They say the air is different when confetti falls on the team that didn’t deserve it. Inside Paycom Center, purple and blue paper rained down like a cruel joke, as Oklahoma City paraded their historic banner and Indiana walked back to the locker room in stunned silence. No one felt the pain sharper than Tyrese Haliburton. And no one, perhaps, took it more to heart than Caitlin Clark.

Clark didn’t say a word publicly. She didn’t need to. Instead, she posted a photo of Haliburton to her Instagram story, tagged @Pacers, and added three purple hearts and four joined hands. No caption. Just quiet grief. The purple heart emoji, often used to honor those wounded in action, and the joined hands—a symbol of prayer—spoke volumes. The WNBA’s brightest rookie left speechless over the NBA star who had carried Indiana until his body gave out.

It all unraveled in a heartbeat—just five minutes into Game 7. Tyrese Haliburton, already battling a nagging calf strain, came out blazing: three deep threes, nine points, and a Gainbridge crowd roaring like they could will him through the pain. It felt like one of those nights where belief could rewrite destiny.

Then, with 4:55 left in the first, it stopped. Haliburton planted his foot to drive left, and his body betrayed him. He collapsed mid-stride, grabbing at his right leg before he even hit the hardwood. He didn’t get up. Tyrese was out for the game—and possibly for the year.

And while this was all going on, Jason Whitlock captured the moment with bitter clarity: “Fun while it lasted. Sad day for Indy hoops fans. Haliburton out for a year. Caitlin Clark has hit a serious rut.”

Just weeks earlier, Caitlin Clark had been something of a courtside good luck charm for Indiana. Now, while she struggles with her bad shooting form against the aces going 1-10 from the three-point line, the Pacers in their game 7 lost bitterly to the OKC 91- 103. 

Clark, Haliburton, and a season Indiana won’t forget

Yes, it was a tough day for Indiana hoops. No sugarcoating it. But what a ride it’s been.

This was the season basketball wrapped its arms around the state of Indiana and refused to let go. Clark was courtside when the Pacers beat the Bucks 123–115 in the East Semis, flashing a grin as she shared a moment with an official. She was there again when they steamrolled the Knicks 125–108 in the East Finals. The numbers didn’t lie: Indiana was 3–0 with her sitting front row. Whether it was luck or lightning, it felt real.

Caitlin even called into the Pacers’ postgame show as “Caitlin from Downtown,” giddy like a true fan. After their blowout of Cleveland in Game 2, she gushed, “The first half was probably the best offensive half I’ve ever seen in all of basketball.”

And Tyrese Haliburton? He showed up for her too—seated courtside during the Fever’s opener, embracing the moment as Clark embarked on her own WNBA journey. After the Pacers’ miraculous overtime win in Game 1, Clark tweeted, “PACERS ARE THE GREATEST COMEBACK TEAM I’VE EVER SEEN.” The connection wasn’t performative—it was genuine. Indiana basketball, from Gainbridge to Hinkle to high school gyms, had become a shared heartbeat.

In fact, the Haliburton-Clark connection resonated so deeply that it even drew a nod from Paul George. On his Podcast P show in May, the former Pacer reflected on the energy brewing in Indiana hoops:

“You know, we used to support Tamika Catchings,” George said. “Tamika’s a Hall of Famer, one of the best to ever do it. We’d buy tickets, pack the gym for her playoff games. It’s just different in Indiana, bro. The city lives for basketball.”

That love came alive again in Game 3 of the Finals. The Thunder started hot, going up 32–24 after one. But by the third quarter, the momentum shifted. With the score tied at 83, the camera panned—and there she was.

Clark, sitting beside Aliyah Boston and Natasha Howard, lit up the Jumbotron. The crowd exploded. It didn’t feel like a cheer. It felt like a charge.

She wasn’t alone either. Fever teammates Lexie Hull, Aari McDonald, Makayla Timpson, and Sophie Cunningham were in the house too, waving towels and screaming like they were one rotation away from checking in. “Get ’em, boys!” they posted on X, just as Haliburton sank a corner three.

The Pacers won that night. And for a few shining moments, it felt like the whole state was moving in rhythm—NBA and WNBA, rookies and veterans, city and team.

Game 7 may have ended in heartbreak, and Clark’s jumper might be off, but the season was something to hold onto. Not just because of wins and stats, but because of the story it told—of stars rising together, of crowds roaring in unison, of a basketball culture that bleeds blue and gold.

The chapter ends in pain. But Indiana isn’t done. Not by a long shot.