During Game 1 of the Western Conference playoffs between the Memphis Grizzlies and the Oklahoma City Thunder at Paycom Center, Grizzlies center Zach Edey stepped up to the free throw line.
Trailing by 12 points with just a minute remaining in the first quarter, the Grizzlies needed points. Edey was a decent free throw shooter in the regular season, hitting 70.9% of his attempts.
Against Oklahoma City`s tough defense, every point matters, and free throws offer a chance for easy scores. However, Edey encountered an unusual form of defense specifically at the free throw line.
This “defense” involved many fans, notably a masked individual with a bare chest featuring painted Easter eggs above his navel spelling “WIN.” This fan vigorously shook his body, used a megaphone to hoot and holler, and exerted maximum effort to disrupt the shooter.
Edey missed both free throws. His concentration was broken by Garrett Haviland, a well-known OKC superfan nicknamed “Thundor.” The Thunder ultimately won the game comfortably.
Haviland, 39, is a key figure in what Oklahoma City fans refer to as “free throw defense,” a tactic involving several prominent superfans like “Brickman” and “Thunder Princess.”
When an opponent steps up to the line, Haviland puts on his mask, positions himself behind the basket, and performs his signature “WHOOP” along with various “yoo-hoo” sounds and body movements. Should a player be distracted enough to look his way, his painted chest provides further visual disruption.
“Who`s to say that the one time I make a player laugh or lose concentration, they miss that free throw? That might be the point that decides the game, right? That`s the Thundor dream.”
Thundor`s persona has been a regular fixture at Paycom Center. Zach Edey is just the latest player to be visibly affected by Thundor`s antics.
Thundor remembers Denver Nuggets center Kenyon Martin as the first player significantly impacted by his efforts. During a Christmas Day game in 2010, Haviland, adorned with Christmas garland and a painted tree on his chest, successfully disrupted Martin.
Interestingly, Thundor`s efforts had the opposite effect on Dwight Howard, a player known for poor free throw shooting. Haviland described Howard as the most interactive player he`s met, often anticipating Thundor`s distractions and engaging with the persona. Over time, Howard`s free throw performance seemingly improved when Haviland was trying to rattle him.
This season, the most notable reaction came from Orlando Magic forward Paolo Banchero. Haviland had painted a “Banchero vs. Chet Holmgren” theme on his chest. Thundor claims Banchero was visibly confused, mouthing “What the hell?” while trying to decipher the art, and subsequently missed his free throw.
However, during the Thunder`s recent playoff run, Thundor`s distractions haven`t consistently translated into misses for opposing teams. According to ESPN Research, opponents shot 79.3% from the free throw line at Paycom Center entering Game 1 of the NBA Finals, ranking as the fourth-highest percentage at any road arena this postseason.
“For the most part, players either shrug it off because they`re professionals or, the few that I`m able to get, I try to make it count.”
His dedication as a superfan began during the Thunder`s first season in Oklahoma in 2008-09.
The convenience store chain Love`s, also the Thunder`s jersey sponsor, held a season-long contest to find the team`s most dedicated fan. Haviland, a native Oklahoman, saw the newspaper ad and decided to enter. The requirement to win was to stand out at Wednesday night home games.
In a November 2008 game against the LA Clippers, Haviland bought the least expensive lower-bowl seats, positioned directly behind the basket. He started thinking about how to attract attention. As Clippers center Chris Kaman stepped up for free throws, an idea struck him: he would attempt to distract Kaman and cause him to miss.
Kaman made all three of his free throws that night, but this didn`t discourage Haviland. He felt his spontaneous plan had potential and started developing his distracting routines further.
“I started ripping my shirt off, doing belly paints. Just kind of amping it up little by little every year to kind of figure out what worked best as far as the distraction.”
Chest painting became a key part of Haviland`s persona. A design can take up to two hours to create, depending on the complexity and the artist. He ensures each design is unique.
More than 40 different artists have painted Haviland`s chest over the years. During these playoffs, he`s often had his chest painted just outside Paycom Center, which attracts attention and interaction with other fans. On occasions when he doesn`t have a painting, he still goes shirtless, often wearing suspenders.
Haviland initially wore a shirt, but by the 2010-11 season, he began removing it. He famously ripped off his shirt during a Halloween home game against the Utah Jazz to reveal a jack-o`-lantern painted on his chest.
In a Western Conference semifinals game against the Nuggets this postseason, Haviland`s chest featured a painting of a basketball dunking into a sauce packet. Each time he moved to his position behind the basket to try and cause a miss, he interacted with a fan from whom he obtained a chicken nugget.
Haviland would then shake his body and mimic dipping the chicken nugget into the painted sauce packet. If an opposing player missed their free throw, he would eat the nugget.
“I consumed many chicken nuggets that night. And I can tell you that something that`s not very fun is to run down a large flight of stairs, eat a chicken nugget, turn around and then run right back up the stairs. It`s a very unique exercise.”
Haviland estimates he takes 7,000 to 9,000 steps per game and attends almost 95% of the Thunder`s home matchups. In the playoffs, he moves between both ends of the court behind the baskets, resulting in a quick dash when players shoot free throws opposite his usual seating area.
In his professional life, Haviland works for a behavioral health company, supporting individuals with developmental disabilities. He assists their families or staff by providing training on how to best support these individuals. His job allows for a flexible schedule but requires travel throughout the state, sometimes up to two hours away from the city.
Consequently, when it`s time to transform into Thundor before a game, Haviland often changes in a Love`s gas station bathroom en route, comparing it to a “Clark Kent” quick change. He arrives with his costume and leaves carrying his regular clothes.
This changing routine can occasionally lead to awkward situations.
“I`m sure people look at me like, `Oh, dude, that guy just crapped himself`,” he admitted. “And there`s times where people give me a side-eye and I just want to be like, `No, no, I didn`t poop my pants, I swear.` But I just kind of go about it. Wherever I can change, whatever I got to do, I will.”
Haviland frequently interacts with other fans who want photos with him. He`s also often praised for his boldness in removing his shirt for the act.
“When I was a kid, of course I got bullied, like everybody else. My defense mechanism was humor. I would make jokes at my own expense to try to deflect from the bullies. And so this is my way of taking the thing that I`m most uncomfortable with with my body — being my weight — and using it for good.”
This “good” means contributing to his favorite team, the Thunder, winning by causing opponents to miss free throws.
While Haviland admits it`s a somewhat silly hobby, he finds pride in it as his unique method of supporting the team. The Thundor persona has also gained a level of popularity he never anticipated.
“It`s just the ability to stick with it and to kind of watch it grow and evolve and just the support and the appreciation I get from other fans I really appreciate.”
“What`s life worth living if I can`t make others laugh and have a good time?”
