We’re just three weeks away from the start of the 2024 NBA postseason, but the conference standings are far from settled. The West has a three-team race at the top and all kinds of traffic from seeds 6 to 11. The East, meanwhile, features a tight race for sixth and a duel for home-court advantage in the first round. With so much up in the air, we asked five writers to choose the juiciest potential first-round series, and here’s what they said:
Oklahoma City Thunder Vs. Los Angeles Lakers
Howard Beck: My most cherished, don’t-bother-me-with-data NBA playoffs axiom is that, when in doubt, experience beats youth. It doesn’t always hold true, of course. But that’s part of the fun in blindly subscribing to axioms. So you’re damn right I want to see the Los Angeles Lakers claw their way into a first-round clash with the Oklahoma City Thunder.
Average age of L.A.’s current starting five? It’s 29.8, including a certain 39-year-old with four rings and four MVP trophies. Average age of OKC’s starters? That would be 22.6, including a 25-year-old point guard contending for this year’s MVP award. LeBron James has logged 282 playoff games, which is more than the entire Thunder roster combined. Hell, Lakers forward Rui Hachimura has seen more playoff games (21) than the Thunder’s five starters combined (13 for Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, six for Lu Dort, zero for all others).
This might be LeBron’s last, best chance to make a deep playoff run (because every run is his last, best chance at this stage). This is SGA’s first, best chance to make a deep run—perhaps as deep as the Finals. Yes, the Thunder are that talented. But they’re also so green that it’s hard to see them taking out multiple rivals with more experience—whether it’s the Lakers, Clippers, Nuggets, Suns, Warriors, or some combination thereof.
I’m not convinced the Lakers are good enough to contend for another title. I’m not convinced the Thunder are ready for prime time yet. But this would be a phenomenal test of all our assumptions and cherished axioms.
Milwaukee Bucks Vs. Miami Heat
Rob Mahoney: If we’re just dreaming up a series, let’s dream one up that really has everything. A plot for playoff revenge, after the embarrassing (and franchise-altering) way the Bucks got knocked out of the first round last year. An opportunity for everyone involved to work out the angst around the Damian Lillard trade or, in the Heat’s case, the lack thereof. (Remember when Jimmy Butler casually asked the league office to investigate the Bucks for tampering?) A chance for Doc Rivers to exorcise his playoff demons in a coaching duel against a Certified Playoff Demon in Erik Spoelstra. A pairing that brings out the absolute best in Jimmy Butler and tests Giannis Antetokounmpo in ways no other matchup can. The possibility that Patrick Beverley might well get into a fight with the entirety of the HARDEST WORKING, BEST CONDITIONED, MOST PROFESSIONAL, UNSELFISH, TOUGHEST, MEANEST, NASTIEST TEAM IN THE NBA. And most important: a styles-make-fights contrast that always, always delivers. Milwaukee and Miami have their similarities (including their kindred-spirit superstars), but they’re different enough to really push each other to the limit. It’s just a juicy, interesting matchup that has given us great basketball, time and time again—and might well again soon.
New Orleans Pelicans Vs. Los Angeles Clippers
Seerat Sohi: As a relatively new Angeleno, I’m surrounded by people who are in a phase of preparatory schadenfreude (read: distracting themselves from the Lakers’ mediocrity) while they await a Clippers postseason collapse. While I don’t count myself among those people, I do like the idea of failing fast. And I like the idea of self-discovery by way of walking on hot coals, which is exactly what a first-round matchup against the Pelicans—who just overtook the stumbling Clippers for fourth in the West—would be.
Put it this way: I need the Clippers to pass a stress test before I can trust them again. If Ivica Zubac can survive a Zion Williamson–Jonas Valanciunas frontcourt, and if James Harden can withstand ball pressure from Herb Jones and Trey Murphy, then I’ll be ready to ride with this team again. And there’s a pathway there if the Clippers genuinely mean business, with Kawhi Leonard taking bumps from Williamson while attacking CJ McCollum and JV on the other end.
But given how both teams are playing right now, I’m inclined to favor the Pelicans, and if that’s how it’s gotta be, I don’t need this version of the Clippers (lazy and disconnected, 7-7 with a bottom-10 defense in March) gracing my television screen beyond April. I’d rather have a whole summer to think about whether Paul George looks better in a Sixers or Knicks jersey and instead watch Williamson reintroduce himself to sweet, sweet casuals as a budding superstar who creates devastating mismatch problems for opposing defenses.
Here’s a scenario (and this is really just for the benefit of my Lakers group chat) that would give Clippers and Celtics fans aneurysms: Both teams face early exits, and Boston, in a last-ditch effort to connect the Jays, signs Harden to the vet minimum this summer. I also like mess.
