The 2025 NBA Finals will be remembered not just for its intensity, not just for its drama, not just for the seven-game thrill ride it took to crown a champion—but for the heart, hustle, and heroics of a team many believed was still a year or two away from greatness. The Oklahoma City Thunder, led by the unwavering calm of Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, the versatile brilliance of Jalen Williams, the towering presence of Chet Holmgren, and the relentless motor of Alex Caruso, seized the moment under the brightest lights. In Game 7, on the road and against the defending champion Boston Celtics, the Thunder stormed to a 109–104 victory to capture the 2025 NBA championship title, etching their names in history and sparking celebrations across Oklahoma and beyond.
The narrative coming into the Finals centered on youth versus experience. The Celtics had been here before, headlined by Jayson Tatum and Jaylen Brown, and bolstered by the presence of Jrue Holiday, Kristaps Porzingis, and Derrick White. Boston, top seed in the East and widely considered the most complete team in the league, were on a mission to avenge last year’s Finals loss and validate the “Jay Squad” era. The Thunder, meanwhile, had taken the NBA by storm with their fluid style, deep roster, and defensive identity. But they weren’t supposed to win—at least not yet. That’s what made this run so extraordinary.
Game 7, played under the raucous banners of TD Garden, had all the trappings of a classic. From the opening tip, the tension was palpable. The Celtics jumped out to an early lead, riding the emotion of the crowd and the hot shooting of Tatum and Brown. By the end of the first quarter, Boston led 29–22. It looked like the moment might be too big for the Thunder. But then, Alex Caruso happened.
Often the unsung hero, Caruso brought more than just his signature headband and defensive grit to Game 7. He brought championship experience from his Lakers days, an unshakeable focus, and a refusal to back down. While Gilgeous-Alexander found his rhythm in the second quarter, weaving through the Celtics’ perimeter defense and drawing fouls with surgical precision, Caruso set the tone defensively—picking up full court, diving for loose balls, switching onto Tatum without flinching. His impact didn’t always show up in the box score, but the momentum turned every time he was on the floor. A steal and fast-break assist to Williams midway through the second quarter was the spark the Thunder needed. A corner three minutes later was the explosion.
At halftime, OKC trailed by just three points, 52–49. The Celtics were stunned. The Thunder weren’t going away. And more importantly, they weren’t rattled.
The third quarter was Gilgeous-Alexander’s masterpiece. In a span of just eight minutes, the All-NBA guard scored 14 points—off floaters, drives, and midrange daggers—each one chipping away at the Celtics’ confidence. Chet Holmgren, still rail-thin but fearless in the paint, battled Porzingis and Horford for every rebound. His shot-altering presence and ability to stretch the floor with his shooting made him a matchup nightmare. And then there was Jalen Williams, the swingman who emerged as the X-factor in the series, slicing through defenders and finishing with finesse.
By the end of the third, the Thunder had turned the tide. They led 81–78. And just as the fourth quarter began, with the championship hanging in the balance, it was once again Caruso who rose to the moment.
Boston made a push, as champions do. Tatum buried back-to-back threes to reclaim the lead. The crowd erupted. Brown added a fast-break dunk. But Caruso never blinked. He answered with a critical offensive rebound, resetting the possession that led to a Williams three. Then, with just under four minutes left and the Thunder clinging to a 98–96 lead, Caruso pulled off what may go down as the defining play of the Finals.
Jaylen Brown attacked the rim, looking to tie the game. Caruso rotated, perfectly timed, and took the charge. The whistle blew, and TD Garden fell silent. Brown fouled out. Thunder ball.
It wasn’t just the play. It was the symbolism. The gritty veteran doing the dirty work. The ultimate glue guy coming through in the clutch. The undrafted guard from Texas A\&M who once bounced around the G League, now stepping into the spotlight and altering the outcome of a championship game.
With under a minute to go and the Thunder up 105–104, Caruso delivered again. Gilgeous-Alexander drew a double team at the top of the key and swung the ball to the corner, where Caruso was waiting. He rose, released, and buried the three. 108–104. A dagger. A moment of triumph. One that capped off a 17-point, 5-assist, 3-steal performance that would have earned Finals MVP consideration on any other team.
But that honor went to Gilgeous-Alexander, and rightly so. The 26-year-old Canadian had carried the Thunder all season. He averaged 28.4 points, 6.2 assists, and 5.8 rebounds in the Finals, and delivered in every crunch-time moment. But his first gesture after the final buzzer wasn’t to celebrate—it was to hug Caruso.
“He’s a warrior,” Gilgeous-Alexander said postgame. “We don’t win this without him. Not just tonight. All year.”
The confetti fell. The Thunder lifted the trophy for the first time since the franchise relocated from Seattle. For a team that had come heartbreakingly close during the Kevin Durant–Russell Westbrook–James Harden era, this title carried generational significance. This wasn’t a superteam. This was a collective. A front office that drafted smart, developed patiently, and trusted the process. A head coach in Mark Daigneault who instilled belief. A roster that bought in from top to bottom.
Lu Dort played his role to perfection, locking down opposing scorers and making timely buckets. Holmgren, in his first full healthy season, looked every bit like the franchise cornerstone OKC hoped for when they drafted him. The bench, anchored by Isaiah Joe’s shooting and rookie phenom Nikola Topić’s playmaking, provided the depth needed to survive a grueling playoff run.
But beyond the stats and schemes, this was about identity. The Thunder, long the league’s youngest team, matured before our eyes. They learned to win ugly. They learned to silence road crowds. They learned that stars win games—but teams win titles.
The Celtics, gracious in defeat, acknowledged as much.
“They earned it,” Tatum said. “They were tougher. Smarter. Hungrier. We gave them everything we had. But they responded every time.”
Indeed, every run Boston made, OKC answered. Every burst of brilliance from Tatum or Brown was met with poise from SGA, or a steal from Caruso, or a put-back from Holmgren. The Thunder didn’t just survive Game 7. They owned it.
For Caruso, the championship was the culmination of years spent grinding, proving doubters wrong, and embracing the unglamorous parts of basketball. He didn’t light up the scoreboard. He didn’t dominate highlight reels. But his fingerprints were all over the Thunder’s championship DNA.
“I just try to do what it takes to win,” Caruso said after the game, voice cracking. “I’ve been blessed to be part of some great teams. But this one… this one’s special.”
Special, indeed. A team of rising stars. A veteran role player with heart. A coach who believed in them. A city that rallied behind them.
The Oklahoma City Thunder, 2025 NBA champions. It wasn’t supposed to happen. But they made it happen.
They dared to believe. And then they delivered.
