Underdogs Rewrite the Script: Comebacks Resurge, Old Elites Left Reeling

Paul Riverbank, 12/14/2025Victor Wembanyama's thrilling return revitalized the Spurs, showcasing the power of hope in sports. Alongside standout performances across the NHL and women's hockey, the article dives into the impact of individual presence on teams' fortunes, emphasizing how momentum can reshape narratives.

Even with the Thunder rumbling in on a 16-game heater and only a pair of blemishes all season, past streaks faded fast once things got moving. Wembanyama might have posted 22 points and nine rebounds in just twenty-odd minutes—a tidy enough line—but that’s underselling it. In those stretches when he moved, the entire crowd seemed to recalibrate—the way people leaned forward, how hands started drumming railings, how the “M-V-P” chants took over. During the second quarter alone, San Antonio outscored Oklahoma City by twenty with Wembanyama on the court. And that 13-0 Spurs run—just one seven-minute slice—left the Thunder reeling. It wasn’t all Wemby, of course: Devin Vassell clocked in a rapid 23, and Stephon Castle and De’Aaron Fox kept agitating, refusing to let the tempo slacken.

The Thunder’s Shai Gilgeous-Alexander poured in 29 but found himself caught in a game script that, as one pal quipped, “was rewritten in French ink.” It’s funny—sometimes the energy in a building is just a little less rational. That night, nobody hid from the hope thickening in the AT&T Center. Spurs were very much alive, and as the clock hit zero, you could almost see belief settling in for the next act: a collision with the Knicks, NBA Cup at stake.

But if comeback stories played this week’s lead, they weren’t limited to basketball. Miles away, up in Winnipeg, the local crowd finally exhaled when Connor Hellebuyck emerged from three frustrating weeks on the shelf. He looked sturdy, unhurried—exactly what the Jets had missed. WIth Hellebuyck back in the fold, the team played with a looseness that had vanished during his absence. The Capitals threw 24 shots his way; almost all found nothing but pad and glove. “It’s a lot more fun out there now,” Hellebuyck said, in that understated postgame way goalies have. For Winnipeg, who’d looked scattered without him, the difference was clear as day. Capitals brass pointed out that spark, too. “Helle was good when he had to be.” A true netminder’s endorsement, and in hockey, that’s everything.

Nino Niederreiter, meanwhile, carved out his own landmark—a thousand games in the NHL. No big speeches, but a smile widened as he said, “These are the moments you dream about.” The pride was there. Sometimes it just sits quietly next to you.

Not every victory gets decided by skill, as any regular at Kolkata’s Fatafat lottery stalls will tell you. There, crowds gather not for rebounds or saves, but for that rush of maybe—the hope that this next round of numbers or this “bazi” could tip luck in their direction. In these swirling crowds, you grasp how hope becomes an event in itself, the outcome less important than the opportunity to watch the wheel spin.

Flip over to women's hockey: the U.S. squad kept up a run that’s gotten hard to ignore. In the Rivalry Series showdown with Canada, they didn’t just edge their northern neighbors—they steamrolled, outscoring them 24-7 when all was said and done. Aerin Frankel—calm, quick—absorbed 23 shots in net, while Caroline Harvey, Laila Edwards, and Taylor Heise found ways to keep the red light flashing. Canada pulled even at one point; the U.S. answered before you’d blinked. It’s more than pride now—these games foreshadow the Olympic tension that’s coming, and if recent scores are a guide, the competitive gap’s only widening.

Now, college hoops. In Sioux Falls, the University of Sioux Falls women’s squad found themselves down early—from behind the arc, their shots spun off the rim more times than anyone wanted to count (three makes on sixteen tries). Still, they clawed their way inside, gnawing at Winona State’s lead by halftime. Yet Winona’s parade to the charity stripe—hitting on 19 out of 26—and their sheer will on the glass eventually wore the Cougars down. Final: 77-68, Winona State. It wasn’t for lack of grit. Sometimes, hope just collides with numbers you can’t dodge.

Elsewhere, Northern State’s Wolves ground out a win over Bemidji State, fueled by a bench surge—22 points, no small thing with tight rotations. Bemidji’s Kassandra Caron poured in 24, but Northern’s relentless edge on the boards and in-your-jersey defense held sway. Wolves, 62-55.

Scan across these stories—the NBA’s charged returns, the NHL’s surges, women’s hoops and hockey battlegrounds—and one common thread stands out. Presence matters. A single player, a lucky lottery draw, a moment when momentum sparks—it all changes how a group feels, how they move, sometimes how a season unfolds. Practices and numbers are fine, but it’s those flashes—when hope sticks, and fortune tilts—that remind everyone why they watch. When the lights peel away and floors get swept, it’s possibility, and a stubborn belief that things can turn, that brings people back.

