The Oklahoma City Thunder are NBA Champions. Let that marinate. After 46 years, a Finals drought longer than half the league’s fanbase has been alive is finally over. So you’d expect a wild locker room celebration, right? Think goggles, champagne wars, boom boxes, full-on “Malice at the Hydration Station.”

But nope. According to Rachel Nichols, things got… kinda tame. “They’re not old enough to drink,” Thunder GM Sam Presti told Nichols with a laugh, as players dabbed champagne more like cologne than victory juice.

And honestly? It tracks. The Thunder are so young they probably had to Google what a landline is before calling mom about the win. Their average age is just 25.6, making them the second youngest title team in league history, behind only the 1976-77 Portland Trail Blazers—back when shorts were shorter and fouls were just “good defense.”

Front and center in the locker room was, of course, Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, soaked in both champagne and glory. The MVP. The scoring champion. The Finals MVP. The face of a franchise that rebuilt through patience, picks, and quiet swagger.

This wasn’t just a victory dance—it was Shai’s Michael Jordan in ’91 moment. But instead of sobbing on the floor with a trophy, he stood surrounded by teammates yelling, hyping him up, and spraying bubbly like they were told to “be careful not to slip.”

Shai finished the series averaging 30.3 points, 5.6 assists, 4.6 rebounds, 1.9 steals, and 1.6 blocks. And he led Game 7 with 29 points and 12 assists, conducting the offense like he was running a Princeton seminar, not a Finals game.

The supporting cast around Shai looked like a snapshot of a dynasty in the making. Chet Holmgren was probably grinning like the rookie who just proved everyone wrong. Five blocks in Game 7? That’s not a box score—it’s a resume.

Jalen Williams? Emotionally, yelling, eyes wide. His Finals performance was the kind of stuff you’d expect from a third-year player with something to prove—and boy, did he.

Lu Dort? Maybe recording it all for the group chat. Or maybe just screaming into the void after spending an entire postseason locking up everyone from Ja Morant to Jamal Murray to Pascal Siakam. He earned this party more than anyone.

And as for jerseys? Half-hung. Finals patch showing. Floor? Soaked like it just lost to the ‘96 Bulls.

Dominant doesn’t even begin to cover it for the thunder

Let’s talk about how ridiculously good this Thunder team actually was.

They’re only the fourth team in NBA history to win 84 games in a single season (combined regular season and playoffs), joining the 2016 Warriors, 1996 Bulls, and 1997 Bulls. Not bad company, huh?

Their total point differential was +1,243, the largest ever recorded.  And their 11.8-point average margin of victory ranks fourth all time. Also? They blew teams out by 30+ points twelve times this year, and had two playoff wins by over 40. That’s like playing NBA 2K on Rookie with sliders turned all the way up.

The Thunder defense was so good it could’ve filed taxes for you and found extra deductions. During the regular season, they allowed 2.5 fewer points per 100 possessions than the second-best team—aka the Magic, who were trying hard.

In the playoffs? They dragged the Grizzlies and Nuggets into scoring slumps not seen since the late-2000s Pistons. And in the Finals, they held Indiana to just 91 points on 92 possessions in Game 7—without Haliburton for most of it, but still, that’s elite.

Oh, and their 10.7 steals per 100 possessions in the postseason? Highest for a non-first-round-exit team in 26 years. That’s old-school hand-checking mayhem right there.

This title isn’t just a ring—it’s the beginning of something scary. Think 2015 Warriors before KD. The Thunder didn’t buy this roster, they built it. Patiently. Like a model train set, if the train also blocked shots and hit logo threes. Presti has turned a rebuild into a rocket launch, and what makes it even wilder is that 23% of OKC’s minutes this season came from rookies or second-year players. Every other team in that category missed the playoffs—OKC won the damn thing.

That’s not development. That’s wizardry.

So yeah, the locker room celebration wasn’t full of cigar smoke and chaos. But that’s fitting. This isn’t a veteran team cashing in its chips. This is a squad that knows they’re just getting started.

They’ve got the MVP, they’ve got depth. They’ve got the best defense in the league. And they’ve got the kind of chemistry that even Rachel Nichols had to notice mid-champagne drizzle.

Raise a juice box for the champs—the Thunder have arrived.