America got its first unofficial glimpse at Adam Silver's definition of institutional despair on Wednesday night. Cleveland and Oklahoma City, back to back on national television—five hours of the future, including ads. We needn't tell you that your entertainment mileage may vary. The business considerations for a league whose best teams play in those sub-optimal markets are no one’s problem but Silver's and his network overlords, but the commissioner must be shitting a pewter tea set just thinking about it, and Disney the rest of the flatware.
In a league in which LeBron James and Stephen Curry and the Boston Celtics and New York Knicks continue to dominate thanks to some not-very-deeply buried biases, Wednesday’s glimpse into the new reality was illuminating. Lord knows the NBA tried. Example: During a review on an out-of-bounds play, referee Pat Fraher described the ruling by referring to Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, the league newest badass di tutti badasses, as "SGA"—the hardest of sells for a new big-name player by the weirdest of salesmen.
But Oklahoma City isn't really the team that needs selling. Gilgeous-Alexander truly is a revelation that even casuals can detect; his name is right there atop the league’s scoring ledger, so there’s no secret to any of this by now. And the Thunder, too, are a known quantity. They have no players they need to hide on either end, and even if you are your own grandfather and watch games for the defense, the Thunder deliver. They are the hardest team for your favorite team to run its offense against, and should annoy and awe all of America in equal measure once the playoffs begin.
The team that needs the push, still, is Cleveland. That’s true even though the Cavs have the better record (52-10 as opposed to 51-11), the better offensive rating and true and effective shooting percentages, and put together winning streaks of 15, 12, and 12 games again. They made the bigger trade deadline splash in adding De'Andre Hunter and have been healthier across the board this year, and have been better for longer than the Thunder, which three years ago had put together back-to-back 24- and 22-win seasons highlighted by a 7-footer who played much of a season without taking a free throw. Cleveland has absolutely earned its pride of place.
The general consensus, however it is measured, is still that any Finals matchup that includes Oklahoma City will be more palatable to the league than any Finals matchup that includes Cleveland, if only because outside the Cuyahoga Valley, most NBA fans are still expecting Boston to Boston it up in May and June, when all the bets are cashed.
This made Wednesday night a potentially revelatory moment, and what was revealed amounted to the reason why fans still aren't engaged with the Cavs in the way that their performance suggests is appropriate. Cleveland brought out their alien-looking powder blue alternate jerseys with the aggressively anonymizing "THE LAND" legend across the front and the court, which left many folks wondering why the Miami Heat were playing North Carolina. And then the game began, and the Cavs put up one of their least inspiring performances, needing a late chokehold to subdue the moribund post-Butlerian Heat by the utterly featureless score of 112-107. The box score was no jazzier a read than that score suggests, and there wasn't a single Donovan Mitchell basket or Darius Garland pass that stuck to the brain two possessions later. The best team in the NBA won a game in March by just enough, even though the Heat featured an all-time disasterpiece from Terry Rozier. That's not exactly top-shelf advertising material.
Then again, Miami in even its current state is not much of a backdrop. The Heat are 29-32 and are seventh in the East despite leading the Southeast Division, which at its current rate of 112 wins against 196 losses will be the worst division in pro sports history. There is an excellent chance that the Southeast winner—and, yes, the Heat are only a game better than the injury-ravaged Orlandii—will finish with a losing record, the first time that has ever happened. Their three best teams will be stuck in the play-in, which is the waiting room in a cave-in. As a group, they put the "ass" in "those guys are ass."
But for the most part, the East in general is considerably worse, as it has been for almost the entirety of the current century, which makes it harder for a team from the East to be taken not only seriously but fearfully. The Celtics have underachieved for a defending champion, and are eight games worse than they were a year ago; the Knicks are confusing in general (you can take them out of 11th but you can't take them out of the DolanWorld); only the sixth-place Detroit Pistons can truly say that they're having a good time every day because a year ago they were 14-68.
But worse for the Cavs' Q rating, they are the best team to come out of the pandemic in terms of aggregate record without winning a championship. Boston did, Denver did, Milwaukee did, but the Cavs have yet to reach even a conference final, and like it or not, that's how we do our grading. We aren't impressed until we are, and many casuals who actually drive ratings figures think the NBA season starts on May 15 and ends on June 20. The Cavs are the great white elk of teams—admired in the abstract, rarely seen with the naked eye, and apparently uncomfortable in warmer weather.
Thus, Wednesday was a moment to remember, and the Cavs barely survived. They are clearly better than this, but in a world where people are too used to being lied to to believe in anything, this wasn't the breakout moment America craved. "Not losing" isn't the same as "winning," even in a binary state like game results. But maybe it would help if they stopped dressing like North Carolina playing Wake Forest.
