Bill Simmons posed the question on his podcast, half joking, half serious: Have the Oklahoma City Thunder officially become the villains of the NBA?
Then he laid out the case on his podcast.
“Have the Thunder officially become villains? Did this happen? Are we here?”
“I’ll give you some of the case, and then you tell me. All the picks that they have. The fact that they’re successful but then have this war chest too.”
“Sam Presti. How everybody else in the league now is mad at Sam Presti for a variety of reasons, including that he’s now anti-tanking when he used to be pro-tanking.”
“All the foul baiting, especially from SGA. That’s become a thing this year. The boring commercials. Just bad commercials starring the OKC people. I don’t think people like that. Stole the team from Seattle has to be mentioned.”
“And then the coup de grace, Lu Dort. That was the dirtiest thing anyone did this year. It was inexcusable. I can’t believe he did it. They kind of need an identity, right? Remember last year we were like, how do we talk about these guys? They just play hard. They all like each other. They’re leaning into their inner villain now, which I like.”
Oklahoma City owns at least 11 first-round picks over the next six years. It is one of the most powerful asset portfolios in the NBA. At the same time, they are the best team in basketball and the defending champions. That combination unsettles people. Contenders are not supposed to have this kind of future control.
Their GM, Sam Presti, is at the center of it. League executives respected the rebuild when the Thunder went 22–50 in 2020–21 and 24–58 in 2021–22. Now that same front office is reportedly nudging other organizations about competitive integrity when draft positioning affects Oklahoma City’s incoming picks. The Utah Jazz situation only sharpens that tension. When leverage shifts, perception shifts with it.
Then comes the on-court narrative.
On the court, Shai Gilgeous Alexander’s ascension to MVP and Finals MVP has come with stylistic debates that further polarize opinion. His ability to manipulate defenders, initiate contact, and draw fouls at elite rates has become a talking point across broadcasts and social media, with critics arguing that Oklahoma City benefits from a favorable whistle in high-leverage moments
Oklahoma City defends with intensity. Lu Dort, in particular, plays on the line. When Dort tripped Nikola Jokic in a nationally televised game and was ejected, it became a defining moment. Many labeled it the dirtiest play of the season. For critics, that was the turning point.
Simmons even joked about the Thunder’s bland commercials, suggesting their off-court presence lacks charm. That detail may be minor, but villains rarely win style points.
The bigger issue is power.
The Thunder are young, their stars are young, and even their depth pieces are still developing. They are positioned not just to contend, but to build a dynasty. That reality makes other fan bases uneasy. Villains in the NBA are rarely born from scandal alone; more often, they emerge from sustained dominance.
The Miami Heat embraced that role when they started stacking wins and championships. The Golden State Warriors became the league’s antagonist when their brilliance turned into inevitability, and opponents felt overwhelmed before games even tipped off. Those teams stopped worrying about approval and leaned fully into the only currency that truly matters in this league, which is winning.
Last season, the Thunder were difficult to categorize because they were talented yet unproven, cohesive yet still developing an identity. This season, that identity is sharper and more unapologetic, and whether embraced or resisted, the rest of the league is beginning to respond accordingly.
