Chris Fisher, TV play-by-play announcer, Oklahoma City Thunder: Smooth from SGA. Fournier, no chance.
Michael Cage, TV analyst, Oklahoma City Thunder: LOOK AT ALL THE SPINS.
I.
On the front of the T-shirt you can see Reba, clothed in glory, her hair the color of red brick. There’s a microphone in her hand and she has the face of a woman delivering a punch line. There’s a black jacket, a mock turtleneck type number, some fringe. This is early McEntire, circa The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia/the album cover for It’s Your Call, before the WB and all the duets. Shai Gilgeous-Alexander is wearing the shirt. He’s standing in front of some water somewhere. There are boats behind him. Two Oklahoma-adjacent royals, fashion icons, demigods, etc. They each stare into their respective distances—their glittering futures out ahead of them like sunlit opals. Reba was born in McAlester, Oklahoma. The picture was posted in late May 2019. SGA was endearing himself to Oklahomans before the Paul George trade even went down. And I come bearing historic numbers and there will be gushing, but first, before we go any further, let’s dance.
Talk about a ray of light. I have commissioned 12 SGA murals in the last seven days. I’m planning on at least four tattoos. Him in the Reba shirt is obviously the first overall pick. Then another will probably just be this picture across my entire back.
One of them will be of him in these pants.
And honestly, I don’t know what the fourth one will be yet. I just know there will be a fourth one. That is my promise to you.
He puts on the ritz. His game is equal parts sophisticated and strange. There’s a minimalistic type of funk to it. Finespun attacks into the paint. Subtle little flourishes off the glass that border on riddles. Slow-rolling, laid-back, and refined—the same general spirit you’d find in, like, let’s say Matthew McConaughey and Sir Michael Caine combined into one person. It’s obvious to say but that kind of combination is tantalizing in a young player. Free and easy and together. In control, but doesn’t have to make a big deal about it.
In Boaz Yakin’s Remember the Titans, there is a scene during lunch at camp between Coach Boone and Louie Lastik (a revelatory Ethan Suplee). In it, Lastik (a revelatory Ethan Suplee) responds to Denzel’s question about whether or not he’s got a future in football with, “Oh, heck no. I just figure if I gotta be in school I might as well hit some people while I’m at it.” Denzel says to Lastik (a revelatory Ethan Suplee), “All right, I like that. A little self-aware man, I like that.” I’m fully aware that this doesn’t make actual, traditional sense, and I’m also certain I’m weird for it, but on more than one occasion lately I’ve thought about Denzel’s response to Lastik (a revelatory Ethan Suplee) while watching Gilgeous-Alexander play. He knows what he is, what he can do. So many young players get their noses out in front of their skis, try to do too much. Others get into a bad situation early, lose their confidence, start to become tentative on the floor. They pass up shots, overpass, barrel over somebody in the lane, generally junk up the rhythm. There’s something infinitely reasonable about Gilgeous-Alexander. His game’s already so well-rounded. He’s adaptable, plays and reacts with a confidence that expresses itself in spins and twirls and left-handed bank shots off the glass from 15 feet out with a guy flying at him. He’s pragmatic, he’s just creative about it. He simultaneously gets the most out of the ability he has while also rarely seeming out of his element. There’s an assuredness to him. He can play next to anyone. He also wears cool clothes, which is, I think, the third-nicest thing I can say about a person. The first two being, (a) they’re nice and (b) they seem like the type of person who, if you were at a party they were also at, and somebody else at that party was being an idiot, you could look at them and share a moment when without saying anything you’re both like, man, get a load of this guy. This guy’s the worst.
In the best show of 2019, Netflix’s I Think You Should Leave With Tim Robinson, there’s a sketch where Robinson shows up to a dinner with friends, only to discover that Caleb Went is there. Went is buddies with Dane, another friend of Robinson’s. We learn that Went is famous and Robinson loves him. He’s, quote, “Such a big fan of his Angels and Archways clothing. My belt right now? It’s a studded leather belt. It’s from Angels and Archways.” He is told by Gary Richardson to chill out. He says he is chill, “I’m just, like, such a huge fan of his music and his acting.” He doesn’t want to say or do anything stupid. Then he starts choking on something. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Went, so he acts like nothing’s going on. Gilgeous-Alexander is my Caleb Went.
