The heroics of the 2013-2014 Spurs

Last night, amidst all the frenzy of the Spurs’ celebration after they won the 2013-14 NBA Finals, one reporter mused that summing up this win would be difficult.  The whole language of NBA writing centers around heroes.  This is a team.  We’ll have to learn to speak another language, he said, and we don’t really know what that is.

It’s true.  I’ve commented before on just how difficult it is to find a metaphor to describe these Spurs and how they work together—“machine” doesn’t get at their crazy, Manu/Tony center (as Zach Harper pointed out this morning), and to describe them as something akin to the 7-seconds or less Suns (as Zach Lowe did in his wonderful piece on them today) unfortunately doesn’t capture enough of their immense discipline and their ability to move and pass simply as one determined mind on the basketball floor (Boris Diaw in a way managed to suggest this by calling them the 10-seconds or less Suns, a length of time that requires a little bit more regimentation and structure than anything seen in Phoenix).

Yet a quick and dirty solution presented itself to my mind: simply celebrate every single one of these men who played significant minutes in the playoffs and their amazing heroics.

So, here they are:

Tony Parker – Tony Parker is thoroughly in the “who is the best point guard in the NBA?” conversation.  I don’t think he ever quite wins it—Chris Paul is that good, both offensively and defensively—but to be in that conversation, in a league this stacked with unbelievable point guards, at his age, is an amazing feat, and his finals performance only puts him more in it.  If the Spurs’ ball movement was not enough to pick this Heat team (and all the others in the playoffs) to pieces, get it overworked and tired, his continual movement and the constant threat of his jumper utterly destroyed them from the inside.  His ability to scoop up the ball from any position, out the window and around the roof of hands above him, put it high on the backboard so it can’t be blocked, and make it fall, with a suspenseful bounce or two, dead on through the rim—it is simply unbelievable.  He combines the wilyness of Steve Nash, with a dash of the craziness of Manu, and the composure and poise of CP3 into a truly formidable mixture that carried this team through this series, and set them up on every possession that counted.  Even when he wasn’t able to hit his jumper, as was the case early in that final game last night, he was able to set the table for his teammates with efficiency with a relentless onslaught of passes and curls and kickouts that brought them back into the game.  He’s an essential component of this Spurs team, and nothing showed it more than his performance in this Playoffs this year, on a team that worked more in sync than ever.  That’s saying something.

Boris Diaw – Diaw was graceful, was brilliant.  He passed more and better than any other Spur except Manu, and Manu is Manuficent, and can’t be compared to.  He really came out this series.  He basically invented a new basketball physique: he is perfectly formed for everything that Shawn Marion does.  He dribbles the ball like a point guard (because he was one), has the same court vision of one, is a knockdown 3-point shooter, and yet can post up and bang inside for rebounds as well as any power forward, nay, center.  He confused defenders throughout the playoffs with his strange set of powers, and allowed the Spurs to run lineups that wouldn’t make sense without him on the floor to glue them all together.  Throughout this season, he maintained a sense of style and cool that has always set him apart as an NBA player, and made him so interesting and so complete as a person—able, thereby, to hold together a strange and interesting role and never conform to the multitude of stereotypes of styles that NBA players are pressed into becoming.  He’s the most unique and most interesting of characters.  He was, more than anyone, responsible for allowing this team to be able to strive for the ambitious flexibility it set out to achieve, and he is the biggest single, isolated reason why the team was even better than last year’s.

Kawhi Leonard – Kawhi Leonard thoroughly earned the Finals MVP.  He was the most valuable player in that series.  He is, in general, the only player besides Paul George that can guard LeBron James.  And, unlike Paul George, he also matched LeBron in this series offensively.  His disappearance in the first couple games was largely due to getting into foul trouble, on some rather tacky foul calls.  Charged, though, in the third game, with not disappearing, he stepped up offensively, and still kept up the unbelievable defense that simply has to be watched and rewatched to appreciate.  His intense work ethic delivered results: he proved to be a dominant jump shooter and three point bomber that the Heat had to contend with on every single possession he was on the floor, which spread it crucially and opened up plenty of room for them to do all their work.  And while aggressiveness is usually present in the form of wild charges to the hoop through isolation plays, what was amazing about Kawhi stepping it up was that it never took place through a play called for him—as Popovich attested—but simply emerged out of the flow of the offense.  It was, therefore a cool and calm and composed aggressiveness, an incredibly smart, intuitive aggressiveness, that seized the occasion whenever it came time and made sure to carry it through.  The thoroughness of Kawhi’s dominance was probably what earned him the MVP: every bit of it came out of an effort not only to seize chances but to carry them through, to push all the way until the job was done the best way it could be.  This was more apparent on his defense—even into the fifth game he was thinking his work against LeBron could be improved—but it also blossomed into his offense.  Finally, his ability to unite teammates in a coaching role around him was wonderful to see: he sticks at his job, and allows other people to coach and advise him in a way that brings a community of people together in the process of making things work more efficiently.  It’s a subtle form of leadership, almost like leading-from-behind, but it is there.  There’s no more interesting player to watch develop next year than Kawhi Leonard, so great was his performance this year.

