Keeler: Nuggets need Russell Westbrook to be agitator, Bruce Brown-style, not just facilitator

Less Yoda, more Vader. The Nuggets don’t need Russell Westbrook to be Bubble Jamal. They need him to be Bubble Dwight.

As in Howard.

Circa 2020.

(Booooooooooooo!)

Want to stick a fork in Minnesota? Stick an elbow in Ant.

Want to make OKC go AWOL? Scramble Alex Caruso’s brain.

Want to drive Dallas crazy? Play mind games with Kyrie.

A pernicious preseason, combined with watching the Avs run out of players by Indigenous Peoples’ Day, might have you already contemplating the unthinkable about the 2023 NBA champs. Don’t. As long as Nikola Jokic lives and breathes and shuffles, this is a playoff team.

Now. Is it a top-4-in-the-West playoff team? That depends on Jamal Murray’s knee. And Jamal Murray’s calf. And Jamal Murray’s tibia.

It depends on whether Julian Strawther turns a corner that Christian Braun, bless him, just hasn’t yet. It depends on whether Michael Porter Jr. adds new tricks to his bag to go along with all that new muscle.

It depends on whether Westbrook embraces being a pro wrestling heel. The guy you love to hate, unless he’s on your roster. And now he is.

“When people boo you, they understand that it’s a level of respect, and that’s the reason (why),” the future Pro Basketball Hall-of-Famer, who’ll turn 36 next month, said recently. “If people don’t say anything, then you should be worried. And for me, I take it as a level of respect.”

The Nuggets didn’t sign Russ to replicate his 2017 MVP season. Or to be a volume shooter on a roster where the ball goes through Jokic and Murray first.

They brought him in to be Blue Arrow insurance. Cover for both over the 82-game marathon and for the postseason cage matches that follow. They brought him in to scrap and pester. To teach, coordinate and mentor the kids on the second unit. To facilitate runouts. To turn defense into quick, easy offense.

Basically, to replicate all those Bruce Brown ’22-23 things, save for the shooting.

Which includes being a complete pain in the tuchus. A physical tone-setter.

The Nuggets of six months ago had lost their edge. Oh, sure, they flashed some spunk in the postseason. They needed more punk.

Denver became Midwest nice at a Mile High. They needed somebody to stick their head into one of the Timberwolves’ huddles. Somebody who’d try to make Karl Anthony-Towns’ head explode like a Roman candle.

The NBA Playoffs are a dirty, cutthroat business. The Nuggets tried to defend their title with plastic cutlery from your nephew’s birthday party.

“It’s funny. I think when people talk about Russell Westbrook, no one really mentions defense,” Nuggets coach Michael Malone said. “They mention how quick he is, how explosive he is, the rebounds, and the playmaking.

“When we went back and watched his defense last year, (at the) end of games, he was on the opposing team’s best player every night. Every night. So you have a guy that you can close the game with (in) Russell Westbrook. Who knows the league, knows personnel, has a respect (from) the officials, and has a competitive … mindset that I love. And other people (love) as well.”

Malone needs an agitator almost as much as he does a facilitator. A savvy, veteran set of fingernails to scrape down the Western Conference’s collective chalkboard.

Remember how much you hated Howard during the playoffs four years ago? Talk about a master class in villainy. The Lakers’ (boooooooo!) veteran backup center, then 34, was transitioning from 15 seasons as a starter to being Anthony Davis’ backup — an old man chasing his first ring. Sound familiar?

“I’m a team guy,” Westbrook said. “Whatever the coach asks of me, that’s what I’ll do … Whatever my role is, whatever is needed for me to be able to win games, that’s what I’ll do.”