Nick Gallo, broadcast reporter and digital editor, Oklahoma City Thunder: Shai, your first career triple-double, but 20 rebounds? What’s going on with that?
Shai Gilgeous-Alexander: Honestly, BK [Thunder assistant coach Brian Keefe] challenged me before the game—
Dennis Schröder appears in the background, wraps a Gatorade towel around his neck like a scarf. He looks great. Fatherhood agrees with him. He walks up to Gilgeous-Alexander.
Schröder: 20, 20, and 10?! That’s so tough, bro.
There’s a dap. They are excited to see each other, to be around one another. Huge smiles and laughs. Giggles, even. I don’t know about you, but I love to chill with the boys and kick back.
SGA: Just trying to catch Russ, to be honest. 20, 20, 20 next, you know what I’m saying?
The energy shared in this exchange is akin to the one that existed between Brian Fantana and Ron Burgundy at the pool party that happens at the start of Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. Fantana goes, “Are you having a good time?” But he asks it in a way where you can tell he already knows the answer to that question is yes. And Burgundy, with no pause between the end of Fantana’s question and his response, says, “I’m having a great time.” Schröder leaves. SGA turns his attention back to Gallo.
SGA: Coach just challenged me before the game to fill up the stat sheet. He knows what I’m capable of and challenges me every day. And I just wanted to step up to the challenge, personally.
Gallo: Shai, how about that third-quarter defense by you guys as a team?
SGA: Yeah, we just knew if we wanted to get a lead and come out of here with a win—
Schröder appears with two water bottles. He dumps them on SGA’s head, showers him, screams at him.
Schröder: 20-20 is so fucking tough, bro!
II.
A couple of nights ago, on the evening of Monday, January, 13, 2020, the Oklahoma City Thunder beat the Minnesota Timberwolves in Minneapolis. The final score was 117-104. Gilgeous-Alexander had his first career triple-double. He put together a fluid and clean 20-point, 20-rebound, 10-assist line on 8-of-12 shooting. He was 2-of-3 from the 3-point line and made both of his free throws. The plus-minus gods smile upon him. He ended the night plus-23, which, mathematically, is a lot. The guy wrapped his long arms around every inch of the game and he squeezed.
If you thought a Remember the Titans reference was as DUDE as I was going to get, I’m sorry. This metaphor will be far worse. Did you see the last Mission: Impossible? The one with The Witcher’s Henry Cavill and his disappearing beard? To me, that’s as good a popular entertainment as we’ve had come out in the past decade. The halo jump sequence is an all-timer, the cinematic equivalent of the best funnel cake you’ve ever had. You go order another when you’re done with the first. You eat the entire thing again. You don’t regret it. You tell your friends about it. You bring them with you to the place, watch them take a bite. They love it too. They’re so thankful you shared something this special with them. You both feel on top of the world. You are. Sometimes, your feelings are not lies.
In the film, Angela Bassett shows up in a couple of scenes and just starts snapping necks. She’s out on the tarmac—her pearls, her coat, and her, on parade—strutting, shutting down planes with a phone call. Tells Alec Baldwin, Tom Cruise, the world the way it will be. Cruise is trying to recover some plutonium that he lost. She wants her man, Cavill, to go with him. She tells Baldwin with all the disdain she can bring to her surface, “You use a scalpel.” And we see Cruise defiant, standing on a runway while his hair remains perfectly still. He’s been checked into the boards by her. Bassett goes on, straight headshots, and the camera goes to Cavill, “I prefer a hammer.” SGA’s the scalpel. Russell Westbrook’s the hammer.
There’s a strange beauty to SGA’s drives. He tilts himself and bends and contorts his body and stretches out his arms and finds a way to guide the ball through the net. He’s gentle with it. It’s all so smooth. Against the Wolves he had some preposterous finishes in the lane. Stuff you shake your head at. Balletic nonsense.
