“I’ve had some pretty big moments in my life… but this one, I don’t know why, makes me nervous.” That was Kristin Chenoweth, the Tony and Emmy-award-winning star, speaking to the Associated Press just hours before taking the court. She wasn’t talking about a Broadway opening or a Hollywood premiere. She was talking about singing the national anthem at Game 7 of the NBA Finals. For a proud Oklahoma native and a die-hard Thunder fan, this wasn’t just another performance. This was personal. And when she finally stepped up to the mic, she delivered a rendition that was powerful, passionate, and, for a huge portion of the internet, completely and utterly baffling.

The choice of Chenoweth to sing the anthem was a no-brainer for the Thunder. She’s a hometown hero, an Oklahoma Hall of Fame inductee who grew up just down the road in Broken Arrow and attended Oklahoma City University. Her Thunder fandom is the stuff of legend. She once spent three hours bedazzling a team hat, her dog is named Thunder, and she told the AP, “I never miss a game unless I’m on stage.” So, when she walked out onto the court, dressed in a Thunder sweatshirt, you could feel the pride.

She poured all of that emotion into the performance. Her voice, classically trained soprano, soared through the arena. But it was one note that stopped everyone in their tracks. On the word “free,” Chenoweth held a long, loud, operatic high note with a heavy vibrato—a signature of her Broadway style. But as soon as it was over, the internet exploded. The reactions came in fast and furious—as one fan bluntly put it on X (formerly Twitter), “That was an INSANE ‘free’ by the National Anthem singer. Sounded like a turkey.”

It’s a harsh critique, but it perfectly captures why so many were caught off guard. In a moment that was supposed to unify a nervous arena, Chenoweth’s Broadway flair felt like a curveball, leaving fans very confused. And as the internet began to process what it had just heard, the takes started flying in from every angle.

Fans react to NBA Finals game 7 anthem

One of the most common reactions was a simple, brutal dismissal, like the fan who posted, “Oklahoma chick that’s singing the national anthem #youknowhat,” followed by a gif of a man cringing in secondhand embarrassment. This gets to the heart of the issue for many sports fans. While Chenoweth is an undeniable talent, her style felt completely out of place in a basketball arena. It’s the same trap many artists fall into, most famously Fergie at the 2018 NBA All-Star Game. Her slow, jazzy rendition was so stylistically jarring that it became an instant meme. Chenoweth’s performance, while different, prompted a similar reaction—a feeling that the style just didn’t match the setting.

That feeling quickly morphed into a kind of sports superstition for some fans, who seemed to think the performance was a bad omen for the home team. “OKC definitely gotta lose after having whoever just sung that national anthem,” another user declared. It’s a classic fan superstition, the idea that a cringe-worthy anthem can put bad juju on your team before the game even starts. After a performance this polarizing, you can bet that if the Thunder struggle, fans will be pointing to that final, operatic note as the moment the curse began.

Of course, some fans just thought it was flat-out bad, regardless of the style. “This is the worst National Anthem I ever heard,” another fan posted. This kind of reaction lumps Chenoweth in with a long history of anthem performers who, for one reason or another, just didn’t stick the landing. It’s a tough gig—the song is notoriously difficult, and the pressure is immense. It’s not just any game, it’s a Game 7. How often do you even get to see one? The last time we saw it was in 2016. And that sort of pressure has led to some infamous flameouts, like Carl Lewis’s voice-cracking, off-key disaster in 1993, a performance that is still a cautionary tale for anthem singers everywhere.

Perhaps the most hilarious, and oddly specific, reaction came from a fan who asked, “Did Charlie Wilson sing the national anthem for OKC this series?” For those who don’t know, Charlie Wilson is an R&B legend from Tulsa, Oklahoma, known for his powerful but often ad-lib-heavy vocal style. The comparison of course is a jab at Chenoweth’s over-the-top, vocally acrobatic finish. In a way, it was the perfect summary of the internet’s reaction: a mix of confusion, criticism, and a deep appreciation for the sheer, baffling audacity of it all.