If you thought the Indiana Pacers’ luck peaked with Game 6’s blowout win, Game 7 had a brutal plot twist no screenwriter would dare touch. Just five minutes into the first quarter, Tyrese Haliburton—yes, the face, soul, and GPS of this Pacers run—hits the deck on a drive against Shai Gilgeous-Alexander. No contact, no foul, just one awkward plant, and boom, Haliburton collapsed like an NBA Live server during Finals week.

Tyrese had entered the night already hobbling from a nagging calf strain that had been haunting him since Game 5. But adrenaline? That man had it bottled. He drained three triples before most fans had even sat down, shooting 75% from deep and flexing the same confident stroke that made him Indiana’s basketball messiah. But then came the slip. The timeout. The silence. And the scene nobody wanted in Game 7—Tyrese Haliburton lying flat on the hardwood, pounding the floor in agony, tears falling faster than the Pacers’ early first-quarter offense.

Turns out, that fear wasn’t overblown. Tyrese’s father, John Haliburton, spoke to ESPN’s Lisa Salters and confirmed everyone’s worst nightmare—it’s an Achilles injury. Not “tightness,” not “precautionary,” not “day-to-day.” The A-word. The same dreaded fate that once stopped KD mid-Finals. For Tyrese, it’s the cruelest timing possible—on the biggest stage, in the biggest moment, with Indiana finally in reach of its first-ever title.

Still, there’s something that gives this story a small glimmer of humanity. According to Lisa Slater’s sideline report, Tyrese is in the locker room watching the game with his family—his dad, his mom, his brother—all there, rallying behind him. “He’s doing as well as he can be under the circumstances,” John told ESPN, which is about as good as you can feel when your Finals run ends not with a trophy, but a limp.

Pacers Try to Regroup, But It’s Not the Same without Tyrese

If you think that’s not hitting the team hard, just look at the stat sheet by the end of the third quarter. Haliburton’s Pacers teammates were trying everything short of summoning Reggie Miller. T.J. McConnell went full “Hoosiers” mode with 16 points on 66.7% shooting, basically the only one who didn’t get caught in the emotional fog. Meanwhile, Pascal Siakam had 13 on 44%, Nembhard chipped in 11, and Indiana tried its best to duct tape the offense back together with some hot glue and a prayer.

But it’s clear what was missing—Tyrese’s vision. His tempo. His ability to stretch defenses like elastic bands until someone popped open in the corner. Even in seven short minutes, he had a team-high 9 points and 3-of-4 from deep. That’s not just production—that’s leadership in a Game 7 furnace.

Over on the other side, OKC smelt blood and brought the full zoo. Shai Gilgeous-Alexander (22 PTS, 10 AST) looked like he was sculpting a Finals MVP case with every eurostep. Jalen Williams added 14, and Chet Holmgren quietly dropped 12 with a couple of blocks and some hard stares. And don’t even get us started on Alex Caruso, who turned into playoff Danny Green reincarnated, with 2 threes and a +11 impact.

But this isn’t about stats or matchups or who remembered to rotate on help defense. This moment will forever be remembered as Game 7 when Tyrese Haliburton’s body gave out before his will ever would. It’s Shakespearean. It’s tragic. It’s sports.

Yet somehow, even with a torn Achilles and tears in his eyes, Tyrese is still locked in. Still watching. Still cheering. Still leading. That locker room presence? That’s the kind of stuff that gets a player a statue, not just numbers.

For now, Indiana has 12 more minutes to make history. Whether it ends with confetti or heartbreak, this team has already earned its respect. And Tyrese Haliburton? He earned a whole damn city’s love, Achilles or not.