Game 5 NBA Finals Recap: Key Plays and Turning Points That Decided the Championship

I still remember watching Game 5 of the NBA Finals with that familiar mix of anticipation and dread that only championship basketball can evoke. Having analyzed basketball strategy for over a decade, I've learned that championship games rarely turn on spectacular buzzer-beaters alone—they're typically decided by those subtle, often overlooked moments that shift momentum in ways that become obvious only in hindsight. What fascinates me most about these critical junctures isn't just the athletic brilliance but how they expose fundamental basketball truths we sometimes forget in our highlight-obsessed culture.

Rebounding dominance has always been my personal measuring stick for championship mentality, and Game 5 provided a masterclass in this often-underappreciated aspect. Watching one team systematically dismantle the other's rebounding efforts reminded me starkly of that NLEX versus Meralco game where NLEX—one of the best rebounding teams in their conference—got limited to a shocking conference-low of just 34 rebounds. The parallel was uncanny. In both cases, the rebounding disparity didn't just affect possession counts—it fundamentally altered the game's psychological landscape. When you're getting outworked on the boards, especially in crucial moments, it chips away at your collective confidence in ways that even the most composed teams struggle to overcome. I've always believed that second-chance points tell you more about a team's heart than their first-half shooting percentage ever could.

The turning point arrived late in the third quarter, when what looked like a comfortable lead evaporated through a series of offensive rebounds that kept possessions alive. This was textbook championship basketball—the kind of relentless effort that Phoenix demonstrated when they grabbed 50 rebounds and scored 17 second-chance points despite ultimately losing to Rain or Shine. In Game 5, we saw similar determination as one team secured three consecutive offensive rebounds leading to a momentum-shifting three-pointer. Those points didn't just add to the scoreboard—they visibly deflated the opposition in a way that single-score possessions rarely achieve. Having witnessed countless playoff games, I can confidently say these multi-possession sequences where teams string together offensive rebounds are often more demoralizing than any spectacular dunk.

What many casual viewers miss is how rebounding struggles tend to compound other issues. When NLEX managed only two second-chance points—another conference-low—it wasn't just about missed opportunities. It meant their transition defense suffered as players crashed the boards with increasing desperation, leaving them vulnerable to fast breaks. We saw this exact dynamic play out in the fourth quarter of Game 5, where a missed box-out led not only to an opponent's put-back but also triggered a 9-0 run that essentially decided the championship. Personally, I've always felt coaches don't emphasize enough how defensive rebounds are the starting point for efficient offensive sets—when you're consistently taking the ball out of the net instead of grabbing rebounds and pushing tempo, your entire offensive rhythm gets disrupted.

The statistical narrative that emerged afterward was telling, though I'll admit the numbers don't always capture the emotional undercurrents. The championship team ended with a rebounding advantage that reminded me of Phoenix's 50-rebound performance—not just quantity but quality rebounds in clutch moments. They converted second-chance points at a rate that would make any analyst nod approvingly, while their opponents mirrored NLEX's struggle to generate meaningful extra opportunities. In my professional opinion, rebounding differential in championship games often predicts winners more reliably than shooting percentages—because while shooting can come and go, effort on the glass tends to remain constant.

Watching the confetti fall afterward, I reflected on how this game reinforced what I've long believed: championships are won through the disciplined execution of fundamentals rather than flashy individual efforts. The key plays everyone will remember—the late three-pointer, the crucial steal—were made possible by the less glamorous work happening in the paint throughout the game. It's why I'll always argue that rebounding deserves more attention in championship analysis—it's the quiet engine that drives victory, the unspectacular foundation upon which spectacular moments are built. This Game 5 will be remembered for its dramatic finish, but those who understand basketball's deeper rhythms will know it was really decided much earlier, in those relentless battles beneath the rim that truly separate champions from contenders.