There I was, watching the fourth quarter of the Phoenix Suns’ loss to the Los Angeles Lakers. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The youthful movement that so many have been clamoring for — myself included — was on full display, and boy, did they look youthful. Koby Brea launching bomb after bomb, Rasheer Fleming tossing the ball to the other team, no semblance of organized offense to be found. They finished with 9 points in the quarter. 73 points for the game, their lowest total since St. Patrick’s Day of 2016. Ten years since we’ve seen a Suns team score 73 or less.
But hey, that gives us a chance to look back at the Suns’ history, right? And when we do, we are reminded of darker times. Much darker times.
And as I sat there watching it unfold, I felt a little sadness creep in. Maybe it was the margaritas on a Friday night after a long week. Maybe it was something deeper. The NBA is a cycle, and the regular season is closing in on its final turn.
The back end of the season has been frustrating. When I look back at what I’ve written and the observations I’ve made, I can see where the negativity has crept into my own lens. But I also want to put something out there that reminds me, and anyone reading, of the positive things that have happened. Because even with frustrations around the rotations from head coach Jordan Ott or the issues defending the paint over the past two months, I’m not ungrateful. I’m grateful. This season could have gone sideways. We could have experienced no identity, no opportunity, and nothing to build on. Instead, an identity showed up. It faded some, but it exists. And the organization followed through on what it talked about last summer.
The cycle keeps moving, and I don’t expect a deep postseason run. Part of me is uneasy about the Play-In, about the potential Blazers or Clippers matchups, about facing teams that are trending up while the Suns are still searching this late in the year. Call it Post-Traumatic Suns Disorder. It’s an annual April tradition. And that’s fine.
Because when I look back on this season once it concludes, I’ll write about how thankful I am that it happened. This was an inflection point, and it was handled the right way. At worst, this team finishes with 44 wins. I had them at 35. There’s no version of this where I walk away disappointed.
The cycle tells you what comes next, and what comes next doesn’t carry the same rhythm as the season. I love the in-season rhythm. I’m guessing you do too. You’re here every day, reading, absorbing, reacting, and throwing your thoughts into the mix. I enjoy the thought exercises, the graphics, the podcasts, the matchups, and the injury reports. The regular season gives you a cadence that fits. And in that fourth quarter, while things were unraveling, I felt it. That quiet realization that this is almost over.
I’m looking forward to the break. Everyone needs it. The players need the mental and physical reset, and I’ll take one too. I’ll settle into it, pick a video game to play to get me through the Arizona summer, and take advantage of some rest. I always do. But I also know what’s coming. The offseason conversations, the scenarios, and the debates. They can wear on you. This offseason will be interesting. Last offseason was about laying the foundation. This one is about what you do with it, how you build on it, and how you make the next set of decisions. That part isn’t easy.
I’m looking forward to those conversations. At the same time, I’m going to miss this. The day-to-day. The random Friday night against the Lakers where everything goes sideways and you’re sitting there taking it in anyway, albeit with a little help from a reposado-based adult beverage. I’ll miss the grind. I’m thankful for it.
Last season felt like a finish line I couldn’t wait to reach. This one feels different. I don’t want it to end. It’s something to hold onto, something to appreciate. We want it to keep going as long as it can. But like every season, it ends. The question now becomes when. And we’ll learn that in the days (and hopefully weeks) to come.
