SAN ANTONIO, TX - MARCH 8: Victor Wembanyama #1 of the San Antonio Spurs greets the fans after the game against the Houston Rockets on March 8, 2026 at the Frost Bank Center in San Antonio, Texas. NOTE TO USER: User expressly acknowledges and agrees that, by downloading and or using this photo graph, user is consenting to the terms and conditions of the Getty Images License Agreement. Mandatory Copyright Notice: Copyright 2026 NBAE (Photos by Michael Gonzales/NBAE via Getty Images) | NBAE via Getty Images I’ll get the usual caveats out of the way first. It’s just one game. It’s the regular season. The playoffs are a different animal. We shouldn’t get carried away. “Weren’t you the guy sitting here this time last week after the Knicks loss telling us not to get too high or low about anything right now?” Yes. Correct. Fair point. Okay. Have we done that? Are we good? Have we done our acknowledgements? Have we given our quick nod to mortality? Good. Because I’m starting to think things I probably shouldn’t. Starting to feel things I didn’t expect to feel for a while. Starting to remember things I’d kind of forgotten. We’re at that point where the endgame of the season can only break a few different ways. Maybe it ends in heartbreak. A hard fought playoff series against a really good opponent who just has one or two more answers than we do. A break here or there that we don’t get. A shot that goes in and suddenly we’re all laying on the floor absolutely spent because we can’t believe what just happened actually happened. Something to add to the Ray Allen folder we keep in the attic and only open when a national TV broadcast rudely blindsides us with it. That’s on the table now. We’re in range. That kind of pain is part of the table stakes for the game we’re now playing. We could also find ourselves a few weeks from now sitting here feeling a little sheepish about getting out over our skis back in March. Some version where the season ends with a 4-1 or 4-2 series loss to a team that simply outclasses the Spurs. Maybe they have more experience. Maybe our guys wobble just a little under the pressure. Not a meltdown. Just a wobble. A cartoon Coyote who has run off the edge of the cliff and is only able to keep running until he accidentally looks down and realizes where he is. With a team this young, it would be naive, maybe even a little irresponsible, not to at least acknowledge that possibility. A group with this little playoff experience being dropped straight into the fire. We don’t have to dwell on it. We just have to, you know, give it a nod. Because. Because the other possibility is here now too. Loud. Present. Practically shouting in our faces. Like a toddler who is up at 6:00 AM even though their parent’s body clock insists it’s still 5:00. This team can win the whole thing. They can play with anyone. They can beat anyone. They can get this thing done and, for as many reasons as there are that it might not happen, at this point there are just as many reasons that it might. Which is wild. Like, genuinely wild. When the Spurs made their first championship run, I was ten years old. When I really think about it, that playoff run might be one of the earliest memories I have where every detail still feels as vivid as if it happened yesterday. Fiesta was happening in April and the whole city felt like it was on tilt. If you weren’t partying, you were watching the Spurs. If you weren’t watching the Spurs, you were talking about the Spurs. Every other car had one of those little plastic flags clipped to the window. Homemade posters and signs hung off front porches. Giant “Go Spurs Go” banners flapped off the sides of buildings. I remember driving down Austin Highway and seeing all those tents selling bootleg merch. I remember marveling at the massive Spurs flag out on 410 that I’m pretty sure Body Solutions put up. Remember Body Solutions? The weight loss supplement? Good times. This was a ten year old’s brain, mind you, but it felt like I went to bed every night thinking about the Spurs and woke up every morning feeling like it was Christmas because I got to go out into the world and be a Spurs fan. We went to a game against the Jazz during that run where we absolutely waxed those nerds. Tim had 36 and basically stuffed Karl Malone in a locker. John Stockton kept bricking threes and the crowd reacted like his pants had fallen down while he stepped on a rake. I still have these really tangible sense memories of sitting in the Alamodome that night. The sounds, the smells, the colors. Fiesta colors popping against the white uniforms. The deep vivid blue of that weird curtain that separated the stadium. Asking my dad who Johnny Moore was. During timeouts they kept playing “Hey Macarena” even though that trend was about four years too late. Didn’t matter. We ate it up. Mostly I remember how happy everyone was. Just pure joy. We were acting like fools because we were fools in love. I’d never been part of something bigger than myself before and it felt like my brain suddenly opening up to a wider world. The Spurs were 9-0 at home during April and something like 13-2 overall. I was too young to care whether the national media was saying “This Spurs team has arrived” or not. As a ten year old experiencing an unprecedented level of sports bliss, I probably couldn’t have explained any of that. But even if I didn’t have the words for it yet, I could tell we were standing on the edge of something special. Watching this team come back from the Rodeo Road Trip and play in front of these rocking home crowds has got me feeling some