Wait… that Jalen Williams? The same one Shai Gilgeous-Alexander once called “one of the biggest reasons why we are here”? Yeah, well, Game 6 just put a brutal stain on that résumé. As the Thunder untangled in a 108-91 loss to the Pacers, Williams found himself etched into the wrong kind of NBA Finals history. Not for a game-winner nor for a poster dunk, but something even bigger! How?

By the end of the night, Jalen Williams had set the record for the lowest plus/minus in NBA Finals history: minus-40. Not in a blowout where the bench closed the gap. Not in garbage time. This was 27 minutes of full-throttle basketball, and it cleared up in real time. But it’s not just the stats that are concerning here.

It’s the story they are telling. Because if you peel back the layers, it gets messier by the minute. Williams had 16 points, sure, but went 6-of-13 from the field, missed all four of his threes, grabbed just three rebounds, and dished one lonely assist. And the three turnovers? Each felt like a momentum killer. Indiana feasted when he was on the floor, and by the time the fourth quarter hit, the damage was historic.

It’s a bummer for a player who’s been vital to OKC’s rise, and a reminder of how cruel these bright lights can be. Not because Williams is a fringe guy who flamed out, but because he’s been a legitimate engine in OKC’s turnaround. He’s been a rhythm-setter, a defender, a secondary creator. In the same postseason where he was praised for poise and versatility, Game 6 looked like a different player entirely as he struggled to find spacing, misread defensive assignments, and forced shots that fed right into Indiana’s pace. The Pacers, to their credit, swarmed him.

Aaron Nesmith and Ben Sheppard gave him no breathing room, and the help defense from Myles Turner kept him second-guessing every drive. Tyrese Haliburton bounced back from his calf injury with 14 points and 5 assists. Pascal Siakam chipped in 16, T.J. McConnell came in with 12, and Obi Toppin, with a team-high 20, anchored their interior dominance. So much for referee bias, no?

For the Thunder though, Shai Gilgeous-Alexander did what he could with 21 points and 4 rebounds, but the supporting cast simply collapsed. With Chet Holmgren limited (4 points) and Lu Dort ineffective, the burden fell to Jalen… and it crushed him. The plus/minus stat has its critics, but in this case, the eye test backed it up. Whenever Williams was on the floor, Indiana ran OKC out of their own rhythm. It was the timing of everything. His miscues often triggered transition buckets, while his hesitations killed flow on offense. When Mark Daigneault finally pulled him in the fourth, it felt overdue.

For a player as integral as Jalen Williams, the timing couldn’t be worse. With the Finals knotted at 3-3, everything now rides on Game 7. Redemption is possible, heck, it’s NBA tradition. But so is scrutiny. And Williams just earned himself a permanent place in the Finals history books, whether he likes it or not. Now, we move on.

What Jalen Williams’ Game 6 collapse means for OKC

Because Game 6 wasn’t just a statistical anomaly, people. It was a window into the fragile chemistry OKC’s been threading all year. Their youth has been their charm, but it also comes with volatility. Williams’ collapse exposed how thin the margin is for error. The Thunder thrive when everyone plays in sync. When one gear locks up, the machine jerks.

His struggles, however sarcastically, also point to Indiana’s growth. Rick Carlisle’s group evidently adjusted. Haliburton was assertive, Siakam brought muscle and versatility, and McConnell dominated the paint. Their defense focused on taking away driving lanes and making OKC live from the perimeter. The result? The Thunder looked disoriented. And good enough for the Pacers, they grabbed the win on their home floor!

Still, this series isn’t done. Game 7 is coming. And if NBA lore has taught us anything, it’s that stars are often formed in the fires of failure. For Williams, that’s the hope. That Thursday’s disaster becomes fuel. That the player SGA believed in reemerges when it matters most. Because right now, the record is ugly. But the story? It’s not over yet.