As I sit here reflecting on last year's NBA championship run, I can't help but marvel at how the Denver Nuggets carved their path to basketball immortality. Having followed the league for over two decades, I've witnessed numerous championship journeys, but there was something particularly special about how this team operated. The Nuggets' triumph wasn't just about winning games—it was about perfect execution, strategic brilliance, and that magical chemistry that transforms good teams into legendary ones.
I remember watching Game 1 of the Finals against Miami and thinking how the Heat's early defensive adjustments nearly threw Denver off balance. Miami came out with that trademark defensive intensity, but what impressed me most was how the Nuggets adapted. That lead ballooned to as much as eight and had Miami searching for answers early, but Denver's composure never wavered. Nikola Jokić, in what I consider one of the most dominant playoff performances I've ever seen, simply took over without forcing anything. His basketball IQ is something I've rarely witnessed in my years covering the sport—he makes everyone around him better while putting up historic numbers himself. The way he controlled the tempo, especially when Miami tried to speed them up, was absolute poetry in motion.
What many casual observers might not appreciate is how Denver's regular season prepared them for this moment. They finished the regular season with 53 wins, but more importantly, they built their identity around that beautiful, fluid offense that became nearly impossible to stop in the playoffs. As someone who's analyzed basketball strategy for years, I've got to say Michael Malone's coaching was masterclass material. He recognized that against Miami's switching defense, they needed to exploit mismatches differently than they had against previous opponents. The adjustments they made between Games 1 and 2 were textbook perfect—increasing their ball movement, utilizing more off-ball screens, and trusting their role players in crucial moments.
The Jamal Murray redemption arc was particularly compelling to watch unfold. After missing two entire seasons with that devastating ACL injury, many doubted he could return to his bubble form. But watching him throughout the playoffs, especially in the Finals where he averaged 21.4 points and 10 assists, reminded me why I've always believed in his superstar potential. His partnership with Jokić reached levels of synergy that I'd argue rivals some of the greatest duos in NBA history. Their two-man game became so lethal that Miami eventually had to abandon their preferred defensive schemes entirely.
Game 4 in Miami stands out in my memory as the championship clincher, even though the series technically continued. The Nuggets were down by 10 in the third quarter, and the momentum had clearly shifted. But then something remarkable happened—their defense tightened, they started generating turnovers, and suddenly that eight-point lead Miami had built evaporated in what felt like seconds. Aaron Gordon's defensive versatility throughout that game was something special—he guarded every position from Jimmy Butler to Bam Adebayo at various points. As an analyst, I've always valued two-way players, and Gordon's transformation into that role was crucial to their success.
The clinching Game 5 back in Denver was exactly how championships should be won—on your home court, with your franchise player putting up a triple-double. Jokić finished with 28 points, 16 rebounds, and 13 assists, becoming only the second player in NBA history to lead both teams in all three categories in a Finals-clinching game. The statistical dominance was staggering, but what impressed me more was the emotional maturity his team displayed. When Miami made their inevitable fourth-quarter run, cutting what had been a 14-point lead down to just 5 with under three minutes remaining, Denver never panicked. They executed their sets, got quality shots, and ultimately secured the franchise's first championship.
Looking back, what made this championship particularly satisfying for me as a basketball purist was how it was achieved through fundamental basketball principles rather than superteam construction. The Nuggets drafted and developed their core, built through patience rather than quick fixes, and stayed true to their system even when injuries tested them. In today's era of player movement and manufactured contenders, Denver's organic growth model serves as a refreshing blueprint for sustainable success. Their victory wasn't just about hoisting the Larry O'Brien trophy—it was a validation of team-building done right, of culture over convenience, and of basketball intelligence over athleticism alone. This championship will be remembered not just for who won, but for how they won—with grace, intelligence, and that beautiful brand of basketball that reminds us why we fell in love with this game in the first place.