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It's not the end of the world. It's not Paul George's horrific fracture or even teammate Russell Westbrook's multiple knee procedures. But Kevin Durant's broken foot and the two months he's expected to miss because of it sure don't feel like a matter of course.

Durant has plenty of time to get his season back on track; as usual, the Thunder should contend for a title. We'll miss watching Durant, one of the league's most entertaining players and most appealing characters. We'll have to wait to see how his ever-improving game continues to evolve. His war with LeBron James for individual basketball supremacy will be put on hold. While other athletes go to great length to present themselves as decent, hard-working people, KD is effortlessly convincing. It's hard to not feel bad for the guy.

But dear reader, as with all things in life, this isn't really a Kevin Durant story—it's a Russell Westbrook story. Durant's injury hit like a bomb not because of what it means for him, but for the potential maelstrom it unleashes: Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the Russell Westbrook Show. What happens now is anyone's guess.

Let's be fair to Russ, KD's oft-maligned running mate and my personal NBA lord and savior. He's no mere second option suddenly elevated to featured status. The Thunder's system spends a lot of time running through Westbrook and he's never been shy about making his own opportunities. When you hear rumblings about Westbrook one day leaving OKC to strike out on his own, it's never seen as hubris. Russell Westbrook is one of the ten most talented players in this whole wide NBA; the Thunder without Durant are a lesser team but by no means a terrible one.

But basketball is as much about personality as it is performance, and everyone knows that Westbrook has personality to spare. If Durant is even-keeled and smooth, Westbrook—on and off the court—is jagged, preposterous, loud, and confounding. If I told you that a player was an explosive scorer, willing point guard, dynamic rebounder, and dangerous defender, you'd be fine with him taking the reins of a playoff team. If I told you this player was Russell Westbrook, your reaction would be some combination of breathless anticipation and sheer terror. Westbrook is as unpredictable as he is thrilling, as maddening as he is talented.

That's why, without Durant, the Thunder might be even more fascinating to watch on a night-by-night basis. The team is often accused of having no real structure, of relying almost exclusively on Durant's steady output and Westbrook's streakier outbursts. Remove KD from the equation and you're left with either a squad forced into a more balanced attack—something Westbrook certainly has the skill set to facilitate—and a Russ-dominated dystopia, which is what everyone is secretly rooting for. Watching Westbrook go off is a ride unlike anything in sports. Plenty of athletes can take over their sport, but few can swallow it up and spit it out like Westbrook. He doesn't so much dominate as blot out everything in the world that's not Russell Westbrook. He's all you see and all you want to see. The surge of emotion that comes with Westbrook at his best is enough to power a small nation-state. It's somewhere between falling in love and dying, if you only fell in love once and died at least once a day.