MINNEAPOLIS — Anthony Edwards’ combination of athletic prowess and off-the-court missteps led Minnesota sports fans to equate him to another superior yet controversial athlete — former Vikings receiver and Pro Football Hall of Famer Randy Moss.

What Edwards proved in Game 1 of the Timberwolves’ second-round playoff series in San Antonio on Monday is that he deserves a more complimentary and apt comparison.

He’s much more like Twins great Kirby Puckett than Moss.

Moss admitted that he played when he wanted to play. Like Puckett, Edwards prides himself on always wanting to play.

Edwards was expected to miss at least one more week because of his hyperextended left knee. He forced his way back into the lineup on Monday.

Coming off the bench to limit his playing time, he played 25 minutes, producing 18 points on 8-of-13 shooting. He made two of his three 3-point attempts and contributed three rebounds, three assists and a block in the Wolves’ stunning 104-102 victory over the Spurs in Game 1 of their second-round NBA playoff series.

Edwards took over the game early in the fourth quarter. After the game, he chose to chide himself for his mistakes down the stretch — a turnover on an inbounds pass, and failing to stop the Spurs’ Julian Champagnie from grabbing two offensive rebounds Champagnie turned into put-backs.

“Ah, man, I made so many mistakes at the end of the game,” he said in an on-court interview. ”I’m disappointed in myself. For me, 75 percent of the game is my mind. The last two minutes I gave up two offensive rebounds and turned the ball over. I’ll be better.“

Edwards dealt with “runner’s knee” in his right knee late in the season. In Game 4 of the first round, against Denver, he hyperextended his left knee. He began shooting in the gym on Saturday. After the Game 1 victory, Edwards said he knew on Sunday that he would be able to return.

“I felt great,” he told reporters in San Antonio after the game. ”I don’t think I was limited at all. Whatever Coach needs from me."

When he’s not competing, Edwards can come across as silly. An example: He curses during interviews, drawing fines from the league, even though he has been asked not to use such language.

As a competitor, Edwards is reminiscent of Puckett.

Edwards recovers from injuries with remarkable speed. Puckett never got injured. He never went on what was then called the disabled list until he went blind in one eye at the end of the Twins’ 1996 spring training camp.

Puckett, too, loved being a particular kind of star — one who loved his teammates, loved the camaraderie of the locker room, loved the work, loved the pressure, loved the life.

In fact, the primary difference between the two was that Edwards is obsessive about physical conditioning, while Puckett relied on baseball routines to stay in playing shape. Which, in Puckett’s case, was roundish.

In Game 1 Edwards, somehow, was sharp.

“Ant was awesome,” Wolves coach Chris Finch said.

But not flawless. On an inbounds play with 34.4 seconds left, Edwards tried to inbound the ball to Julius Randle, and threw the ball softy enough that it was stolen for a breakaway basket that pulled San Antonio within two.

“We had a timeout,” Edwards said. ”I should have used one. I’m not really that good at taking the ball out of bounds."

Said Finch: “I should have called timeout there to get us into a good play. I should have called timeout when I saw we were struggling to get it in.”

That play didn’t prove pivotal because Edwards had played like healthy superstar earlier in the fourth.

On the first possession of the quarter, he hit a 3-pointer to tie the score at 72-72.

He hit another 3, over Spurs eraser Victor Wembanyama, to give the Wolves a 78-75 lead.

Then he hit a tough layup in traffic, and came down touching his left knee. What looked like a grimace quickly became a smile.

Edwards fed Randle for a 3-pointer to tie the score at 84-84.

He hit a shot in the lane to make it 86-84, and he followed that with a floater in the lane over the Spurs’ Keldon Johnson to make it a four-point lead.

After that play, Edwards and Johnson traded insults.

Puckett liked to talk, too. His most famous utterance, before his historic performance in Game 6 of the 1991 World Series, was directed at his teammates. He said: “Jump on my back, boys.”

Talent. Skill. Playoff success. Charming boastfulness. Hyper-competitiveness. Leadership. Toughness.

Forget Moss.

Edwards is the closest thing we’ve seen to Kirby Puckett since … Kirby Puckett.

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