DENVER — Game 5 was long over, a season had been saved, and the hero looked around and waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Spencer Jones needed a ride home.

The man who lifted the Denver Nuggets to a 125-113 win over Minnesota by scoring 20 points, all while absorbing the sledgehammer forays of Julius Randle, does not own a car. Hasn’t since high school.

“I keep it simple,’’ Jones said with a smile.

Speaking of simple, the math Monday for the Nuggets wasn’t any more straightforward: win or go home.

Little did they know the least expensive and most unheralded player on their $200-million-plus roster would buy their ticket to Thursday’s Game 6 in Minneapolis.

Jones was undrafted out of Stanford. He played for Portland’s 2024 Summer League team, but didn’t stick. He signed a two-way contract with Denver and muddled around with the Grand Rapids Gold in the G-League. He came back this year on another two-way contract with the Nuggets, and by November was one of the band-aids used to cover for the Nuggets’ rash of injuries. It wasn’t until Feb. 19 that his deal was converted into a standard NBA contract.

Jones will make $623,967 this season. Superstar teammate Nikola Jokić makes $673,469 … per game.

But what Jones did here Monday wasn’t about money, or contracts, or recognition. It was about perspective. Humility. And the reminder that every person in the locker room makes up a team.

Of course, it figures the guy who saved the Nuggets from their lowest point of the season — the locals here are so distraught over the series deficit that coach David Adelman received boos in the pregame introductions — knows a thing or two about perseverance.

He didn’t get drafted.

“Yet, I’m here,’’ Jones said.

There were poor performances in the G-League.

“I’m still here,’’ Jones said.

In March, he had two game-winning shots hit on him in the span of a week: first Shai Gilgeous-Alexander in Oklahoma City, then Luka Dončić in Los Angeles.

“Still here,’’ Jones said.

In 12 of the 64 games he played in this season, he didn’t score.

“Still here,’’ he said.

And in Game 3 of this series, starting for the injured Aaron Gordon, he didn’t score.

“Still here,’’ Jones said.

His “still here” is not said defiantly, but rather humbly. He knows what failure looks like. Feels like. He has come to know it so well that he doesn’t fear it, for he knows failure doesn’t kill, it only makes you wiser, stronger.

“Look, for me, a lot of those losses create self belief,’’ Jones said. “That like, this isn’t as low as you think it is. I’m a big believer in balance, as well. The highs come with the lows, and the lows come with the highs.’’

It’s a wonderful lesson for his Nuggets teammates to embrace. A day ago, it felt like the sky was falling. The Timberwolves were more physical, more energetic, more opportunistic, and had just run the Nuggets out of the Target Center in back-to-back games. Adelman stressed the Nuggets were close to playing right, but few outside the locker room wanted to hear it.

Jones has waded through so many doubts and uneasy moments, and been through so much second-guessing that it all has become comfortable. Familiar.

“I remember all the bad stuff,’’ he says, “because when you get through it, you realize it’s not all that bad.’’

It’s no wonder the guy was unfazed Monday in front of a tense, sellout crowd, wondering if it was about to watch not only the last game of the season, but perhaps the last game of the greatest era of Denver basketball. Worried about a 3-1 series deficit? Filling in as a starter for Gordon? Having to guard Randle, the Timberwolves’ side-of-beef with teeth?

Pfft.

He banged with Randle. Got an early steal and breakaway dunk. Missed a layup. As the Nuggets went to halftime, they owned a 60-51 lead.

Then, in the third quarter, Jones drove the Nuggets home. He went 3-for-3 from 3-point range and scored 11 of his 20 points. The halftime lead ballooned to 97-75.

“Look, I know I’m not the most talented guy out there,’’ Jones said. “But sometimes, you know a little bit of talent shows up like tonight.’’

He credits the cliches — perseverance, hard work, dedication — but he also admits it takes self-reflection.

“Sometimes, it’s reinventing yourself,’’ Jones said.

He was a post player in high school in Roeland Park, Kan., because at 6-foot-7, he was bigger than most prep players. At Stanford, he became a perimeter player and excelled behind the 3-point line. And to make it in the NBA with the Nuggets, he had to be about defense.

In fact, Adelman says he still remembers the moment Jones earned his consideration for rotation minutes. It was in the preseason, when Jones defended Toronto star Brandon Ingram.

“I’ll never forget that,’’ Adelman said. “It was minimal minutes, but it showed that he had confidence in himself that he could guard high-level players.’’

In true Jones fashion, he doesn’t bask in the memory of that preseason matchup against Ingram. He drifts to the familiar, back to his comfort: failure.

“The funny thing about preseason, from what I remember is I never scored a single point,’’ Jones said. “I’m not kidding. I never scored. You can check it.’’

Five games. Fifty-five minutes. Zero points for Spencer Jones.

Yet there he was Monday, a season on the line, rushing in to save it. A hero.

A hero without a ride.

The last car he owned was in 2018. It was his grandfather’s 2005 Chrysler Sebring convertible, which couldn’t keep in the Kansas winter chill.

Perhaps those chilling memories are why he doesn’t want another car. He says his teammates usually give him a ride home. If not, he walks. His place is not far from Ball Arena. On Monday, after the high of his Game 5 heroics, he could probably fly there.

“Some guys want opportunities,’’ Adelman said. “Other guys take them and run with them.’’