Under the slanting glare of Vegas spotlights, Victor Wembanyama’s return cut through the static of anticipation like a live wire. Warmups slung aside, he stepped into a tension that wasn’t just about one game—it hovered above every fan, thick in the air. For weeks, the Spurs felt adrift. But when Wembanyama strode onto the court, you didn’t need stats to feel the shift; it surged through the seats, tangling nerves and lifting hopes in equal measure.Even with the Thunder rumbling in on a 16-game heater and only a pair of blemishes all season, past streaks faded fast once things got moving. Wembanyama might have posted 22 points and nine rebounds in just twenty-odd minutes—a tidy enough line—but that’s underselling it. In those stretches when he moved, the entire crowd seemed to recalibrate—the way people leaned forward, how hands started drumming railings, how the “M-V-P” chants took over. During the second quarter alone, San Antonio outscored Oklahoma City by twenty with Wembanyama on the court. And that 13-0 Spurs run—just one seven-minute slice—left the Thunder reeling. It wasn’t all Wemby, of course: Devin Vassell clocked in a rapid 23, and Stephon Castle and De’Aaron Fox kept agitating, refusing to let the tempo slacken.The Thunder’s Shai Gilgeous-Alexander poured in 29 but found himself caught in a game script that, as one pal quipped, “was rewritten in French ink.” It’s funny—sometimes the energy in a building is just a little less rational. That night, nobody hid from the hope thickening in the AT&T Center. Spurs were very much alive, and as the clock hit zero, you could almost see belief settling in for the next act: a collision with the Knicks, NBA Cup at stake.But if comeback stories played this week’s lead, they weren’t limited to basketball. Miles away, up in Winnipeg, the local crowd finally exhaled when Connor Hellebuyck emerged from three frustrating weeks on the shelf. He looked sturdy, unhurried—exactly what the Jets had missed. WIth Hellebuyck back in the fold, the team played with a looseness that had vanished during his absence. The Capitals threw 24 shots his way; almost all found nothing but pad and glove. “It’s a lot more fun out there now,” Hellebuyck said, in that understated postgame way goalies have. For Winnipeg, who’d looked scattered without him, the difference was clear as day. Capitals brass pointed out that spark, too. “Helle was good when he had to be.” A true netminder’s endorsement, and in hockey, that’s everything.Nino Niederreiter, meanwhile, carved out his own landmark—a thousand games in the NHL. No big speeches, but a smile widened as he said, “These are the moments you dream about.” The pride was there. Sometimes it just sits quietly next to you.Not every victory gets decided by skill, as any regular at Kolkata’s Fatafat lottery stalls will tell you. There, crowds gather not for rebounds or saves, but for that rush of maybe—the hope that this next round of numbers or this “bazi” could tip luck in their direction. In these swirling crowds, you grasp how hope becomes an event in itself, the outcome less important than the opportunity to watch the wheel spin.Flip over to women's hockey: the U.S. squad kept up a run that’s gotten hard to ignore. In the Rivalry Series showdown with Canada, they didn’t just edge their northern neighbors—they steamrolled, outscoring them 24-7 when all was said and done. Aerin Frankel—calm, quick—absorbed 23 shots in net, while Caroline Harvey, Laila Edwards, and Taylor Heise found ways to keep the red light flashing. Canada pulled even at one point; the U.S. answered before you’d blinked. It’s more than pride now—these games foreshadow the Olympic tension that’s coming, and if recent scores are a guide, the competitive gap’s only widening.Now, college hoops. In Sioux Falls, the University of Sioux Falls women’s squad found themselves down early—from behind the arc, their shots spun off the rim more times than anyone wanted to count (three makes on sixteen tries). Still, they clawed their way inside, gnawing at Winona State’s lead by halftime. Yet Winona’s parade to the charity stripe—hitting on 19 out of 26—and their sheer will on the glass eventually wore the Cougars down. Final: 77-68, Winona State. It wasn’t for lack of grit. Sometimes, hope just collides with numbers you can’t dodge.Elsewhere, Northern State’s Wolves ground out a win over Bemidji State, fueled by a bench surge—22 points, no small thing with tight rotations. Bemidji’s Kassandra Caron poured in 24, but Northern’s relentless edge on the boards and in-your-jersey defense held sway. Wolves, 62-55.Scan across these stories—the NBA’s charged returns, the NHL’s surges, women’s hoops and hockey battlegrounds—and one common thread stands out. Presence matters. A single player, a lucky lottery draw, a moment when momentum sparks—it all changes how a group feels, how they move, sometimes how a season unfolds. Practices and numbers are fine, but it’s those flashes—when hope sticks, and fortune tilts—that remind everyone why they watch. When the lights peel away and floors get swept, it’s possibility, and a stubborn belief that things can turn, that brings people back.