Even when Nikola Jokic’s message gets lost in translation — and it does — the gesticulation is hard to misinterpret.
“When he is yelling things,” Christian Braun said, laughing, “a lot of times, it is hard to understand.”
That thick Balkan accent is usually fixated on the next schematic adjustment. But that tone is urgent, the pantomime act more profound than the tweak in back-side spacing he wants on his next post-up.
The prevailing image of Jokic for the last six weeks has been that of his demonstrative countenance, his passionate gesturing on the sideline. An image antithetical to 10 years of carefully assembled public perception. Intensity, not indifference. Outspokenness, not deference. Boisterousness, not boredom.
“With the way he speaks,” interim coach David Adelman said recently, “he’s trying to get his point across not just with his voice, but being expressive and (showing) how much it means to him.”
The Nuggets need every ounce of Jokic’s heart and every decibel of his voice to pull off the improbable.
Under new leadership in their huddles since April 9, they have pushed a record-breaking opponent to the edge of elimination, threatening to end the Thunder’s season way ahead of schedule on Sunday (1:30 p.m. MT). The amplified volume of Jokic’s voice has played a major role in this bumpy road to Game 7, which began anew in the last week of the regular season after Denver fired head coach Michael Malone and general manager Calvin Booth.
Adelman took over with a priority that transcended tactics. He hoped to improve “the overall vibe.” The result of his own cultural reset has ironically been a narrative that he’s not in control, that Jokic is now coaching the Nuggets on top of everything else.
It’s a reductive portrayal at best. Adelman doesn’t mind. “Whatever people want to say,” he said early in this heater of a second-round series.
“More of it please,” he went on to say, eyes gleaming. “Not a bunch of guys going and sitting on the bench, waiting for me to tell them something. Talk to each other. We can figure it out as a group.”
Even if Jokic’s authority is exaggerated, his willingness to speak up is visibly magnified. Teammates and coaches vouch for the difference, even if Jokic has rolled his eyes at it when prompted during a recent TNT interview.
One of the more memorable sequences of footage from Netflix’s “Court of Gold,” which documented the men’s basketball tournament at the 2024 Paris Olympics, captured Jokic in a halftime locker room, imploring his Serbian teammates not to help off of Kevin Durant during a game against Team USA.
It was an authentic illustration of the MVP center’s leadership capability — and an accurate reflection of how he has administered Denver’s timeouts when Adelman has given him space to cook. It’s a bohemian style of coaching, one that requires a delicate balance between ceding and commanding the floor at the right times. Adelman has been around in Denver as a coveted assistant long enough to pull it off.
“When I see something, I can just text him and ask him a question, what he thinks about it,” Jokic said Thursday after Denver’s Game 6 win. “I think we have a great communication and relationship. He’s been good.”
If empowerment is what Jokic needed to grow more comfortable with his voice, then his on-the-job training has been provided by one of Adelman’s most notable tactical decisions. The Nuggets have increasingly relied on using a zone defense throughout this series to challenge Thunder star Shai Gilgeous-Alexander as a driver. The zone has taken various forms. But at its simplest, Jokic has been tasked with playing quarterback for the two defenders up top.
“Bigs are always in charge of communication. The zone is a whole other level of communication,” Adelman said. “I don’t think people realize — like, watching Bam (Adebayo) in Miami — the responsibility of not being part of the actual play that’s going on. You are the person that’s kicking people left and right.”
“He’s calling all the shots on defense. He’s our captain,” Peyton Watson said. “We look to him to know where guys are at, even when we can’t seem them.”
This team’s brinksmanship is becoming legendary in Denver, or notorious, depending on who you ask. That character trait has been especially distinct this year. But Jokic has always quietly coveted these moments. The last three NBA teams to play a Game 7 in the first two rounds of a single postseason: the 2019 Nuggets, the 2020 Nuggets and now the 2025 Nuggets.
Jokic has never played a Game 7 in a true road environment, though. The sterile backdrop of the bubble is best forgotten. Oklahoma City will be deafening.
Nor has he faced a 68-win team and a likely MVP on this stage. That Denver stretched the series this far, with shoulders and hamstrings ablaze with pain, is already an accomplishment. Adelman’s folksy execution of the vibe restoration has himself as a compelling candidate for the full-time coaching gig.
To surpass moral victory and achieve immortality in Oklahoma, Jokic might have to reach even deeper and speak even louder.
Want more Nuggets news? Sign up for the Nuggets Insider to get all our NBA analysis.