It's an amazing thing, the fact that a player who can score 40 points in three consecutive games, who can have a run of four straight triple-doubles end with a measly line of 43-8-7, who can produce an entire month that's unlike anything really ever seen before, can still have a swarm of critics nibbling on his heels, waiting to pounce on any failure.

Such is the ever polarizing roller-coaster ride that is Russell Westbrook.

Thursday's game against the Chicago Bulls is one of the many perfect microcosms of what keeps the Westbrook debate well fueled. His critics have become outnumbered over the years as most have come to the light, understanding he's a magnificent player, but one with a few remaining nagging flaws -- most of which should be forgiven.

But in crucial situations, as showcased in the 108-105 loss to the Bulls, Westbrook went rogue, eschewing trust for self-belief. It's the blatant blemish he can't shake -- critical crunch-time decisions gone wrong. Forget about the face-breaking raw numbers he had put up on the second night of a back-to-back. He didn't make the right play when it mattered, so everything else must not have, right?

The Thunder's final full possession is the most recent evidence. The Thunder ran a nice set, with a little misdirection screen-and-roll, as Enes Kanter faux screened with Serge Ibaka trailing him from the weakside to run a pick-and-pop. The Thunder got what they should've wanted. The Bulls flooded to Westbrook -- as you'd expect -- putting two on the ball. The simple play for Westbrook was to kick to Ibaka, who had floated to acres of open space in one of his jump-shooting sweet spots.

Westbrook saw him, but instead of making that pass and trusting Ibaka with the dagger, he hesitated, let the Bulls complete the switch to put Nikola Mirotic on him, and attacked on his own. Seconds later, a wild air ball and a shot-clock violation, setting up E'Twaun Moore's game winner.

"I should have passed it to Serge. That was a bad decision on my part. He was wide-open," Westbrook told reporters after the game.

That's a pass Westbrook makes to Ibaka in quarters 1 through 3. Heck, it's a pass he made to Ibaka just two minutes earlier, with Ibaka leaving a clean 15-footer short. But in that clutch-time moment, Westbrook couldn't help but shoulder the burden of responsibility.

The Westbrook detractors see this as an inherent selfishness, a desire for glory, a ball hog's mentality. What it really is, though, is a player whose remarkable competitive spirit sometimes clouds his vision. What makes Westbrook so great is his fearlessness, the nonstop motor that runs from tipoff to the final buzzer. That adrenaline pumps through him like gasoline, and when it comes to those critical possessions, he sometimes can't find the balance.

That's the Westbrook narrative, and Thursday's game only enhances it. Because a line of 43-8-7 might as well be 10-2-3 when it comes to critiquing him. The first 47 minutes don't matter. The brilliance, the breathtaking playmaking, the jaw-dropping athleticism, the relentless will -- all of that is just periphery because Westbrook didn't make that one pass on that one possession.

Thing is, Westbrook knows this. He admitted in Portland a week ago he should've passed more after a close loss to the Trail Blazers in which he shot 38 times. He said he needed to trust his teammates more. He's going to watch film and see the play with Ibaka and know he missed it. He's probably seen that same play 75 times already in his career. And each time, I'm sure he pledges to do it differently the next time around. But in that moment, when the game is on the line, when there's a hero needed, Westbrook wants the ball. He needs the ball.

With a healthy Kevin Durant, things are different. It helps regulate Westbrook, as he turns his focus to trying to set up his superstar teammate as best he can. When those actions fail -- as they often do -- the responsibility then falls on him to make a secondary play. And he often does. It's an ideal crunch-time dynamic, to have two all-world stars who trust each other and possess the ability to make something out of nothing when they have to.

On Thursday, though, with Durant out, Westbrook saw himself as flying solo. He got the Thunder to the edge of glory, so he felt the responsibility to finish it. Just 20 seconds before, he had hit a dagger-ific 22-foot jumper in Moore's face to put the Thunder up three. But when he had the chance to find the proper balance and defer a possession later, he opted to call his own number.

The hot, and incorrect, take here is to say this is why the Thunder won't ever win a championship. In reality, though, it's just the area where Westbrook still has room to grow. The guy who put up 43-8-7 and four straight triple-doubles can still be a little better. How's that for scary?