On Tuesday morning, just two days after lifting the Larry O’Brien Trophy at Paycom Center, fans began staking their spots along North 10th Street in downtown Oklahoma City. By mid-morning, the route—stretching south to the steps outside Paycom Center—was swarming in blue and orange under a scorching sun. Confetti cannons popped, music pulsed through the air, and thousands packed the sidewalks, anticipation buzzing like live electricity. The energy was already sky-high, then Shai Gilgeous-Alexander stepped in and took it somewhere no one expected.

Shirtless, with his Canadian flag tied around his waist, he stepped down from the float to walk on foot, posing for selfies, shaking hands, and letting fans touch the trophy as confetti rained down, and chants of “M-V-P” echoed between buildings. It felt effortless, unscripted, almost like he was trying to give a piece of the moment back to the people who had believed in him since the start.

And just when it seemed like the celebration had found its rhythm, something—someone—pulled his attention to the sidelines. At first glance, it looked like nothing. Just a high school girl holding a plastic bubble gun while her friends laughed around her. She’d become the butt of a running joke—three hours of teasing over her dollar-store prop. But Shai slowed down.

He reached down from the float and took the bubble gun straight from her hands. For the next sixty seconds, the MVP of the NBA Finals became the MVP of a teenage girl’s summer. Bubbles filled the air as Shai posed with the group, flashing that signature smile while the toy’s soft hum mixed with the crowd’s roars. It was all caught live on KOCO 5—one of the most surreal sights of the day: a $5 bubble blaster sharing screen time with basketball’s greatest prize.

And just like that, the teasing stopped. How do you mock something that’s now officially part of Thunder history?

This is why OKC loves Shai Gilgeous-Alexander. Where other stars might’ve waved and moved on, he saw a chance to turn a silly gag into a core memory. That bubble gun isn’t just plastic anymore—it’s proof that our MVP cares as much about the fans as he does about winning. Some souvenirs cost hundreds. Hers cost five bucks—plus one perfectly timed MVP assist.

OKC’s parade proves 500,000 fans can still be “Too Small” for NBA trolls

Let’s get this straight. Oklahoma City just threw a party for half a million people—confetti, trophy selfies, and an MVP blowing bubbles like it’s his actual job. And somehow, the internet’s takeaway was: “not enough fans showed up.”

When the Thunder’s championship parade rolled through downtown on June 24, 2025, the streets were packed. Blue and orange everywhere. Fans screamed themselves hoarse. Players high-fived strangers. And Shai Gilgeous-Alexander—ever the people’s champ—paused his victory lap to play with a $5 bubble gun.

But sure, let’s focus on the three empty sidewalk squares someone posted on Twitter. Critics called it the “lowest turnout in recent NBA history.” Because apparently, half a million people (that’s 75% of Oklahoma City’s population) celebrating in 90-degree heat doesn’t count unless it blocks every camera angle.

Mayor David Holt’s response was perfect: he basically said, “Cool story, haters,” then named July “Thunder Month” just because. Meanwhile, actual attendees were too busy living their best lives to notice they were supposedly at a “disappointing” event. The lesson?

No matter how big your parade, someone will always call it small. Oklahoma City showed up—loud, proud, and utterly unbothered by the math homework of internet commentators. Even UFC stars took notice, with former bantamweight champion Aljamain Sterling and middleweight contender Gerald Harris shouting out the Thunder’s celebration. And really, what’s more small-market than proving you don’t need a coastal zip code to throw the most ‘you celebration’ possible? Exactly.