There is no more enjoyable stage in a team’s life cycle than exactly where the Oklahoma City Thunder are right now. Ascending without expectations. Young without pressure. Über-talented without a formidable price tag. Enthusiasm without self-interest. Joy without pain. 

The Thunder got here through several years of calculated decisions, small and large, that have given them as much optionality as any team in recent history. Now, their future is so propitious that it threatens to blot out any conversation about their present. But the here and now matters too, and last season saw this team start to fulfill its promise faster than anyone imagined.

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In 2022-23, Oklahoma City rapped its knuckles on the door that divides the NBA’s upper tier from everyone else. The second-youngest roster in the league finished 40-42, earning a pinch of adoration with a hectic, admirably mediocre yield on both sides of the ball. Their offensive rating was 16th, sandwiched between the Bucks and Clippers. Their defensive rating was 13th, in the middle of the Lakers and Warriors. (These results merited a second-place Coach of the Year finish for Mark Daigneault, who recently signed a contract extension.)

OKC won and lost a play-in game in 2023, and its most probable outcome in 2024 will be something similar. But the best-case scenario is that of an overachieving 50-win bully. Chest out, physical, annoying, vibrant, electric, relentless, emboldened by the kind of confidence so often inhabited by kids who aren’t intimidated by what they don’t know. The Thunder can become last year’s Kings. Or, more terrifyingly, the pre-drama Grizzlies from 2021-22. (The West has only two or three squads that are indifferent about making the postseason, but every team has flaws and none is likely to separate from the herd during the regular season. Young legs will serve OKC well in an era defined by load management, roster turnover, and, of late, parity.)  

A bounce is coming. If it’s high enough—say, contending for home-court advantage in a first-round playoff series—some tension may ripple through the organization. How competitive would the Thunder have to be for their general manager, Sam Presti, to abandon his carefully laid plans and embrace impatience? I’m getting a little ahead of myself with this question, but it speaks to why the intrigue surrounding this team is as much about what’s happening right now as it is about what it can theoretically be in two or three years. 

The process of barreling through barriers that aren’t quite ready to give can be messy. This explains the Thunder’s confidently cautious summer, which stands in contrast to how the Rockets used cap space to accelerate their own restoration. There’s no need for Oklahoma City to rush. Its collection of draft picks and swaps over the next seven years reads like an ambitious diner menu. But Presti’s maneuvering this offseason evinces a disconnect between the front office’s long-term approach and what this talented roster may already be capable of. 

While not imminent, a consolidation trade of some kind is inevitable thanks to a CBA that will strong-arm even the smartest franchises into becoming victims of their own success. In the meantime, this year’s team may warrant win-now tweaks to propel it even higher. Instead of auctioning off vets for whatever value they could squeeze, as the Thunder did last year with Mike Muscala, there’s no harm in doing the opposite: attaching salary to draft capital for a more established player or two. It’s almost impossible for Oklahoma City to short-circuit two timelines that are trying to accomplish different things. Resources are plentiful. Finances are in order (for now). An on-court identity is evolving but already effective, with a defense that’s a Ziploc bag lined with flypaper and an offense spearheaded by a quirky, unstoppable scorer who just made first-team All-NBA.

Development isn’t always linear, but last year’s Thunder showed a level of discipline that belied their experience. They hustled back on defense, took care of the ball, played fast, and forced a ton of turnovers. They honed their abundance of size, length, and aggression; their 41.5 kick-out passes per 100 possessions led the league, as did the percentage of their possessions with a paint touch (71.6 percent). 

Half-court actions featured a series of arbitrary picks and slips unleashed to dizzying effect; no team came close to setting as many small-small ball screens as OKC did, with 3,202. (The next-highest team had about 800 fewer.) It’s an aesthetically pleasing, interdependent brand of basketball that’s been paired with endearing tenacity. The Thunder drew more charges than any other team last year while averaging the third-most contests and tying for third most loose balls recovered. They were resilient, too: Upon dropping five games in a row after the All-Star break, OKC quietly won eight of its next 10 and ended the season with a better net rating than the Lakers, Clippers, Timberwolves, Hawks, and Heat.

For those who believe the Thunder will build on that momentum, optimism starts with Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, a 25-year-old who averaged 31.4 points last year while shooting 53.3 percent inside the arc and leading the league in free throws. Ludicrous stuff. No one broke out quite like he did, with a chasm-crossing leap from “tantalizing pupil” to “bona fide superstar” that rearranged the entire team’s outlook. When you have an improving top-10 player like Gilgeous-Alexander, ceilings disappear. 

But the Thunder aren’t a one-man show. And several players around SGA accentuate his exploding talent by taking ownership of responsibilities that could otherwise weigh him down. Take Josh Giddey, a dazzling playmaker who reads the floor with prodigious anticipation. He’s best known for passes that deserve headlines. Leaving his hand, they sometimes bend like a Wiffle ball with heat-seeking technology.

