'That's the Thundor dream': How one superfan contributes to OKC's 'free throw defense'

Memphis Grizzlies center Zach Edey went to the free throw line against the Oklahoma City Thunder in Game 1 of the opening round of the Western Conference playoffs at Paycom Center.

The Grizzlies already faced a 12-point deficit with one minute left in the first quarter. Edey shot an admirable 70.9% from the charity stripe during the regular season.

Against the Thunder's stout defense, every free throw counts, marking an opportunity to get easy points on the board. But Edey faced a different type of defense at the free throw line.

It included a bevy of fans, led by a masked man boasting a bare chest with Easter eggs painted just above his belly button that spelled out "win." The fan shook his body, hooted and hollered through a megaphone, and gave it his all to force a miss.

Edey clanked both his free throws. He had been disrupted by Garrett Haviland, an OKC superfan also known as "Thundor." Oklahoma City went on to win the game handily.

Haviland, 39, is at the forefront of what fans in Oklahoma City call "free throw defense," which includes other superfans, including "Brickman" and "Thunder Princess."

Once an opposing player heads to the line, Haviland puts on his mask, walks behind the basket, and lets out his signature "WHOOP" with a mixture of "yoo-hoo"s and body shakes. If a player is distracted enough to glance over, the fan's painted chest handles the rest.

"Who's to say that the one time that I make a player laugh or lose concentration they miss that free throw, that might be the point that decides the game, right?" Haviland told ESPN. "That's the Thundor dream."

Haviland's Thundor persona has remained a constant at Paycom Center. Edey is far from the first player to get rattled by Thundor.

Thundor recalls Denver Nuggets center Kenyon Martin being the first player impacted by his antics. Wrapped in a Christmas garland with a tree painted on his chest, Haviland got the best of Martin in a Christmas Day 2010 game.

Thundor had the opposite of his intended effect on notoriously poor free throw shooter Dwight Howard, who Haviland said was the most engaging player he has encountered. The center would anticipate his presence and go back and forth with the persona, according to Haviland. Through the years, Howard made more free throws than usual when Haviland tried to distract him.

The biggest response this season came from Orlando Magic forward Paolo Banchero when Haviland sported a Banchero vs. Chet Holmgren painting on his chest. According to Thundor, Banchero mouthed "What the hell?" while trying to figure out what the art said, then missed his free throw.

Thundor's distractions haven't been as successful for the home team during this current Thunder run, however. Entering Game 1 of the NBA Finals, opponents shot 79.3% from the free throw line at Paycom Center, the fourth highest among road venues this postseason, according to ESPN Research.

"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," Haviland said.

His superfandom was born during the Thunder's inaugural season in Oklahoma in 2008-09.

Love's, the convenience store chain that serves as the Thunder's front-of-jersey sponsor, hosted a seasonlong competition to find the team's ultimate fan. A born and raised Oklahoman, Haviland saw the ad in the paper and decided to participate. To win, you had to get noticed at Wednesday night home games.

Haviland wore a $5 costume inspired by Jack Black's "Nacho Libre" film. His friend spray-painted a logo on the chest piece. And he borrowed a megaphone from a friend who was a former cheerleader, then wrapped it in blue and orange to complete the look.

Facing the LA Clippers in a November 2008 game, Haviland bought the cheapest lower-bowl seats, which were behind the basket. He began plotting how to garner attention, and as Clippers center Chris Kaman took to the free throw line, it hit him. Haviland would try to distract Kaman and get him to miss a free throw.

Kaman went 3-for-3 from the line that night, but that didn't deter Haviland. He realized his spur-of-the-moment plan might work and began evolving his antics.

"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," he said.

Painting his chest has been a staple of Haviland's costume. Depending on the design and artist, the painting can take up to two hours to complete. He never repeats a design, either.

Over 40 artists have painted on Haviland through the years. This playoffs, his chest has typically been painted right outside Paycom Center, prompting fan interaction. If he doesn't have a painting, he'll just go shirtless with suspenders.

Initially, Haviland wore a shirt, but by the 2010-11 season, it started to come off. He ripped his shirt off during a Halloween home game against the Utah Jazz, unveiling a jack-o'-lantern painting on his chest.

During a game in the Western Conference semifinals against the Nuggets this postseason, Haviland's chest paint depicted a basketball being dunked into a sauce packet. Each time he ran down to behind the basket to try to force a miss, he interacted with a fan he persuaded to give him a chicken nugget.

Haviland then shook his body and acted as if he was dipping the chicken nugget in the sauce. If a player missed, he'd eat it.

"I consumed many chicken nuggets that night," he said. "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 said he typically gets 7,000-9,000 steps per game and attends nearly 95% of Thunder home games. During the playoffs, he works both sides, leading to a chase when players shoot near Section 110 opposite of his seats near Section 101.

For his day job, he works at a behavioral health company helping people with developmental disabilities. Haviland aids their families or staff, training them on how to better assist the individual who has special needs. The role means he sets his own schedule but travels across the state. Sometimes he goes as far as two hours from the city.

Therefore, when it's time to turn into his alter ego Thundor before a game, Haviland does his best Clark Kent impression and typically changes at a Love's gas station bathroom on the way. He'll walk in with his gear in his hands, then exit carrying his previously worn jeans and polo.

It can give the wrong impression sometimes.

"I'm sure people look at me like, 'Oh, dude, that guy just crapped himself,'" he said. "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 has lots of run-ins with other fans who want to take pictures with him. He also gets called gutsy for being willing to rip his shirt off.

"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."

That good being a free throw miss to help his favorite team, the Thunder, win.

And though Haviland acknowledges this is all a silly hobby, he takes pride in doing it since it's his way of supporting the team. His Thundor persona also reached a level of popularity that he couldn't have imagined.

"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," he said.

"What's life worth living if I can't make others laugh and have a good time?"