
Ime Udoka didn’t try to dress it up after Wednesday night. He called the Rockets’ loss to San Antonio “a tale of two halves,” and that phrasing has quietly followed Houston through the rest of the week, because it hasn’t just been one game.
It’s been a pattern.
Against the Spurs, Houston opened with what might’ve been their cleanest 12 minutes of basketball all season. 36 points. 60-percent shooting. Four made threes. 11 assists on 15 made field goals. Kevin Durant and Alperen Şengün dictated everything, the ball never stuck, and the Spurs were chasing actions instead of anticipating them.
Then the game shifted.
San Antonio pushed pace in the second quarter, speeding Houston up defensively. The discomfort was palpable. The Rockets still scored, but the margin disappeared. After halftime, it collapsed entirely.
Houston managed just 37 points in the second half, shot under 30-percent after the break, and produced only one made three in the final two quarters. What began as organized offense turned into survival possessions, and the Spurs walked out with a 111-99 win.
Twenty-four hours later in Atlanta, the halves flipped.
The Rockets looked flat early against the Hawks, opening the game 0-for-6 and shooting under 40-percent through the first two quarters. The offense lagged, the pace felt heavy, and Houston leaned on defense just to stay afloat. At halftime, the Rockets led by one despite shooting just 38.3 percent- a game that had no business being theirs.
But this time, the adjustment stuck.
After the break, Houston seized control. The Rockets made over half of their attempts from three in the second half, drilled ten triples, and stretched the game until Atlanta ran out of answers.
Durant’s gravity warped coverages even when he wasn’t scoring, freeing space for cutters and shooters. Şengün anchored possessions with patience. Amen Thompson controlled tempo without forcing anything. Houston closed the night with a 104-86 win that never felt threatened down the stretch.
Same team. Same week. Two radically different endings.
That’s the tension defining this Rockets group right now. When the game is structured, Houston overwhelms teams with spacing, skill, and connective playmaking. When that structure breaks- when pace flips, counters disappear, or possessions get rushed- everything gets fragile fast.
Udoka’s phrase wasn’t a throwaway. It was a diagnosis.
The Rockets don’t lack talent. They lack continuity across 48 minutes. Until the first half version and the second half version start looking like the same team, “a tale of two halves” won’t just describe one night. It'll define the team.