Watching the Suns and Bucks battle it out in the 2021 NBA Finals, I couldn’t help but feel like I was witnessing more than just a championship series—this felt like a turning point for both franchises. As someone who’s studied team-building in the league for years, I’ve seen how a single playoff run can redefine an organization’s trajectory. For Phoenix, it’s about validating their patient rebuild around Devin Booker and Deandre Ayton. For Milwaukee, it’s the ultimate test of the Giannis Antetokounmpo era. But beyond the obvious storylines, there’s something deeper at play here—something about accountability, leadership, and how the league itself might evolve because of moments like these.
I remember sitting courtside during Game 4 when Monty Williams got hit with that technical. The frustration on his face was palpable, and honestly, I thought to myself, "This is where the system fails coaches who are genuinely fighting for their guys." Chris Paul said it best after the game: "If there’s a wrong call and your coach is out there fighting for you, then at least consider allowing him to come back to help his team win." That quote stuck with me because it speaks to a broader issue—one that could shape how both these teams approach crunch time in future playoff runs. The Suns, with their disciplined half-court sets, rely heavily on Williams’ steady presence. The Bucks, under Mike Budenholzer, thrive on adjustments. But what happens when a coach gets tossed in a critical game because he’s standing up for a missed call? We’re talking about a potential 5- to 10-point swing, maybe even a Finals game—and those moments linger.
Let’s talk about the Suns first. Before this run, they hadn’t made the playoffs in over a decade. Their core—Booker, Ayton, and Mikal Bridges—averaged just 24 years of age coming into the season. Booker, in particular, has silenced critics by elevating his playoff scoring to 27.3 points per game. But here’s the thing: Phoenix’s window isn’t just open because of talent. It’s open because they’ve built a culture where players trust the process, and where a coach like Monty Williams can advocate for them without fear. If the league takes Paul’s suggestion seriously—maybe by introducing a "coach’s challenge reinstatement" rule—teams like Phoenix could benefit enormously. Imagine a scenario where Williams, who’s been ejected, is allowed back after a successful challenge. That’s not just a tactical advantage; it’s a morale boost that could keep their title window open for another 3-4 years.
On the other side, Milwaukee’s future hinges almost entirely on Giannis. He’s a two-time MVP, but until this Finals run, there were whispers about his ability to deliver in the playoffs. Well, he’s put those to rest—averaging 32.2 points and 13.0 rebounds in the series. Still, the Bucks’ front office has to be thinking long-term. If Giannis sees Budenholzer getting ejected in a close game because of a controversial foul call, does that affect his confidence in the organization? I’ve spoken to scouts who believe Giannis is more likely to stay if he feels the league—and his team—has his back. Paul’s comments about coaches fighting for players resonate here too. If the NBA adopts a more flexible approach to technical fouls, it could reassure superstars like Giannis that their voices matter. And let’s be real: keeping him in Milwaukee is worth every penny of that $228 million supermax extension.
From a league-wide perspective, this Finals could be a catalyst for change. The NBA has always been progressive with rule adjustments—think the introduction of the play-in tournament or the coach’s challenge itself. But Paul’s idea isn’t just about fairness; it’s about preserving the integrity of the game. I’ve seen stats that show coaches get ejected in roughly 12% of playoff games, often in high-stakes moments. If the Suns or Bucks lose a Finals game because their coach is sitting in the locker room over a debatable call, that’s a legacy-altering outcome. Personally, I’d love to see the league experiment with a "second-chance" technical rule in the G League next season. It’s a low-risk way to test whether bringing a coach back could improve game flow and reduce frustration.
Looking ahead, the ripple effects of this series will be felt for years. If the Suns win, it validates their model of building through the draft and strategic trades—like the Chris Paul deal, which cost them Kelly Oubre Jr. and a 2022 first-round pick. If the Bucks take the title, it reinforces small-market teams’ ability to retain generational talent. But beyond trophies and parades, this matchup might just push the NBA to rethink how it handles in-game disputes. As a fan, I want to see coaches fight for their players. As an analyst, I want those fights to matter without costing games. The Suns and Bucks aren’t just playing for a ring; they’re shaping the next era of NBA basketball—one where accountability on the court could extend to the league office itself. And honestly, that’s a future I’m excited to watch unfold.