There is a lesson life eventually teaches, and some people learn it faster than others. No one feels sorry for you. The victim mentality, especially in sports, does nothing. The opponent does not care about your injury report. Their job is to beat you, and your job is to beat them.
Adversity has returned to the desert, and it has felt constant since the calendar flipped to 2026. Bodies keep dropping, and you could feel sorry for yourself if you like. The standard “we can’t have anything nice” or “typical Arizona sports” comments can be made in jest. But alas, crying in your beer isn’t productive. If you look at this from another angle, you’ll find that the injuries open the door for opportunity. And with it, evaluation. For as much fun this season has been relative to exceeding expectations, we must remember this was never a season built around a championship expectation. It was a retooling year. A year in which the franchise was amidst a pivot with a new direction in mind.
I think back to October, right before the season began, and revisit how I believed this year needed to be approached. The hope was that the team would be competitive. Would the promises Mat Ishbia and Brian Gregory spoke about in press conferences over the offseason show up on the floor? Success was never strictly about wins. It was about effort. That was the missing ingredient in the previous two versions of this team. Staying competitive regardless of the scoreboard mattered.
I also wanted to see real development from the young players. When you look at the Suns’ future draft capital, there is no wave of help coming. That means the back half of Devin Booker’s prime depends heavily on the decisions made in the last two drafts and how those players grow into real rotation pieces.
So the season opened with two sophomores and three rookies, and the assumption was that development would be gradual, sometimes uneven, but ultimately visible. The first third of the year felt like it needed to be about establishing culture, showing what Suns basketball is supposed to look and feel like, and letting that become the baseline for success. That alone would have meant something.
The middle third of the season figured to be the bridge. More minutes for the rookies. A clearer evaluation window for the sophomores. Enough repetition to separate flashes from habits. And then the final third, in my mind, had the Suns hovering around the Play-In bubble. With no first round pick to chase, it felt like the perfect stretch to give young players real floor time, meaningful minutes, and game reps that could accelerate growth without the weight of expectation crushing them.
But the season has not unfolded that way. The Suns surprised people. The culture showed up early, the style translated, and wins followed. That success shifted the original developmental timeline and quietly narrowed opportunities for the youth. Winning has a way of doing that.
Now injuries have taken control in Phoenix, and the team is drifting back toward that developmental path. Not by choice, but by necessity. With bodies disappearing and options shrinking, rotations are tightening and minutes are being redistributed in real time. The plan did not change because the vision failed. It changed because reality intervened.
This is the silver lining. The Suns are snugly positioned in seventh in the West, and the youth are receiving opportunities to play minutes that matter. Truly matter. These aren’t minutes at the back end of a season for a team with no aspirations of success. These minutes could sway seeding, carry tangible pressure, and offer the ideal opportunity to see what you have in terms of talent and how they respond in meaningful moments.
The door of opportunity is starting to open. Against Portland, Ryan Dunn got the start. Rasheer Fleming saw the floor in the first quarter, and Khaman Maluach opened the second. That is how quickly things are shifting. Now the evaluation becomes real. Who steps into the moment? Who recognizes it? Who shows growth relative to their current ability?
Nobody is asking these players to take over games or alter the trajectory of the season. The ask is simpler. Progress. Especially from the sophomores. The Suns do not have many youth options in the pipeline, which makes it critical that these players prove they can function as real rotation pieces.
This season has been unique because, no matter what has unfolded, it still feels like a version of the best-case scenario keeps finding its way to the surface. Grayson Allen and Royce O’Neale playing at the peak of their powers has quietly boosted their value heading into the offseason. Because the team has been competitive, there was no pressure to move them by the deadline. Best-case scenario.
At the same time, the roster has been good enough to create an environment where younger players earn minutes. No handing the youth the car keys without consequence. The competitiveness raised the bar. Injuries are never welcome, but they have opened the door for those younger players to actually get real minutes and real evaluation. The Suns can absorb a few losses without damaging their ceiling, and if that stretch accelerates development, it still fits the larger picture. Best-case scenario.
The only thing left to keep this in the best-case-scenario lane is seeing progression happen in real time, and that is where my concern lies. Oso Ighodaro, for all the good he has done, is showing a very real ceiling at the NBA level. That is not a criticism. He was the 40th overall pick, and the return has been reasonable for that slot.
Ryan Dunn is a different conversation.
Dunn continues to frustrate me because I am seeing regression in foundational areas. We knew shooting would be a weakness when he entered the league, and that trend has carried into year two. He shot 31.1% from three last season and is at 31.0% this year. That is unfortunate regression for someone whom you hoped would become a rotational, if not impactful, 3-and-D guy.
What is most frustrating is the defensive slippage. Defense and instincts were supposed to be his calling card. Right now, those instincts are betraying him. He is thinking instead of reacting, and it shows. Guards blow by him off the first step. Stronger forwards put a shoulder into him and win. With continued starts likely coming his way, Dunn has the most to prove. Because the more opportunities that stack with poor results, the wider the door opens for Rasheer Fleming to step through.
The pressure the Suns are going to face night after night is only going to increase, and this is where iron has a chance to sharpen iron. The process needs room to breathe. If every evaluation is made off a single game, it will drive everyone insane. Even on nights like Portland, when Ryan Dunn tested every ounce of patience available. Commitment to the process matters, especially when these minutes carry real weight in determining long-term viability.
The hope is that the best-case scenario continues to unfold. If regression from players like Dunn persists, tougher and more layered decisions will follow. This stretch needs to be used to see what is actually there. Growth is rarely linear, but neither is loyalty without progress. It is a delicate balance, and injuries have forced Phoenix into this evaluation window. Take it for what it is, observe carefully, and start shaping decisions based on what shows up on the floor.