DENVER — They were the Bad News Bears in purple and gold.
A ragtag roster, a MASH unit masquerading as championship hopefuls, a patchwork quilt stitched by a rookie coach who somehow turned threadbare into threading needles.
The Lakers, missing LeBron James, Luka Dončić, and half their rotation, didn’t just compete against the Denver Nuggets on Friday night. They convulsed them. They led with 52 seconds left. They made Nikola Jokić sweat, Jamal Murray bleed, and Denver’s dominance doubt.
Then, as expected, they lost.
But oh, how they almost won.
Austin Reaves, the folk hero turned rebel in Rigorer, dropped 37 points, 13 assists and eight rebounds—a stat line so absurd it felt like a video game glitch.
Dalton Knecht, the rookie with a shooter’s soul and a stuntman’s fearlessness, poured in 32, including a go-ahead bucket that sent him crashing to the floor like a daredevil without a net.
Together, they were David without a sling, Rocky without gloves, a duo that turned Ball Arena’s leftovers into a five-course feast.
“Almost” currently plagues the Lakers. Almost ended the Nuggets’ hex. Almost proved depth trumps destiny. It almost made us forget the absences, the aches, and the asterisks. But in that “almost,” there’s a blueprint. A beacon. A blessing.
JJ Redick, the coach who looks more like a philosophy TA than an NBA tactician, orchestrated chaos into cohesion. No LeBron? No Luka? No problem.
He plugged in G-League call-ups, two-way castoffs, and Bronny James—yes, that Bronny—and turned them into a symphony of scrappiness. They clawed from 13 down. They forced 18 turnovers. They made Jokic, the basketball Buddha, look human.
Redick’s masterstroke? Treating this game not as a surrender, but a laboratory. A test tube for tenacity.
The Nuggets won, 131-126, but the victory rings hollow. Murray’s dagger three? A Band-Aid on a bullet wound. Jokic’s heroics? A sigh of relief.
Denver’s hearts chanted, “Beat LA!” but their eyes betrayed dread. This LA? This motley crew of misfits? If the Lakers’ B-team can push these contenders to the brink, what happens when the stars return?
Reaves was Houdini in high-tops, weaving through defenders, pilfering passes, playing with a panache that screamed, “I’m here, I’m him, deal with it.”
Knecht, the rookie with ice in his veins, drained threes like he was watering desert cacti. Jordan Goodwin, a footnote in February, became a folk hero in March, hitting clutch shots and diving for loose balls like his paycheck depended on it (it does). Even Bronny, recalled from the G-League, splashed a three over Jokić and didn’t flinch—a glimpse of grit in the glare.
But “almost” lingers. Koloko’s late foul on Jokic. Redick’s substitution misstep. The final minute, where Denver’s pedigree met LA’s pluck, and pedigree prevailed.
Yet in that failure, there’s fuel. The Lakers didn’t just lose—they learned.
They know Reaves can carry an offense. They confirmed Knecht is no fluke. They realized Redick, the rookie coach, can out-scheme a champion.
The Bad News Bears never won the big one but displayed and won hearts. This Lakers team, battered and bandaged, did the same. They reminded us that basketball isn’t just about stars—it’s about spirit. About Shake Milton’s 16 points off the bench, Jarred Vanderbilt’s seven dimes, Christian Koloko’s defiant block. It's about a Jackson Pollock of a coach who treats every game as a canvas, every player as a vat of paint.
So file this under “moral victory.” Roll your eyes. Cynics will scoff. But remember: Playoffs loom. LeBron heals. Luka lurks. And if this patchwork crew can push Denver to the edge, imagine what happens when the threads tighten.
Almost isn’t always anguish. Sometimes, it’s a prelude.
Stay tuned.