2025-11-17 09:00
As I look back on the 2022-23 NBA season, I can't help but marvel at how certain expectations were completely upended while others played out exactly as predicted. Having followed the league religiously for over fifteen years, I've developed a sixth sense for which narratives will hold water and which will crumble, but this season managed to surprise even a seasoned observer like myself. The biggest shocker for me personally was watching the Sacramento Kings transform from perennial lottery team to legitimate Pacific Division champions, ending their 16-year playoff drought in spectacular fashion. When Domantas Sabonis arrived in Sacramento, I'll admit I was skeptical about how he'd fit alongside De'Aaron Fox, but their chemistry became the engine of the league's most explosive offense. Their 48-34 record might not scream dominance, but for a franchise that hadn't cracked 40 wins since 2006, it represented a monumental shift.
What fascinates me about Sacramento's success is how it underscores the importance of defensive connectivity, something that was conspicuously absent from several supposed contenders. The quote from Paras about "when setting a pick, the defender immediately sticks" perfectly captures what separated teams like the Kings from disappointments like the Dallas Mavericks. I had Dallas pegged as a Western Conference finalist after they acquired Kyrie Irving, but their defensive disintegration was painful to watch. Luka Dončić put up historic numbers—averaging 32.4 points, 8.6 rebounds, and 8.0 assists—but basketball isn't played on spreadsheets. The Mavericks' defensive rating plummeted from 109.1 before the trade to 116.7 afterward, and watching them miss the playoffs entirely after being up 3-0 in the Western Conference Finals just a year prior was genuinely shocking.
Meanwhile, out East, the Milwaukee Bucks' early exit still baffles me. A team that won 58 games during the regular season, featuring Giannis Antetokounmpo coming off perhaps his most efficient campaign, shouldn't collapse in the first round. I've never been convinced by Mike Budenholzer's playoff adjustments, but losing to an eighth-seeded Miami Heat team that barely scraped through the play-in tournament? That was downright embarrassing. Jimmy Butler's historic 56-point performance in Game 4 wasn't just great offense—it exposed fundamental flaws in Milwaukee's defensive scheme that should have been addressed months earlier. The Bucks had the personnel to switch more effectively, but their stubborn adherence to drop coverage against elite mid-range shooters felt like coaching malpractice.
What made this season particularly fascinating from my perspective was watching how certain role players dramatically outperformed expectations while stars sometimes faltered. Jalen Brunson's ascension in New York was nothing short of remarkable—the Knicks haven't had a point guard this commanding since Clyde Frazier, and I don't say that lightly. His playoff performances, especially that 41-point masterpiece against Miami in the second round, demonstrated a clutch gene I'm not sure anyone knew he possessed. Meanwhile, watching Zion Williamson play only 29 games after his electrifying start was profoundly disappointing. The Pelicans were 23-13 when he played versus 19-27 without him, and his absence completely derailed what could have been a special season in New Orleans.
The Paras observation about defensive connectivity resonates particularly when examining the Denver Nuggets' championship run. Nikola Jokić might not be the most athletic center, but his defensive positioning and communication created a cohesion that more talented teams lacked. I've always believed championship teams need at least three reliable two-way players, and Denver had exactly that with Jokić, Aaron Gordon, and Kentavious Caldwell-Pope. Their playoff run—losing just four games total before the Finals—was a masterclass in team construction, proving that fit often trumps raw talent. Watching them dismantle more heralded opponents was satisfying for someone who's long argued that basketball intelligence outweighs athleticism in playoff settings.
Then there were the pleasant surprises that reminded me why I love this sport. Lauri Markkanen's transformation in Utah was something I never saw coming—from role player to All-Star averaging 25.6 points per game? The Jazz were supposed to tank after trading Donovan Mitchell and Rudy Gobert, but instead they became one of the league's most entertaining teams. Similarly, Shai Gilgeous-Alexander's emergence as a legitimate MVP candidate in Oklahoma City signaled the arrival of the next generation of superstars. His 31.4 points per game on 51% shooting from a guard is video game numbers, and at just 24 years old, he's only scratching the surface of his potential.
Of course, not every surprise was positive. The Phoenix Suns acquiring Kevin Durant only to look disjointed and vulnerable in the playoffs was concerning, especially given what they sacrificed to get him. As much as I appreciate Durant's otherworldly talent, the Suns' lack of depth became glaringly obvious against Denver, and their overreliance on mid-range jumpers felt antiquated in today's NBA. Meanwhile, the Golden State Warriors' road struggles—they went 11-30 away from Chase Center—defied logic for a team with so much championship experience. I've never seen a defending champion with such a dramatic home-road split, and it ultimately cost them in the second round against Los Angeles.
Reflecting on the season as a whole, what strikes me most is how the league continues to evolve in unexpected ways. The three-point revolution has plateaued somewhat, with teams now prioritizing offensive rebounds over transition defense—a tactical shift I've found fascinating. The success of players like Jokić and Sabonis suggests the center position is coming full circle, blending traditional post skills with modern playmaking. And the emergence of small-market teams like Sacramento and Oklahoma City as compelling stories gives me hope that competitive balance is improving. The 2022-23 season reminded us that basketball remains beautifully unpredictable, where chemistry and fit can trump superstar collections, and where the most compelling stories often come from the most unexpected places.
