OKLAHOMA CITY — JJ Redick's words lingered like a waft of Baccarat Rouge 540.
"We were connected in intent and spirit," the Lakers coach said, and for once, it wasn't just coachspeak.
It was a confession. A revelation. A blueprint.
In a deafening arena where the Thunder's thunderclaps usually reign, the Lakers didn't just flip a switch on Sunday—they rewired the circuit.
They outclassed, out-hustled, out-defended, and outplayed the NBA's best team, 126-99, in a performance so surgical it felt like a warning etched in neon: The playoffs are coming. So are we.
Defense has been so foreign to these Lakers lately that it could be Sanskrit. Yet there they were, swarming Shai Gilgeous-Alexander like gnats to a lantern, helping, hedging, and rotating with a precision that turned OKC's brilliance into blunders.
Gilgeous-Alexander scored 26 points, but each bucket felt like a boulder pushed uphill. The Thunder, held under 100 points for the first time since November 15th, shot 32% from deep. The league's free-throw king, Gilgeous-Alexander, didn't attempt a single one—a feat as rare as a solar eclipse.
"The defense," Luka Dončić said simply when asked about the difference. Two words, laden with weeks of doubt, now buoyant with belief.
But this wasn't just defense. This was connection and cohesion. The Lakers, long maligned for paint-pounding monotony, morphed into a three-point typhoon. Twenty-two triples—tying a franchise record—rained down like confetti at a parade they weren't invited to.
Austin Reaves splashed six en route to 20 points. Dončić danced around screens for stepback threes, scoring 30 points.
The Thunder, owners of the NBA's best record, crumbled under the onslaught. A second-quarter 18-2 run—Lakers' defense igniting transition, transition fueling threes—turned Paycom Center into a library.
L.A. led 78-56 by halftime, with 15 threes already buried. The crowd's roar? Reduced to a whimper.
Los Angeles trounced Oklahoma City in every meaningful stat. They rebounded ruthlessly, out-rebounding the Thunder 43-34 boards, powering to 10 second-chance points—muscle over myth.
The Lakers exercised the ghosts of lethargy, if only for a game. The specters of inconsistency—banished. The Lakers, so often a jukebox of disjointed talent, played like a band finally in tune.
"We know it's the final stretch," LeBron James said, his tone part promise, part threat.
And yet, the skepticism lingers. Can this be sustained? But Sunday wasn't about sustainability. It was about possibility. About a team peering into the playoff abyss and deciding, abruptly, to soar.
Redick's "intent and spirit" weren't abstract.
They were tangible—in Dorian Finney-Smith's closing-out closeouts, in Vincent's pesky hands, in Bronny James' garbage-time three, a cherry atop a dominance sundae.
One truth crystallized as the Lakers remain in OKC to face the Thunder again: They're a contagion when connected.
The Thunder, now nursing back-to-back losses for only the second time all season, are merely Patient Zero.
The playoffs are around the corner, and the Lakers' switch? Flipped. The time? Now.
Los Angeles planted seeds for the playoffs long before now, but the harvest is ripe, and Sunday was just the beginning.