type of way. It’s loud in there, y’all. It feels like a party. Limbs flying around after every bucket. “Olé” songs breaking out like it’s a soccer match. Every single cut to the crowd showing people with those “just can’t help it” grins plastered all over their faces. The energy in that building feels insane. Even through the TV you can feel it. Watching the games lately has been this constant burst of color and light and sound that elevates everything happening on the floor to a level I was simply not prepared for. As I’m reminded on a daily basis, I am no longer ten years old. I’ve experienced a lot more of the world since then. I’ve been in love and had my heart broken. I’ve lived in different cities. I’ve started a family. It’s the most cliché thing in the world but, you know, life has a way of just sort of happening when you aren’t even paying attention. Life kept moving. And somewhere along the way the Spurs kept happening too. I watched them win more championships than that ten year old version of me could have possibly imagined. I watched Manu turn back the clock and dunk on Chris Bosh. I watched Tim Duncan walk off the floor for the last time. I watched the whole thing slowly wind down. I even watched the Spurs bottom out to the point where I wasn’t really watching anymore. You accumulate a lot of context along the way. A lot of scar tissue. The older you get, the harder it becomes to let yourself feel things the way you did when you were a kid. Logistically, it simply can’t matter as much as it did back then. You become cautious. Analytical. You start protecting yourself a little bit. There’s other stuff going on. Life’s out there happening, right? And yet. Right now the building is shaking again. Victor is coming into his own. The team is playing like they’ve been together for years. Dunks bring the house down. Threes send people over the edge. There’s no deficit we can’t come back from. There’s no opponent we can’t run out of the gym. The music is loud. The party is constant. You’ve got the crowd randomly deciding to start chanting “CAR-TER BRY-ANT” just because he’s our dude and we simply must chant for him. We’re losing our minds. We’re fools in love. I’m just noticing, is all I’m saying. My knees hurt more than they used to, but the colors are starting to feel pretty vivid again. Takeaways: – Here’s a freakin’ takeaway, the Spurs are good! Watch this dunk! oh my god pic.twitter.com/Pk5424Mune— Point Made Basketball (@pointmadebball) March 9, 2026 Here’s another freakin’ takeway, we got 7’5’ Steph Curry on the team, we’re never losing again, watch this three: BIG BUCKET VIC pic.twitter.com/p4LZwaOqHl— San Antonio Spurs (@spurs) March 9, 2026 One more freakin’ takeaway, my guy sent that joint to a different universe! VICTOR SPIKED IT ‼️📺 @NBAonNBC, @Telemundo pic.twitter.com/2olT7Sae0i— San Antonio Spurs (@spurs) March 9, 2026 The offense is absolutely humming right now. I don’t know how sustainable it is but, man, when the Spurs are moving the ball like this it feels like they’re capable of setting the world on fire. Thirty-eight assists is a lot! It’s one of the best vital signs you can check when you’re trying to figure out how good this team can actually be. Even just watching the game you can tell when they hit that flow state. The ball is constantly bopping around and it’s not just one person leading the charge, everybody is involved and everybody is trying to find the best shot for the team. It’s unselfish, it’s beautiful, and it’s about as fun as basketball gets. When this one ended I walked away thinking Devin Vassell had a really good game. He’s been on such a great run lately and it just felt like another example of how well he’s been playing. Then I checked the box score this morning and saw he went 0-6 from the field, which honestly surprised me because I still feel like he was really good last night. He was facilitating the offense, he demands respect from opposing defenses, and he was working hard on the defensive end. Sometimes guys can impact the game even when the shot isn’t falling, and Vassell feels like he’s reached that point in his development. I don’t know man, I’m just some dummy on the internet but I think Devin Vassell is pretty great. Just saying this now so we can start preparing for it it, but the Spurs are going to play the Celtics in the finals and its going to be annoyinggggggggggggggggggggggg. Since February 1…NBA BEST RECORD1. San Antonio2. BostonNBA NET RATING1. San Antonio2. BostonNBA DEFENSE1. Boston2. San AntonioSee you Tuesday night… https://t.co/fTh2j6lJu9— Sean Grande (@SeanGrandePBP) March 9, 2026 WWL Post Game Press Conference – Felt like a big swing here, bringing up old childhood memories and what not. Are you worried about maybe pressing the “Nostalgia Memories” button too early here? – Like, is this the right time for it? – Right, is this maybe one you want to save for the playoffs? – I think, look, if you have the shot then you take it. That’s the mentality here. You can’t count on it coming back around. I had something to say so I said it. I have to trust that, should the Spurs find themselves in the playoffs or, Lord willing, a situation where they win some big games down the road, that I will have something to say then as well. – Are you worried about a jinx? – A jinx? You’re asking me about jinxes? I’m never worried about a jinx, get out of here with that. Everything I write is steps to success. Some nights you get some nostalgia bait, some nights you get 900 words on pick‑and‑roll coverage. It’s not jinx; it’s process. ...read more read less