Dear OKC,
We were blessed with the opportunity by @HEB to go to your city for game 7 and… wow.
Transparently, with all the responses we’ve gotten from OKC fans on here, we thought a lot of hate was waiting for us at Paycom but we couldn’t have been more wrong.
99% of your fans were so kind and welcoming, even congratulating each and every one of us after the win. The pregame chant battles were nothing but respectful and filled with friendly banter.
There is a common sentiment that you have some of the loudest fans in the NBA and that might just be true. Every single one of you on your feet the entire game, every single OKC fan in the shirt, and your use of the clappers is impeccable. An hour before tip and the arena was already full. We’re still biased towards San Antonio, but if we’re looking for a second place in crowd environment, you guys are up there.
We know that this will not be the last time we see OKC in a playoff run, I imagine it’ll be a fairly consistent thing, but after 12 games this season, your real fanbase definitely has our respect and we can’t help but tip our hat.
Thank you for being an amazing host to us, we hope all of your players get healthy, and can’t wait for the NBA’s newest big rivalry to continue.
P&L
-S
“Life has never been the same since the Thunder arrived.”
After coming over from Seattle in 2008, the @okcthunder had an immediate impact for the city both on and off the court.
📺 Watch "The Oklahoma Standard” Sunday at 11 AM ET on @espn and the ESPN App.
In 2013, the entire internet (rightfully) cooked Microsoft for the Xbox One’s mandatory 24-hour check-in DRM. It was a PR disaster so bad they had to do a total 180 before launch just to survive.
Massive waves of people fled to PlayStation, claiming they were "voting with their wallets" for "the gamers" and "ownership."
Fast forward to 2026, and those same people have spent over a decade building massive digital libraries in the Sony ecosystem, only to find themselves dealing with the exact same "periodic authentication" DRM they claimed to hate back then.
The funniest part? Watching those same people now do absolute mental gymnastics to defend it. "It's just a bug!" "It's for security!" "Who stays offline for 30 days anyway?" The gaslighting is incredible.
Turns out the DRM wasn't defeated in 2013; it just waited for you to get comfortable and trapped in a digital ecosystem.
To my Oklahoma family;
this piece comes straight from the heart.
I hope you’ll take a moment to read it and feel what I felt.
Thank you for allowing me to be a small part of it.
I came to @okcthunder to play basketball. I left carrying 168 lives.
When I was traded to the Oklahoma City Thunder, I was thinking about basketball, nothing more.
I didn’t know that before I ever stepped on the court, this place would show me something that would stay with me far longer than any game.
Like any player, my mind was on the game. A new team, a new city, a new opportunity. I expected the usual routine when I landed in Oklahoma City. Physicals, practices, meetings, and a jersey waiting in a locker.
But before any of that, Sam Presti pulled me aside and told me there was somewhere we needed to go.
He didn’t explain much, and I didn’t think to ask. I was focused on the next step in my career.
What I didn’t understand was that, before I could represent the place I was about to play for, I needed to understand it.
So instead of heading to the facility, he took me to the Oklahoma City National Memorial & Museum.
I walked in without knowing what I was about to see, and within minutes, everything slowed down.
There are 168 chairs at the memorial, each one representing a life lost on April 19, 1995. They are arranged in quiet rows, each engraved with a name, each standing where a person once stood in that building. Then you notice something that is impossible to process the first time you see it. Some of the chairs are smaller.
They belong to children.
There is no speech that prepares you for that, no headline that captures it. You simply stand there, and the silence carries a kind of weight that is hard to describe but impossible to ignore.
As you walk through the memorial, you pass between two gates marked 9:01 and 9:03. At first, they seem like simple numbers, but then you understand what they hold. One marks the last minute before the attack. The other marks the first minute after. And in between those two gates is 9:02, the moment when everything changed.
That minute does not feel like history when you are standing there. It feels present.
The reflecting pool stretches across what used to be a city street, its surface calm and still. When you look into it, you do not just see water. You see yourself standing in a place where unimaginable loss occurred, and for a moment, everything else in your life becomes quieter.
Nearby stands the Survivor Tree, an American elm that was damaged in the blast but endured. It is not untouched. Its scars are part of what it represents. But it is still standing, and in that, it carries a kind of strength that does not need to be explained.
We did not speak much while we were inside. It did not feel like a place for conversation. Some places ask for words. This one asks for reflection.
When we stepped outside, Sam Presti looked me in the eye and said, “This is what this state has been through.”
Then he said something I will never forget.
“Every time you step on that court, you are not just playing in front of fans. You are playing for a state that carries this with it. Give them everything you have. They deserve that.”
In that moment, basketball felt different.
Not smaller, but clearer.
Because what I had just seen was not only about what was lost. It was about what remained. A state that had experienced unimaginable pain and still chose to come together, to rebuild, and to move forward without losing its humanity.
From that day on, every time I stepped on the court, I carried that with me.
On the nights when I was tired, when I was hurt, when I was dealing with challenges that felt heavy in the moment, I would think about those chairs, about that minute, about the people behind those names. And I was reminded that what I was going through did not compare to what this state had endured.
https://t.co/XfNLliRVaO
@JLF_Snow I will say, even with the frustration of my first foray into real extraction shooter, there were intense moments worth coming back to, but the atmosphere and environment hooked me.
Great loop. Good fun, even being merc’d relentlessly.
I’ll upload my consciousness again.
Read this today:
“The loneliness that does the most damage doesn’t announce itself—it hides inside full calendars, family dinners, and the quiet assumption that being needed is the same as being known.”