OKLAHOMA CITY -- Kevin Durant sat at his locker, leaned back in his chair, holding his phone with both hands responding to a flurry of text messages. He was waiting on Russell Westbrook to finish showering and dressing so the two could make their traditional journey to the podium together.
Durant waited, rocking back and forth, not saying a word. Westbrook was finally ready after straightening up his tiger-striped jacket and applying lip balm. They headed for a waiting golf cart and off they went to the interview room. They didn't say anything.
What were they going to say at the podium when they had to talk? What's the message after that, an agonizing 108-101 Game 6 loss?
"We've got another game to play. We're excited about that," Durant said in a tone that suggested he was trying to convince himself of it as much as everyone else. "We get another opportunity. And we can't hang our heads. We've got another game to play, so it's pretty high right now."
Westbrook, as he's wont to do, was more direct and to the point.
"Win or go home," he said. "Simple as that."
They were 12 minutes from the NBA Finals. They led by eight after three quarters and by seven with six minutes left. They had an arena of crazy people filling their sails, pushing them to the finish line. But it was too much Klay Thompson and just enough Stephen Curry.
It's almost hard to believe there's another game to be played, Game 7 in Oakland on Monday. Saturday night felt like Game 7, or at least the Thunder played as if it were. They fought tooth and nail, scraping for every inch. Their offense dried completely up, and they tried to finish the Warriors basically by hanging on for dear life. The Thunder made one basket in the final five minutes, an Andre Roberson putback. It was the old Thunder, with predictable, simplistic offense and no floor balance. It was the opposite of everything they had worked for this season under Billy Donovan as the offense imploded on one possession after another.
"I felt like we didn't do a great job coming down the stretch," Donovan said, "and I think we've made such great improvements coming down the stretch in terms of just on both offense and defense of doing a better job of executing and that really wasn't -- hasn't been us the last month and a half. I thought we got a little stagnant coming down the stretch."
The Thunder are built in a very clear way, leaning on Durant and Westbrook as their foundation in so many ways. Sometimes it's to a fault. Durant made only 10 of 31 shots in Game 6, with Westbrook making 10 of 27. In the past two games, the Thunder have lost the balance that made them so good this postseason. In Game 5, Durant and Westbrook attempted 59 of the team's 91 shots. In Game 6, 58 of 90. The Thunder's No. 3 scorer was Serge Ibaka, who had 13 -- only one point in the second half.
There's also the fact Durant and Westbrook are playing loads of minutes. Durant played 46 in Game 6, Westbrook 44. Donovan tried to sneak Westbrook a brief rest to start the fourth, but with the Warriors pushing, he went back to his point guard early. Donovan stopped Westbrook before he checked in and said, "If you need anything, if you need a blow, let me know." Westbrook nodded. But the chances of Westbrook asking for a rest were about as good as him wearing an undershirt with a mustard stain to the podium.
"Our team needs us on the floor," Durant said. "Us two on the floor, we give ourselves a great chance to win. So we've got to fight through it. It's late in the season. Everybody's going to play their best players around this time. If we've got to play 48, we've got to play 48. So we're going to give it our all. We've been doing that all season, and tonight was no different. Next game won't be any different as well."
That's the thing. The Thunder most definitely need Westbrook and Durant. They need them to pull through, to somehow find something in Oracle Arena on Monday night. The Thunder invested themselves both physically and emotionally into Game 6, expecting to advance to the Finals on Saturday night.
What do they have left? Can they get their minds right for another go at the Warriors?
The locker room was a quiet, uncomfortable place Saturday, with players talking in hushed tones, if they talked at all. But once they left, they started the grieving process and moved on.
Steven Adams walked down the hallway, carrying a bag full of a to-go order, and stopped before he reached the court. Thunder athletic trainer Tony Katzenmeier was holding his adorable toddler and Adams smiled, squeezing the boy's cheeks, saying, "Hey there, little man." Thunder players emerged one by one to the court, seeing friends and family. They talked. They laughed. They moved on. There was some spirit to them, because despite the feeling otherwise, they still have life.
They just have to convince themselves of that.