Like that of any other sport, the edifice of basketball's mythology is built upon a foundation of necessary truths. To name a few, there are the notions that an offense is predicated upon selflessness and trust, that defense critically requires a mindset of tenacity and heart, and that the small and intangible factors that collectively constitute a team's identity bear on the quality of play on the court. All of such principles jointly make up "the right way" to play the game.
However, these axioms are more than just a blueprint for success within the sport: They provide the basis for what one is suppose to value in the sport and ask of the sport. See, the modern sports fan is far more sophisticated than people are willing to recognize when it comes to interpreting the nuanced subtleties of the "spirit of the game." We want more than simply titillation and theatrics. We want hustle to be rewarded. We want finesse to be functional. We want love of the game to emanate throughout each participant and to resonate through the rafters. We internalize the game both at an aesthetic and an ethical level, and we take notice when an inviolable rule is contravened.
After finally resolving an infuriatingly intractable and unjustifiably protracted lockout, the NBA will begin a truncated 66-game season on Christmas Day. However, though the mere fact that basketball is back gives us reason to rejoice, the sport remains in a precarious position. When we look at why the lockout occurred in the first place, we see that one main reason was that, too often, the foundational ideals of basketball were being ignored. There were too many bad contracts given to undeserving players on poorly constructed teams, money was recklessly spent for the sake of spending and the burdensome weight of this systemic practice eventually made the financial situation of the league untenable. Teams like the Detroit Pistons, Toronto Raptors and Washington Wizards all doled out vast portions of their cap space to subpar players in order to send a message that they were "committed to winning," regardless of whether or not these personnel decisions served their interest with respect to either financial flexibility or on-court quality. This problem is rooted not in basketball-related income nor any other item that can be teased out of the new collective bargaining agreement, but rather in a widespread incompetence when it comes to applying the ideals of the sport to the composition of an NBA franchise.
For this reason, the Oklahoma City Thunder are one of the most important basketball teams to watch this season, for they embody so much of what we hope can be true of the game. In a league where power hierarchies are typically consonant with the largest media markets, the Thunder have quickly risen to the top of the NBA elite, improving from 23-59 in 2008 to 55-27 last season and a trip to the Western Conference Finals last year. Yet the rapidity of the Thunder's ascendancy does not give due justice to the remarkable growth and maturation that the team has undergone over the span of three years, because focusing on how quickly the team went from laughably bad to unquestionably dominant makes it seem in some way accidental or, at least, surprising. The truth is that everything about the Thunder's recent success should make sense, because it's all part of the plan to build a competitive team from scratch rather than through high-priced free agency.
From management to the coaching staff to the players, what we have in the Thunder is an entity wholly dedicated to doing things the "right way." It's a smartly run franchise that makes the rest of the league seem oafish and uncreative by contrast. The team is the brainchild of General Manager Sam Presti, a bookish graduate of Emerson College who, after cutting his teeth in the San Antonio Spurs front office, took over the Thunder franchise in 2007 and immediately began implementing his vision of a sustainable model for a successful basketball team. Unlike many of their foes, the Thunder have built their team through the draft, taking 2010-2011 NBA scoring champion Kevin Durant second overall in 2007, and All-Star Russell Westbrook fourth overall in 2008. Presti runs the organization with precision and ingenuity, drafting wisely, making shrewd trades and pragmatically handling the team's finances. The risks that he's taken—drafting Congolese power forward Serge Ibaka or trading for center Kendrick Perkins, who was just returning from major knee surgery—have all been calculated moves and, unsurprisingly, have all paid off. Further, the Thunder teams of the last few years have always had a balance of seasoned, dependable veterans that, by virtue of their perspective, facilitate the development of the younger players on the team. All of this seems like conventional wisdom for how a franchise should be run, but Presti seems to be the only one in the league fully applying it. In his stewardship of the Thunder, Presti has not done anything revolutionary, but has simply embraced basketball's ideals and avoided making mistakes.
Beyond being a well-run organization, the Thunder is a fun team to watch. This starts with Durant, the Thunder's 6'11" small forward and franchise cornerstone. One of the most dynamic scorers in the league, Durant is a phenomenal talent, at times unguardable, yet he's also one of the few people in the league who can score 30 points a game without ever seeming to hog the ball because every aspect of his game is subordinated by an overall commitment to team success. On the court, Durant exudes both an undeniable love of the game and a tireless competitiveness that makes him the team's emotional leader. Additionally, Durant has gained a reputation as the league's authentically humble superstar, and he has the unqualified respect of his peers, the media and fans. Westbrook, the Thunder's point guard and second in command, went from being an unheralded player in high school to, now, one of the most explosive point guards in the history of the league. Westbrook plays the game with such intensity that, just by watching him, you can tell how hard he has worked to get to where he is today. Every game he empties the tank, and he takes the game personally. Behind their two superstars, the roster is filled out with players who not only know their role within the team, but who relish doing the little things that add up to success. The Thunder players are testaments to what basketball should be.
This is why the Thunder are so crucial to basketball, now and for the foreseeable future. So long as the team remains the prototype of what an NBA team should be, their success paves a path of praxis that makes me optimistic that the gulf between basketball the ideal and basketball realized might soon be forded. We are currently in a league where the Los Angeles Lakers are making an aggressive push to land superstars Chris Paul and Dwight Howard via trade rather than put in the work to internally fix their already talented team; and the Miami Heat, after already assembling a core of superstars last season, seeks to add even more talent by hoping enough quality veterans decide to take a pay cut to play for a winner. Too many teams are trying to take the easy way out, grabbing assets rather than growing assets—and, if this approach proves successful, it will undoubtedly become the norm. The NBA needs the Thunder to be successful because the Thunder prove that "the right way" still works.
The mantra among Thunder players and personnel is "Every day, get better"; and, when an organization commits itself to constant improvement in this way, it doesn't take long for an organization to dramatically improve its circumstances.

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