Here’s what you need to know about championship basketball: sometimes you win games not with your prettiest lineup, but with your grittiest one.
With 3:50 remaining in the fourth quarter against Denver Thursday night, the Warriors trailed 116-109. Nikola Jokic had just buried a mid-range jumper, and Steve Kerr called timeout. Out came a lineup that would make analytics departments everywhere uncomfortable: Stephen Curry, Jimmy Butler, Jonathan Kuminga, Draymond Green, and Al Horford.
Let’s talk about each piece of this puzzle, because every single one carries baggage.
Butler? Supposedly too washed at 35 to matter in the West. Kuminga? Still proving he belongs in crunch time. Green? In the last three years we’ve had so many conversations where half the world wondered if the fire that made him special had turned into something destructive. Horford? The man is 38 years old, closer to retirement than his prime. And then there’s Curry, supposed to be carrying the offensive load while everyone else does the dirty work.
So what happened? They outscored Denver 7-4 down the 4th quarter stretch to send it in to overtime. More importantly, they turned Chase Center into a phone booth. They made every possession feel like a bar fight, got physical in ways that made the Nuggets uncomfortable, and created just enough chaos for Curry to do Curry things.
Look at how these “misfits” performed: Butler posted 21 points on 6-of-15 shooting with 6 assists, 3 steals, and zero turnovers in 39 minutes. Kuminga added 14 points on an efficient 6-of-11 shooting. Green stuffed the stat sheet with 13 points, 8 rebounds, and 8 assists while shooting 5-of-8 from the field. And Horford, at 38 years old, dropped 13 points on 5-8 shooting, including 3-4 from deep.
Everybody is so worried about what Horford can’t do! He can’t play 40 minutes a night, he can’t carry the scoring load like he could when he was in his prime, he can’t even jump that high! You know what else he won’t do in the aggregate? Make poor decisions that loses the game. Folks, a whole lot of life is just not beating yourself. Horford’s veteran savvy and high hoops IQ means that he’s going to make the right decision and follow the correct process more times than not.
For a team desperately trying to learn how to win together in year 17 of the Steph Curry experience, having a guy like that at your disposal is an invaluable tool. By the way, Tim Duncan aka the Big Fundamental was a 38-year old triple OG when he won his final championship. I’m not asking Horford to be big Timmy, but he definitely has plenty in his tank for the role the Dubs want him to play: be a big presence in the paint defensively, keep the ball moving on offense, knock down timely shots, and generally be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
Every single one of those dudes finished with a positive plus-minus in a high degree of difficulty game against a proud and battle tested Nuggets squad. Butler and Kuminga were +8, Green was +11, Horford +6. Meanwhile, Curry exploded for 42 points on 14-25 shooting, including 6-12 from three and a perfect 8-8 from the line. This wasn’t the Warriors playing beautiful basketball. This was the Warriors playing necessary basketball. There’s a difference, and champions understand it.
You want to know the dirty secret of Golden State’s dynasty? It was never just about three-pointers and ball movement. It was about having Draymond turn the paint into a war zone. It was about dudes willing to sacrifice their bodies, their stats, their highlights, for one more stop. Can you switch a pick-and-roll between Jokic and Jamal Murray with this lineup? Yes. Can you protect the rim? Yes. Can you rebound? With this much length and Draymond quarterbacking everything, you’ve got a fighting chance.
And here’s the beautiful part: you’ve still got Steph Curry. The gravity, the shooting, the ability to conjure points from the parking lot. But now he’s surrounded by size that can switch, physicality that can disrupt, and intelligence that can execute. This isn’t about abandoning what makes Golden State special. The movement, the shooting, the pace will still be there for 43 minutes a game. But in those crucial moments when the season hangs in the balance? You need dudes who can bang, switch, recover, and make life miserable.
What Kerr showed us isn’t just a lineup. It’s a philosophy. It’s a reminder that championships aren’t won with your most talented five players but your most effective five in that specific moment. Sometimes that means going big. Sometimes that means trusting guys the rest of the world has written off.
Butler, Kuminga, Green, and Horford have all been doubted. They’ve all been dismissed. And in the biggest moments against the defending Western Conference champions, they proved that championships aren’t about who has the cleanest narrative. They’re about who can execute when it matters.
The Warriors won 137-131 in overtime. The jumbo lineup was a microcosm of everything they’ll need to contend this season: versatile, physical, smart, and gritty enough to survive when the beautiful game turns ugly. Because here’s the truth: you can dazzle teams with your offense for 47 minutes, but if you can’t get a stop in the last minute, none of it matters. Golden State just showed you how they plan to get those stops.
