After a thorough beatdown of a hobbled Pacers squad on Thursday night, the Phoenix Suns sit at 8-5, riding a five-game heater with six wins in their last seven. They are playing the brand of basketball we were promised, the kind that pulls you in and keeps you there, and anyone who has watched them with any regularity can confirm that this run has felt good. It carries the same energy as the Roaring Twenties, a bright era when the whole country believed happy times would last forever. People danced,
spent money, smiled wide, and lived loud, and the whole thing floated on air.
Then the music cut out.
That is where my head lives. I’m not here to rain on anything. I’m not here to drag the mood into the gutter. My goal is to stay grounded. To stay realistic. The vibes might keep rolling. I hope they do. But I’m here to tap the brakes a bit and point out that the Suns are streaking and a big part of that comes from the level of competition they are seeing.
Do not mistake any of this for a lack of appreciation. This is fun. This is the good stuff. Covering this team feels enjoyable again. Watching them smack teams around, especially the teams they should dominate, scratches an itch that has been burning for two seasons. The fan base spent that time locked in a strange Civil War, everyone pointing fingers in every direction, everyone looking for the culprit behind a roster that refused to gel or compete or bury the teams they should have handled with ease.
Now the team looks locked in every night. Every quarter has intention. The natural lulls you expect in a basketball game show up, but they are short, they pass quickly, and the team snaps right back into shape. The ball is not sticking. The defense has heart. They are beating the opponents they should beat, and they are doing it on command.
And here is the part we cannot ignore. This stretch lives in the softer part of the schedule. The combined winning percentage of the Suns opponents through thirteen games is .355. Sure, the Suns contributed eight losses to that number, but the point remains that they are carving up teams that are either not good, significantly wounded, or versions of themselves that look like they misplaced their souls on the way into the arena.
That isn’t meant to dim the glow around Phoenix. They are beating the teams they should beat. That tells you a lot. It shows a team with focus. A team that refuses to get comfortable on the farm, if you will.
It serves as a reminder that the road ahead stretches far, with miles of rough terrain. The Suns hold the hardest remaining strength of schedule in the league. 67 games remain. The landscape will shift plenty of times before this thing settles.
So raise a glass behind the hidden doors of prohibition. Let the music shake the floor. Let your hips swing with the Charleston. Feel the moment. Enjoy it with the same wild energy the era invites. But keep in mind that the market can crash. The real evaluation begins when the opponents tighten up and the easy paths turn into mountain climbs. How this team responds in that environment will define the way we talk about them later.
