The Suns are caught in a coaching crisis, with Mike Budenholzer seemingly steering the team closer to disaster.
Taking a slow, deliberate breath, he attempts to find a moment of calm before exhaling—but the frustration is undeniable.
“FIRE BUD!!!”
That outburst may seem abrupt, perhaps fueled by emotions following yet another loss to a team the Suns should have defeated. But Voita has reached that inevitable point in a struggling season—the point where accountability, change, and course correction become necessary.
He tried to remain optimistic. During the All-Star break, he wrote and rewrote a motivational speech to rally for the final stretch of the season, pouring everything into maintaining a positive outlook.
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That optimism didn’t even last 24 hours.
Voita isn’t typically one to call for a coaching change midseason, believing such moves often do more harm than good. Historically, few teams have found sustained success after a midseason coaching switch, and the long-term consequences can damage a franchise’s reputation, making it appear unstable and directionless.
For the Suns, that perception isn’t just a risk—it’s their reality.
The organization has already cycled through three head coaches in three years, and firing Budenholzer would guarantee a fourth next season. That’s not a recipe for long-term success. Voita acknowledges that moving on from Budenholzer isn’t necessarily the most logical decision for a team trying to build stability. But in this moment, emotions are taking over.
He also recognizes that Budenholzer isn’t solely to blame. The coach isn’t the one shooting 30% from the field in the first quarter, struggling to execute plays, or allowing the Spurs to dominate the paint. His job is to put players in a position to succeed, manage rotations, and build chemistry. Ultimately, however, it’s up to the players to perform. If the Suns do end up with yet another head coach next season, the locker room must also face scrutiny.
Even with that understanding, Voita remains baffled by Budenholzer’s decisions. The Suns’ latest loss to the Spurs—their seventh in eight games—was his breaking point. Not only was it another frustrating defeat, but it also reinforced the growing concern that key adjustments aren’t being made to win games. Instead of questioning whether the team can win, he’s starting to wonder if they want to.
A persistent sense of “What if?” lingers.
“What if Tyus Jones wasn’t starting? What if Nick Richards got more minutes? What if Ryan Dunn actually played?”
When too many “What ifs” arise, something is fundamentally wrong. The uncertainty has festered into a larger issue—one that demands a solution.
Voita struggles to understand Budenholzer’s unwavering commitment to Tyus Jones, who continues to start despite being a net negative in nearly every aspect. Jones may be a capable point guard, but the Suns aren’t even utilizing him as one. He’s not facilitating the offense, and all metrics—both basic and advanced—suggest he’s ineffective within this team’s system.
“Last night was just another bad game for him, which only further highlighted how unplayable he has become with the starting unit.”
Voita has often argued that it’s more important who finishes games rather than who starts them. But in Jones’ case, the starting lineup matters. The Suns frequently open games with an undersized, defensively weak unit, leading to disastrous starts. This season, they have trailed after the first quarter in 25 games, with a dismal 5-20 record in those situations. Jones? He holds a team-worst -46 in the first quarter.
Yet, every night, he’s still in the starting lineup, weakening the Suns’ defense from the outset.
“I don’t know what kind of blood pact Budenholzer and Jones made, but it clearly holds more weight than the only metric that actually matters: winning basketball games.”
Nick Richards isn’t a superstar, but he addresses one of the team’s biggest weaknesses—rebounding. Despite this, he played just eight minutes in the first quarter, grabbing six rebounds, before being benched for the rest of the game.
“The rest of the game.”
Budenholzer experimented with different lineups throughout the contest, yet never returned to Richards, despite the obvious need for size and rebounding. Instead, he started the second half with Bol Bol at center—allowing Chris Paul to exploit the mismatch with ease.
“So Bud was willing to adjust by going to Bol Bol. But not by returning to Richards? Confounding.”
Then there’s Ryan Dunn. A young player with defensive potential, he made an impression during the Rising Stars game. However, in the past eight games, he’s averaged just 10.9 minutes. His development should be a priority, yet against the Spurs, he played only 20 seconds in the third quarter.
“That was it.”
Playing Dunn is an investment in both the short and long term. He needs in-game reps to improve, and giving him minutes would demonstrate a commitment to developing young talent. Otherwise, what exactly is this team building toward?
When asked about his rotation decisions, Budenholzer explained:
“We mapped out a nine-man rotation,” he said. “And then we tightened it from there. I think we went with the guys we thought both ends of the court, we’ve got to be able to make plays, defensively, offensively.”
Voita’s frustration boils over.
“Um, ya thought wrong there, Bud!”
The Suns are acting as if they’re preparing for the playoffs, locking in a rigid nine-man rotation despite their precarious position.
“I don’t know if Mike Budenholzer realizes that this team isn’t making the playoffs. Or even the Play-In. Not with rotations like this.”
When discussing lineup decisions, Budenholzer stated that he evaluates defensive efficiency, offensive efficiency, net rating, and film, while also trusting his gut.
“Laugh. Out. Loud.”
Voita questions Budenholzer’s grasp of the situation, suggesting that whatever data the coach is relying on is leading him astray. The Suns are spiraling, suffering from poor coaching, flawed roster construction, and inconsistent player performances. Each night, they find new ways to lose, whether it’s poor early shooting or questionable in-game decisions.
And still, Budenholzer sticks to his pre-planned rotations.
“Because that’s the priority, right?”
His job is to put the best possible lineup on the floor and give his players the best chance to succeed. Last night, that mission failed.
“How the actual eff did this guy beat us in the NBA Finals? Oh. He had Giannis.”
There it is—the emotional rant laid bare. Voita hopes he doesn’t sound completely unhinged, but this is where he stands.
With Budenholzer’s decisions appearing to actively sabotage the team—sticking with Jones, benching Richards, and ignoring Dunn—he even wonders if the coach is tanking intentionally, looking for an easy exit.
“So let him go. Bring in someone who can connect with this team. Let Fizdale run it for now.”
Maybe it’s the same mistake as last season—blaming the coach when the real issue is the roster. But everything within the organization is unraveling in tandem.
“We’re in a death spiral.”
At least fans can take solace in $2 hot dogs while the season slips away.
Just 27 games remain. Some will analyze the team objectively. Voita, however, will continue to process the season through emotion.
“I’ll try to dial back the emotion. But hey, can you blame me?”
