NBANBASan Antonio’s rookie point guard is bursting out of his bench role in a way that should terrify the Timberwolves—and the rest of the NBAGetty Images/Ringer illustrationBy Rob MahoneyMay 13, 2:22 pm UTC • 4 min
The most terrifying teams are the ones that seem like they’re holding something back. The Warriors, at the height of their dynastic potency, made opponents earn the right to get obliterated by the Death Lineup. For years, LeBron’s teams spent every Game 1 feeling out all the ways they’d destroy the opposition … in Game 4 or 5. Restraint can be a weapon. It’s trying enough to deal with a heavyweight opponent in a seven-game slugfest, but certain foes make it even harder to focus on the here and now because of that implied threat—of the real, unsparing, no-holds-barred matchup that lurks just around the corner. Push a great team far enough, and you just might see it.
The San Antonio Spurs aren’t on the level of those sorts of basketball institutions, but it’s impossible to watch them in these playoffs without sensing the shadow version of the team burbling just beneath the surface. Sometimes it comes out when Victor Wembanyama’s reach exceeds his grasp, baffling as that concept might seem. Yet just as often, it seeps through in the gradual realization that San Antonio’s second-best player might be playing only half the game. Dylan Harper is becoming undeniable. Yes, he’s a rookie. Sure, he’s coming off the bench. But he regularly takes over playoff games that feature Wemby and Anthony Edwards and several other All-Stars besides, and he makes it look easy in a way that—for Minnesota and every other team in the league—should sound the loudest possible alarm.
Harper is San Antonio’s ace in the hole. The young Spurs are one win away from the Western Conference finals, and they’ve achieved that much without ever fully unleashing the no. 2 pick to anything close to his creative limit. And Harper is insanely talented—good in a blow-up-your-group-chat kind of way, obvious to anyone with eyes to see or even just ears to hear the awestruck shouting of those who do. On some possessions, however, Harper’s job is just to go stand in the corner—a luxury afforded by sharing a backcourt with both Stephon Castle and De’Aaron Fox. The Spurs haven’t made him any kind of formal priority, yet Harper has become a driving force in San Antonio’s postseason run all the same. He’s seized his moment, and the hand-to-hand combat of Minnesota’s formidable defense hasn’t been able to stop him from racking up more layups and dunks than any other player in the second round of the playoffs.
What Harper has, you can’t teach—and no one can really take away. He’s too shifty, too resourceful, too quick on his feet. You know he really has something going when Wemby, the most incomprehensible player in basketball, is as stupefied as he was by Harper’s drive and dunk through Ayo Dosunmu in Game 5:
That game was physically hard-fought, although you wouldn’t know it from watching Harper’s baskets. There was a pick-and-roll drive on which he went completely untouched. An easy putback from being in the right place at the right time. Another bucket off an offensive rebound, this time by tossing the smaller Mike Conley (who is almost twice Harper’s age) out of the way. And then a streaking layup in transition when Harper was, as is often the case, a step ahead.
If Mitch Johnson gave Harper the keys to San Antonio’s offense on Friday, the responsibility would surely change the way he plays. There’s a freedom that comes with being a rogue element; Castle and Fox often have to force the issue in ways that Harper doesn’t, which comes at an obvious cost to their efficiency and puts more pressure on their decision-making. Yet every part of Harper’s game threatens for something greater. There are already moments when he feels like a more substantial scoring threat than Fox, and he’s forcing Johnson into some difficult rotation decisions as a result. They won’t get any easier or any less frequent; Harper becoming a dominant player is more when than if. For now, he’s simply the most overqualified player left in the postseason field—and that’s exactly what makes the Spurs so dangerous.
Dylan Harper dunks against the Timberwolves during Game 5
Getty Images
Teams don’t win championships when every player is slotted into the perfect, form-fitting role. They win it all when they have a roster so talented that key players are ready for more. Matchups shift, series evolve, and there comes a time when the offense gets thrown out in favor of whatever works in the moment. The 2025 title may have swung on the fact that Aaron Wiggins could give the Thunder 18 points in a Finals game when the situation called for it. He’s not even in OKC’s rotation these days, but Wiggins is no less qualified; on the right day, he can still give the Thunder 18.
Harper takes that same concept and supercharges it with jet fuel. What if, for five minutes at a time, your sixth man could score like a superstar? What if your third guard could punish any defender that doesn’t give him their complete attention, even as a 7-foot-4 anomaly dives toward the rim? San Antonio may not be surgical in its execution just yet, but the Spurs have gotten this far by overwhelming teams—the Wolves included.
When Minnesota’s offense shifts away from Ant (as San Antonio’s double-teams encourage), the ball often winds up in the hands of Julius Randle, Jaden McDaniels, or Ayo Dosunmu, all of whom have taken on more responsibility for this team than they ideally should. There’s no give to an offense like that. There are no guardrails when Randle’s game teeters out of control or McDaniels gets into foul trouble. It’s a high-wire act every night out. Some contenders are held together by will and duct tape. Others are so rich with talent they have a world-beating guard just sitting there on the bench, waiting his turn despite the whole basketball universe knowing better.
Rob Mahoney
Rob covers the NBA and pop culture for The Ringer. He previously covered the league for Sports Illustrated.