Giddey is more than his brilliant vision, though. He averaged 16.6 points and 7.9 rebounds last year, regularly flirting with triple-doubles and not letting his erratic 3-point shot or limited athleticism thwart all the subtle and breathtaking ways he impacted winning. The 6-foot-8 20-year-old (!) is a walking mismatch with craft, patience, and a bottomless reservoir of options when caught in a sticky situation. 

Unique flair and compact fluidity enable Giddey to move at whatever speed suits him. It breeds the same unpredictability that motors SGA and, so impressively, reigning rookie sensation Jalen Williams, whose boundless upside has done wonders to push this entire organization along quicker than anyone thought possible before he was drafted.

Williams may already be Oklahoma City’s second-best player. He has All-Star potential and a game that strikes without warning both on and off the ball. Guile, explosiveness, and intangibles allow Williams to better any lineup at almost any position. Having one of the most positive wingspans in the league doesn’t hurt either. 

Those are three foundational pick-and-roll conductors who make teammates better, but the Thunder’s most riveting and pivotal contributor this season—apologies for burying the lede—is Chet Holmgren, the 7-foot-1 aggro paint presence who was selected second in the 2022 draft but then suffered a foot injury that ended his rookie season before it began. 

The Thunder were undersized, beat up on the glass, unable to finish around the basket, and foul prone last year. Enter a lanky lob threat with touch, sublime footwork, range, and timing. It’s almost serendipitous to plop Holmgren’s offensive skill set beside the attention-drawing playmakers who are already blooming on Oklahoma City’s roster. His role is simple, though his skill permits more responsibility down the line. Run, catch, dunk, repeat. If open behind the 3-point line, let it fly until opposing big men venture outside the paint and can be punished in other ways. 

The fit on offense is clean. The fit on defense is exquisite. Holmgren has consummate verticality. He’ll walk into his rookie season as someone who can average two or three blocks a game, to say nothing of how his contests and rebounding will ignite fast-break opportunities. Surrounded by teammates who can hold their own on the perimeter, navigate screens, close out under control, and shrink the floor with exceptionally long arms, Holmgren can even switch when a matchup calls for it. 

That’s four cornerstone-caliber talents. Beyond them, Oklahoma City’s depth chart is comically unknowable. Right now, the roster is bloated, with 20 players under contract, including two non-guaranteed deals that OKC would be wise to keep around (especially Isaiah Joe, whose graceful 3-point stroke, constant movement, and stray ball screens helped lift the Thunder to a sizzling 117.5 offensive rating when he was on the court, the highest mark on the team). 

The Thunder comprise practical role players, intriguing gambles, and several high-pedigree lottery picks, all battling for minutes, touches, and shots as they hope to carve out a slice of recognition. It sounds like a mess, but Daigneault will have endless lineup combinations that are as viable as they are menacing. Depending on what the matchup dictates, he can play big with traditional groups that have real size or roll out smaller units that won’t budge on the defensive end. There’s more shooting, versatility, and maturity—all qualities that will particularly help OKC’s crunchtime offense. 

Lu Dort is cement glue, the kind of on-ball nuisance every playoff team needs. Vasilije Micic led the EuroLeague in scoring two seasons ago, when his team won its second straight championship. Kenrich Williams is a sensible do-whatever-is-asked veteran who’s easy to visualize on a title contender. Davis Bertans is a proven stretch 4 who can open the floor for a team that slants downhill. Victor Oladipo is once again injured and also, at 31, OKC’s oldest player. 

Here are some other players with potential who have yet to celebrate their 23rd birthday: Tre Mann, Jaylin Williams, Aleksej Pokusevski, Ousmane Dieng, TyTy Washington Jr., and Usman Garuba. It’s so crowded that we haven’t even mentioned Cason Wallace, the 10th overall pick out of Kentucky whom Presti traded up for. As another blue-chip rookie, can Wallace rival the first impression J-Dub made, mirroring the same cool self-reliance and defensive integrity? Maybe! 

But even after they get whittled down to 15 players, the Thunder will be deep, persistent, and loaded with complementary talent that’s trending in the right direction. This doesn’t make them a contender, but there’s a world where they’ll crack the conference semifinals out of nowhere, even though everyone should’ve seen them coming. Since Daigneault was named head coach, this team has gone from a crawl, to a walk, to a jog. The next step is making a dust cloud.

Over 10 years after they traded James Harden and killed a superteam that never was, the Thunder are once again authoring a brochure titled “How to Succeed in a Small Market.” It’s more than understandable to become enamored of their future, particularly when you consider Presti’s ability to trump just about any trade offer for a restless or unhappy superstar whenever he concludes the time is right. But what this team can achieve should not be overlooked—by the rest of the NBA, nor by the very architect most responsible for what they’ve already become.

Michael Pina

Michael Pina is a senior staff writer at The Ringer who covers the NBA.