That’s sorcerous, the dark arts. Let’s get into the historic numbers. Let’s get to listing. Nothing better than a short list. With the 20-20-10, he became only the second guard in the past 30 years to have a 20-point, 20-rebound game. The other one was Westbrook. Gilgeous-Alexander is also now the youngest guy in the history of the league to record a 20-rebound triple-double. Passed Shaq for that one. And he’s only the fourth second-year player to ever have a 20-point, 20-rebound triple-double. The other three are Shaq, Charles Barkley, and Oscar Robertson. As for company, you could keep a lot worse.
The Thunder are a barrel of laughs right now. All the NBA podcasts you listen to have probably had some version of the same conversation sometime in the last couple weeks, all of which have started with something like, “And, speaking of, how about the Oklahoma City Thunder?” I don’t begrudge these conversations. I’ve listened to them all. The Thunder are fun. They play close, exciting games and have multiple players who can deliver in the clutch. Chris Paul’s basically been a guillotine in crunch time, traveling from city to city, barnstorming, cutting guys’ heads off. The team is jelling and the ball’s bouncing around with good energy.
Paul’s doing everything but hinder Gilgeous-Alexander’s game. They’ve gotten along like gangbusters, which is a word I’m always excited to use. With a minute left in the first half the other night, Gilgeous-Alexander hit your favorite trade target and mine, Robert Covington, with a stepback 3 that had Paul running to the other end of the court screaming. The mics over the court picked up what he was yelling: “I like it, Shai! I like it, Shai!”
Kevin McHale: You know, Shai, we saw you play last week. You played against your old team. You made a couple hoops and might have looked over at that bench a little bit and given them a little snake eye. What were you thinking at that time?
Shai Gilgeous-Alexander: Um, it just felt good. We were up down the stretch. It felt good as hell.
III.
On December 7, 2019, Gilgeous-Alexander posted a picture of himself celebrating a made 3 on his Instagram. The caption: “A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor … #3’sPlease [and then the emoji of the hand that holds up the three fingers like an OK sign].” For reference:
The comment section may go down as the very worst idea in the history of the world, but some guy on the internet with the Instagram handle vinmegatron saw the photo and replied with this: “#LongJohnSilvers.” That’s the entire thing. “#LongJohnSilvers.” This comment, I like it. I like it a lot. I think it’s a good, playful comment and I have to give it up for it. It’s the misdirection, you know? When I see that picture and that caption, my mind doesn’t immediately go there, to what has to be the most prolific fast seafood chain on the planet. Since you’re asking, personally, I think Long John Silver’s is delicious. Their two-chicken-plank combo is unbelievable and if you’re into the whole heartstopping thing you can get some crumbs on the side, dip the hushpuppies in there, add some crunch to the experience. I know some people call them crumblies. I don’t. I have self-respect and I’m not a fool.
Because I am able to read the future, I know people will come at me and say why would you get chicken at LJS’s? It’s a seafood joint, why not the shrimp or the cod or their wild Alaska pollock? To that stupid question I say if they have chicken on the menu at a seafood place as storied as LJS’s then it must be top of the line, hundred-proof, out-of-this-world, primo bird. They wouldn’t even bother with it otherwise as chicken are not from the sea. And I think it’s awesome they call them planks even though it’s basically just a gigantic chicken tender. They’re leaning into the gaiety of the nautical theme and I think that’s rad. Now, I feel I’ve made several amazing points here and I will not apologize for any of them, but I do recognize it’s probably time to get back to basketball. Which I will do in the next paragraph. That’s going to start momentarily. To close this one out, though, I just want to say I was paid handsomely by Mr. Silver, Long John Silver’s LLC, and their subsidiaries, all of whom have revealed themselves to be outstanding people and fantastic to work with. I love you guys. Long John Silver’s, providing bell-ringing service since 1969. Long John Silver’s—Seas the moment. Since Gilgeous-Alexander posted that picture, the Thunder are 15-7 and, forgive me, rolling.
Gilgeous-Alexander: I remember texting my mom after seeing that I got cut [from JV] that I was going to make them regret cutting me. I guess I kind of did.
IV.
