We thought the Phoenix Suns had turned a corner coming out of the All-Star break. The start was shaky — they dropped three of their first five — but then things started to click. They put together a four-game winning streak, and over one stretch they took six of seven. It felt like they were finding something, like the version of the team we had been waiting on was finally showing up after a rough February.
And then it stopped. All at once, it felt like everything came back down to earth. Five straight
losses, the longest losing streak since last season. The momentum is gone, replaced by the same frustrations that had been lingering earlier in the year.
It is worth noting, though, that last year’s team had multiple losing streaks of five games or more, and that group was largely healthy. This version of the Suns is not. That context matters as we watch poor execution and questionable decisions continue to cost them games.
When the injury report dropped prior to Saturday’s game against the Bucks, there was a sense of helplessness that came with it. You look at the opponent, and Milwaukee is a team that is not exactly pushing for wins right now. It is a group that has openly leaned into shutting down Giannis Antetokounmpo and embracing the chaos that comes with that decision, and you think this might be an opportunity. Then you look at your own roster and reality sets in.
Half the team is in street clothes. Three of your five starters are unavailable. Multiple rotation players are out. At some point, it becomes less about strategy and more about survival. And we got the answer to the question that follows. How are you supposed to win like that? You are not.
That does not erase the frustration, especially when it comes to Devin Booker and late-game execution. That has been a theme during this losing streak, and it is not new. It has shown up at different points throughout his time in Phoenix. There are levels to being an All-Star. There are players who can elevate everything around them when the pressure rises, and there are players who carry you through the flow of a game but can waver when it tightens.
Booker has lived somewhere in between. He has had those moments where he takes over and lifts the team, and others where the consistency fades late. At the same time, he needs help. That part cannot be ignored. He is not without fault, but when the roster is this depleted, when the margin is this thin, asking one player to carry it all becomes unrealistic.
Injuries do not excuse everything, but they make winning feel a lot harder.
“We just want everyone back,” Suns head coach Jordan Ott said after the 108-105 loss to the Bucks on Saturday. “In a rhythm would be a blessing. We just want everyone back. Said it constantly. Tried to stay away from it the last couple of weeks. That’s what we’d like to do.”
And that is where the frustration lives, and you can feel it internally with this team as well. They are not healthy enough to win these games. They are healthy enough to compete, and that says something about the depth that has been built, but competing is not the same as finishing. Right now, it feels like the Suns are stuck in that in-between space. Not bad enough to fall apart, not whole enough to take the next step.
It feels like purgatory.
You can see where this is heading. The seventh seed is sitting there unless everything collapses, and the postseason is still out in front of them. So these final stretch of games become something else entirely. A waiting period. A place where frustration builds, even while knowing the version of the team on the floor is not the real version.
Because when this group is whole, it looks different. Dillon Brooks brings disruption and edge. Mark Williams changes the geometry of the floor. Grayson Allen and Royce O’Neale space everything out and punish defenses from the perimeter. That version of the Suns is not something teams are excited to see in a playoff series.
This version is different. This is a team leaning on depth, playing guys in roles they were not originally meant to carry, trying to survive until reinforcements arrive. And those reinforcements still feel a week or two away.
So yes, the frustration is real. At the same time, it is tied to a version of the team that is incomplete. We are analyzing something that is not whole, watching a group grind through a brutal stretch that includes five games in seven nights.
The goal now is simple. Get to the other side. And when they do, it might not be perfect, it might not be everything, but it will at least feel like the version of this team you can believe in again.
