“I think that who you are in the regular season, that’s who you are in the playoffs,” said Nikola Jokic over the weekend. He wasn’t saying this after a win; far from it. His Denver Nuggets had just lost to the bottom-dwelling Washington Wizards, at home, 126-123. The night before, Denver had just barely put in enough effort to beat a Los Angeles Lakers team missing four starters, 131-126. The Nuggets are in third place in a brutal Western Conference, and on a 51-win pace, but their three-time MVP is not impressed.

“I think that doesn’t really exist, that kind of thing, that you can just flip a switch,” he continued, somberly. Historically speaking, he’s right. Big, glitzy talents are often given a longer leash by fans, expected to contend for titles regardless of how locked in they are through late Fall and all of Winter. Spring, and especially early summer, the star-loving heart insists, is when the big boys come to play; do not get lost in the woods of Fraudulent February or Mickey Mouse March. Save your juices for Ascendant April, and Mighty May.

Historically speaking, people feel this way, but as Jokic tells them, they’re fooling themselves. The Phil Jackson rule is a reliable one for sussing out real title potential: you’ve got to win 40 games before you lose 20. In the modern postseason format, 90 percent of champions have met this description. Showing up every day and putting in excellent work, no matter the broader circumstances, is what a champion does. A non-champion can become one—can be loaded with the right talent, the right vision—but until they’re exhibiting this season-long intensity, you can usually exclude them from the final stage.

By some more generous, slightly more reliable standards, the Nuggets are still in the mix. A 50-win pace (“pace” being a keyword here, because of the handful of shortened seasons in the modern era, be they from pandemic or labor conflict) is a threshold all champions must surpass. There hasn’t been an exception since 1995, when the 47-win Houston Rockets repeated as champs despite a season of turmoil for their roster—a trade deadline acquisition of Clyde Drexler was key there, fundamentally changing the team, warping expectations by putting two Hall of Famers together in a hurry.

This year’s Lakers have done something similar by suddenly making LeBron James and Luka Doncic teammates. They could stumble all the way down into the play-in bracket if their current and wide-ranging injuries persist, and the whole world will still stay ready to see big things from them in the playoffs, should they enter them healthy. Theirs is a duo unusually equipped to challenge historical norms, as anyone who’s watched the 11 James-and-Doncic games could tell you. The two have an instant alchemy, transforming the competitive physics of the basketball court in ways we simply haven’t seen yet, even though one of them is 40 years old and the other is playing himself back into shape. Genius transcends, especially when you double it.

Otherwise, the tier-one contenders—those following the Jackson rule—are the trio of the Cleveland Cavaliers, Oklahoma City Thunder, and the Boston Celtics. Into tier-two go the Nuggets, Houston Rockets, Memphis Grizzlies, and New York Knick; this season’s likely 50-game winners. There are ample other “dark horse” outfits to be tantalized by, however. The Minnesota Timberwolves, winners of seven straight, are coming on at the right time. The Milwaukee Bucks, despite all their flaws, have Giannis Antetokounmpo, who hasn’t had a real playoff run since 2022, and never one with Damian Lillard before. The Golden State Warriors, like this year’s Lakers and the Rockets of yore, have added a generational wing to their lineup mid-season, and look pretty scary themselves.

In a more parity-driven NBA, it would seem more probable that one of those lesser regular season teams could cut through the field. The Nuggets, Warriors, Bucks, and Lakers have all won the big one in the past half-decade, too, so their believers can all say that their team’s case to shake precedent is particularly strong. If any of these fame-laden teams were to make such a tremendous splash, it would be quite the stimulant to the sport, and maybe—just maybe—suggest the ushering in of a newer, more chaotic era, where the old standards don’t tell us as much as they used to, and may need to be reconsidered.

But… probably not. Basketball is still basketball, and this league’s version of it gives teams 82 games to calibrate themselves before the sport’s legacy-defining annual tourney. Those who succeed there will, in all likelihood, always be those who look correct on every level early into those 82, and stay that way until the end of them. Jokic knows his Nuggets have faced peril too often, and the Warriors, Bucks, and Lakers probably understand, too, that this doesn’t feel like it did a few years ago, when their path to the top was so straight and so steady. Right now, they all wish they were the Cavs, the Celtics, or the Thunder. Not the dark horse, trying to race out of the shadows, but one of the bright ones, already deep into the light.