SGA or SEGA or Student Government Association or Slick Gilly or The Idea of a Flower Blooming or Basketball Chalamet. Depending on the kit the Thunder are wearing, the Gilgeous-Alexander can be a beautiful rainbow of text on the back of the jersey. It’s not quite as severe an arc as was seen on the Clips jerseys last season—not really a mountain, but certainly a hill. On December 29, 2019, he went home to Toronto and put up a 32-piece on 57 percent shooting against the Raptors. He hit three of the five 3s he took. Made five out of six free throws. Seven rebounds, three steals, two assists, and a partridge in a pear tree. With about four and a half minutes left in the first half, he hit Patrick McCaw with a spin move that made Matt Devlin, Toronto’s great play-by-play man, moan out a “Look at this” that sounded like he was watching water turn to wine.
Gilgeous-Alexander’s stuff is so mature already. Sometimes it’s like the defender’s trying to guard him on a Slip ’N Slide. His bag of tricks is already stocked pretty full. The Euro-steps are outrageous. They’re so controlled. On the break he has defenders guessing wrong, and this sounds dumb but he’s so good at stopping. It’s like his shoes have extra stick. He can finish with either hand out to like 10 feet and he treats the glass with dignity. Play-by-play announcers start evoking images of gazelles. He won’t blow by many defenders, but he uses angles so well and his first step is so long it doesn’t matter. He just works his way around you—he has all the old man moves already—always on balance, chipping away at the defense until he makes his way into the lane, weapons hot, ready for action. Not the most athletic dude in the world, but earlier this year he dunked on Davis Bertans, who, based solely off his 3-point percentage this season, is apparently God now.
I’ve always been against anything that slithers. I don’t like snakes. What else slithers? Do lizards? They don’t really, right? They have legs, why would they? They just sort of walk, scamper about. I guess a snake is the only thing I know of that slithers. Or, it used to be, because Gilgeous-Alexander slithers. He slithers around picks on both ends of the floor. He slithers into the paint, between guys, under them, and then he’s to the rim. Stop and start. Stop and start. He keeps his dribble, keeps probing, keeps giving defenders more and more things to consider. For the season he’s putting up averages of 20 points, 5.8 boards, and 3.1 assists with 47/34/83 shooting splits. He’s hitting 43.4 percent on catch-and-shoot 3s. He’s been amenable to playing off the ball and learning from Paul and he’s taken the reins when it’s made sense to. He’s been great. Since a seven-point, three-shot dud against Chicago in mid-December, though, he’s been legitimately scorching. Averages of 22.9 points, 7 boards, 3.4 assists, and 1.5 steals on 52/33/88 shooting. You hear the word “slippery” a lot. You hear things are starting to slow down for him. You hear the Clippers really loved him, hated letting him go. You hear, Who knows how good he could be? I told you there would be gushing.
There’s a distinct kind of waggle to his game. It’s shiny, new-seeming, the point guard position’s version of a knuckleballer if that knuckleballer also had, I don’t know, wings. He doesn’t really operate like anybody I can remember, but my memory’s bad. Has the herk and jerk, but he’s a measured kind of chopped and screwed off the bounce. His hesitations are immaculate. There’s artistry in the pauses. He plays with intent and is starting to be able to take authorship over a game. He’s already a problem for defenders to deal with in isolation. To speak scientifically, the sauce is saucy now. It’s only going to increase in sauciness. He’s crafty with the ball but not in any sort of overstated way. Even when the Thunder are switch-hunting and he winds up with a big on him, there’s not a ton of dancing. He gets it and goes. Certainly, he needs to continue to improve some defensively, and his playmaking is not yet at the level you’d like it to be. He also needs to continue quickening his release. It’s already faster than it was last year—stepback 3s are realities for him now—and as he continues to shave time off it, more tricks get added to the bag. He needs to put on more weight, and get stronger, but even now he can take bumps and finish through contact. I’m not entirely sure this is what I want to say but it’s like his momentum never betrays him. He controls it. Not the other way around. He is in charge of his person. It’s a picnic to watch him play. It relaxes me.
Tyler Parker is a writer from Oklahoma.