Denver Nuggets Vs. Dallas Mavericks
Tyler Parker: Their first bout this year was an in-season tourney game played so long ago that Doc Rivers was still working for ESPN. The Nugs won that one and the next, a Kyrie Irving–less waltz at home in mid-December. But the Ricks won the third time they played, nine days ago, a 107-105 delight that ended with one of the best buzzer-beaters in recent memory—a Kyrie offhand miracle teardrop so wild there’s a four-minute, 51-second YouTube video showing every angle imaginable. He let it go a step inside the 3-point line with a 7-footer in his face. Part floater, part skyhook, part runner, all lightning bolt. He has the technology and the steady hands to pull off a procedure like that. There’s the space-age handle, the florid shotmaking. A kind of smooth that does not make immediate sense. Obviously with the isos there’s a lot of flavor, triply so when Jupiter aligns with Mars. One of the most talented offensive players in the history of the league, and he’s nowhere near one of the two best players in this imaginary series. Let’s get to them.
Denver Point Beefcake Nikola Jokic has hell coming out of his hands at all hours but tends to get even more Promethean come playoff time. A higher frequency of Sombor shuffles, fadeaway moonrakers, pink on his arms. The biceps look like slapped pork. They smack of honor and biscuits. His chemistry with aerial artist Aaron Gordon has reached new extremes. They play in the clouds, speak with their eyes. And then there’s the Serb’s forever running buddy, Jamal Murray. Murray was not chosen to be an All-Star this year, but if past postseasons are any indication, he won’t let that stop him from playing like one. They run the most trustworthy pick-and-roll in the league, get buckets when they need to, rip out hearts.
Playoff Luka is outrageous. Mr. Doncic was my father. Please, call me God. God or Ra or Death, the Great Redeemer. He’s got sand to spare and a vandal streak. The smiles are sadistic. No player in the league accounts for more of their team’s points. If Doncic goes out, he goes out pissed, sniveling, spent, ready for a cigarette, ammo and options exhausted. His team has not yet reached Eden, but he’s still got more notches in his playoff belt than 99 percent of the guys in the league. He is held to a high standard, probably too high, because his ceiling’s so far up there. The numbers are so consistently gaudy we become numb. Dropped 73 on the Hawks, and it was treated like the end of the world? [Very Kendrick Perkins voice] Malika, a cow can’t fly, but it can eat pie. Atlanta’s defense was pitiful. Invisible. With liberty and buckets for all. Luka’s performance made me wish I had no eyes. This game was unholy. The devil is happy tonight.
A series that features Doncic and Jokic means a series in which both lead dogs also perform magic tricks. Illusions, Michael. Some back-and-forth sequences might end up looking like the MJ-Bird McD’s H-O-R-S-E commercials. Freakish, anomalistic assists. Passes thrown blind, over their heads and others’, and it all goes off without a hitch. The ball arrives on target and on time. They operate outside the norm, process the floor like seers. Hard-pressed to find better quarterback play. The ManningCast would be one long moan. Peyton would sweat right through his half zip. Doncic and Jokic have all the throws. There is also the small fact that they are in love with each other. Not in the way Doncic and Devin Booker are in love with each other—they should just make out already—but in a different, more back of the Trapper Keeper kind of way. Doncic writes “Luka Jokic” in his. Jokic scrawls “Nikola Doncic” in his. The o’s are hearts.
If the screws stay loose and there’s a good flow to the games, we stand to see some high-level, high-style, aesthetically diverse playmaking from both teams. If it becomes a rock fight and a battle of late-shot-clock iso haymakers, that’s no less compelling. The Ricks don’t have the bigs to stop Jokic—Rome and all its armies don’t have the bigs to stop Jokic—but Dereck Lively II and his rubber legs are still here, and they will be athletic and sprint hard. Plus, Dallas is more equipped to face him after the trade deadline. Daniel Gafford came over from the Wizards, brought with him springs and oomph.
But take a look at the banner, Michael Malone. The Nugs are still the champs, and it will take something Herculean to part them from that title. On the face of it, seems like the Ricks don’t quite have the horses to hang, but Doncic and Irving can do some heavy lifting. It’d be fun to see them try.
Minnesota Timberwolves Vs. Dallas Mavericks
Logan Murdock: The last time the Mavericks were in the postseason, Luka Doncic powered them into the Western Conference finals as a 4-seed. The run peaked during an epic takedown of the top-seeded Phoenix Suns, when Doncic sent Devin Booker and the last semblance of Peak Chris Paul home in the most embarrassing collapse in recent memory. Two years later, the Mavericks have added Kyrie Irving into the fold and upgraded the frontcourt around their two star guards.
Meanwhile, the Timberwolves, currently third in the West, are trying to validate their regular-season success with a deep playoff run. A look up and down their roster shows a group of players with postseason question marks. Karl-Anthony Towns, who injured his knee earlier this month and is expected to return early in the postseason, has displayed a propensity to disappear when the team needs him most. Rudy Gobert typically morphs into a turnstile this time of year. And Mike Conley and Jaden McDaniels have had great seasons, but their offensive limitations don’t help a team that tends to get bogged down late in close games. All of which forces Anthony Edwards to do superhuman things every night.
Dallas has its own shortcomings: Jason Kidd’s offense displays little imagination, and his lineup choices frequently draw the ire of Mavs fans. But the backcourt of Irving and Doncic can not only match Edwards’s output and killer instinct, but also demoralize a team that has yet to show the requisite killer instinct on the biggest stage. Did I just predict a hypothetical upset? Probably. Mavs in seven.