When Russell Westbrook peeled off his jersey and tossed it to a fan postgame, he probably expected a thank you and a selfie request—not to go viral for his abs. But the moment had layers. The internet clocked in with its usual chaos, but the best reaction came straight from home court: his wife, Nina Westbrook, who saw the clip and couldn’t believe her eyes.

“I’m like, WTF… It’s so weird to me that he looks like that,” Nina said on a recent podcast, capturing the kind of genuine, stunned energy only a longtime spouse can deliver.

It didn’t come from a trainer or a teammate—it came from the one person who sees him without the jersey daily. It was less “basketball wife” and more “who is this 36-year-old tank of a man?” And honestly, she wasn’t alone. Social media went off. Because Westbrook, seventeen years deep into his NBA career, looked like he just left Creed 4 set training.

What Nina (and everyone else) saw wasn’t a happy accident. It’s the product of a quiet but calculated transformation Westbrook started back in 2023. He cut about 20 pounds—dropping from 220 to around 200—to extend his career and maintain his iconic burst.

Gone were the heavy lifts and bulk. In came HIIT sessions, sand dune sprints, strength circuits, and basketball-specific drills—designed for mobility, speed, and longevity. His eating habits followed suit: lean proteins, whole grains, tons of vegetables, and a hard cut on the processed stuff.

It’s not Instagram fitness—there’s no “Russ getting shots up with an NFL trainer in a warehouse” montage here. This is veteran work, lowkey and relentless. His teammates call it “secretive,” but the results are louder than any mixtape.

But just as Nina was processing her shock, fans back home were going through their own emotional rollercoaster.

From Cheers to Boos: The Shifting OKC Atmosphere

Ah, Game 1—where Westbrook was the prodigal son, strolling back into OKC like it was his kingdom. Fans went wild when he checked in—standing ovation, MVP chants, the whole nostalgic nine yards. It was like the good ol’ days when Russell Westbrook was the one-man show, dropping triple-doubles and giving the city everything he had. The crowd treated him like royalty, honoring the dude who made them believe in the impossible.

But then Game 2 came around, and let me tell you, the energy flipped faster than a Westbrook fast break. The Thunder weren’t here for nostalgia anymore. No more “Russ was the man” vibes. They were locked in playoff mode. As soon as Russ hit the floor, the cheers went from loud to kinda faint, and by the time he made a few key plays, those faint boos turned into full-blown playoff hostility.

And then? Oh, it got spicy. Westbrook, still in full “I’m here to win” mode, stepped up to defend Jokic after Jaylin Williams fouled him. What did Russ get for his troubles? A technical foul for yelling at Williams, and naturally, the crowd didn’t miss a beat—they turned on him like any other playoff opponent. The boos rained down, and just like that, the hero turned into the villain.

By now, the same crowd that once idolized him was fully in playoff mode—treating Russell Westbrook like any other threat to their team’s success.

The switch from cheers to boos was jarring, but not surprising. Game 1 was all about nostalgia, while Game 2 was all business. Fans were focused on the team’s playoff push, and anything—even a corner three from Westbrook—became a threat.

Nikola Jokic, when asked about the boos, shrugged it off: “That’s their problem. I really don’t know what to say.”

This wasn’t about Westbrook—it was about the playoff intensity, where competition and emotions run high. Fans may have shifted from admiration to animosity, but respect for Westbrook’s legacy in OKC will always remain.

Despite the Game 2 boos, Westbrook’s legacy in OKC is secure. As Shai Gilgeous-Alexander said, his Game 1 reception was well-earned. While playoff emotions can be fleeting, respect for his contributions to the franchise is lasting.

Westbrook’s transformation, though, is a reminder that he’s always evolving and still a force, no matter how many years pass.