The most notable thing that Zach Collins did was almost get into a fight with Nikola Jokic. He hit some shots, blocked some shots, and even dunked it with a medium amount of power, but those things are unlikely to be remembered by the casual fan who was watching this game. They’ll remember the fact that Collins was eager to throw fists with Serb Mountain.
I know I just spent time in my Nikola Jokic description speculating how many Jokic punches it would take to kill somebody (answer: one Jokic punch), but I lowkey think that Collins could hold his own. Maybe not in the actual “fighting” part, I think he would get demolished, but if he survived the flurry of fists, Jokic would be in some trouble.
If you look closely at Collins, you’ll see that he totally looks like a serial killer. His eyes are so grey, so cold, so calculating. You just know that a good eighty to ninety percent of the thoughts going through his brain are variations of “how can I brutally murder those who have wronged me and get away with it?” His pretty-boy haircut and strong jawline are attractive enough, even to other men, that people let their guard down around him, giving him the chance to drive his victims to a remote mountain pass and then use the rusty murder implements stored in his trunk to murder them and then dispose of the body in a way that can never be traced back to him.
So I’m reversing my position on this. Previously, I thought that Collins was lucky that Jokic decided not to throw any punches. Now I think Jokic is the lucky one for avoiding grisly death at the hands of a practiced serial killer who can’t feel emotions and has a developing three-ball.