehend what the word “generational” means. Kevin Durant, Kyrie Irving, Anthony Davis, Luka Dončić, Zion Williamson, Cooper Flag, and AJ Dybantsa, to name a few who have been given this label, are not generational prospects. LeBron James was the generational prospect for the last generation. Victory Wembanyam was the generational prospect for this generation. Full stop.)
While nothing has changed with the danger the Minnesota Timberwolves pose as a wounded animal, the San Antonio Spurs now have them corned and this evening presents an amazing opportunity to get them back in their cage. We can expect them to come out scratching and clawing like it’s an elimination game because for all intents and purposes, it probably is. While Minnesota has the toughness and experience to climb out of a 1-3 playoff hole in a vacuum, when factoring in just now banged up their roster currently is, it seems like a pretty tall order. We should expect that Anthony Edwards and company are going to fight for their playoff lives tonight and consequently, it will require a sharper more determined effort by the Spurs tonight than it did on Friday for us to beat them. We should also expect The Sniveler Chris Finch to parlay narrowly escaping a Tony Brothers beat down in Game 3 (and the pity party that followed) into squeezing a few extra calls for the home team out of tonight’s officiating crew. In other words, we should expect to have to overcome an avalanche of adversity to remain undefeated on the road in the 2026 playoffs. That being said, I’m extremely confident that we can grab another victory at the Target Center tonight if we play our brand of San Antonio Spurs basketball. Given Minnesota’s terrible injury luck and the current health of their roster, it’s an objective fact that San Antonio currently has the better team in this series. Objectively speaking, Minnesota was extremely lucky to steal game one. Had they not, this thing would already be over. If we play like we’re capable of playing tonight, we won’t allow them to be in position to get lucky again. We also know, however, if the Wolves are somehow able keep the game close so that its outcome is still in the balance down the stretch of the fourth quarter, we have a superior being on our roster who we know we can trust was built for thriving in that type of situation. Victor Wembanyama has been proving it since first contact.
Featured Image Source: Rolling Stone
Headline Image Source: talkSPORT