Marco Belinelli – Marco Belinelli hit one of the more pivotal threes of the year for the Spurs.  He has yet to fit as snugly, perhaps, as some of the others into this Spurs team, and this led to some hesitation among the fans to trust him fully to do his role to the utmost.  But he nearly always came through when the backs of the Spurs were against the wall and they needed him badly.  That three turned the game around entirely, and his inconsistency in terms of output in general gave way to his consistency on the offensive end and a very respectable defensive effort.  He may actually have turned out to be the member of the Spurs who ground things out the most, who stuck with it when things turned against them.

Aron Baynes – Baynes simply destroyed the Blazers and the Thunder, leading the way to the Heat in this playoffs.  To tangle with Lopez, with Ibaka, and with Steven Adams was no small feat, and was a crucial part of winning those series.  He also converted in huge moments on offense—showing the creativity and resourcefulness that Splitter has developed to use the rim, to use fakes and footwork, to get the ball consistently into the basket.

Matt Bonner – Matt Bonner played a huge role for the Spurs in the playoffs.  And he spread the floor.  He also hit threes with incredible reliability.  Most impressively, though, he played solid defense.  Not quite built anymore, he was able to do a respectable job even against LeBron James when switched upon him and to make him work—which is more of an achievement than perhaps we want to admit.  And when there was an extra rotation to be made, or a piece of help to be given—such as on a Rashard Lewis three in game 4 in the corner, Bonner rushed there and challenged and got a hand up.  He was not so much impressive as consistent.  Superficial critics of his starting appearance against the Heat pointed to his lack of scoring as disappoint—but individual scoring stats in general are overrated, as this Spurs team showed the NBA, and in the end wasn’t as important to them as the reliability in everything else that he brought.

Patty Mills – Every Portland fan has a soft spot for Patty Cakes, and rues that he didn’t get enough time when he was here in the city, and was eventually let go.  God knows what that must have been like.  To come back, unchanged in his enthusiasm, even stronger in his determination and more consistent in his output, was a tremendous feat, and this year it came into fruition.  Patrick Mills throughout the year impressed continually while Tony Parker was out, and was a big part of carrying the team to its 62 regular season wins.  During the playoffs, he came off the bench and gave the team the fire that would carry it along, that made the team’s first string of bench support, essentially, as potent and as formidable as the starters.  He is also, clearly, the best teammate on any team in basketball, as well as one of the goofiest and most endearing.  But while this was clear last year, this year, he graduated to a different level of effectiveness, as this effort translated into extremely impressive plays on the court, and concentrated itself into crucial, clutch performances behind the three-point line.  He was invaluable to this team.

Danny Green – Danny Green, after one of the most memorable Finals games last year—the game of threes, with his and Gary Neal’s threes raining down on the Heat—made an even more memorable showing this year: nothing will look that spectacular, but everything about his presence was more important.  His five steals in in Miami were amazing, and his continual ability to rain threes when it counts, in the middle of coverage or in transition, was crucial to the Spurs success and carrying their momentum forward into the next play.  His presence in matchups that didn’t favor him was impressive: he forced Chalmers to pass across the court to Rashard Lewis rather than give the ball to Bosh right next to the basket because he was on him, and he tried to strip LeBron James enough that James had to think about what to do—he bought his team time, and allowed them to provide a wall of defense against the best player in the world thorough enough that they could stop him, more often than not, should he choose do drive to the hoop.  He stopped Dwayne Wade so many times it very clearly tired him out, as well.  In general, he provided the most defensively prominent presence on the court besides Kawhi: he was everywhere, he was doing everything, all the little gritty things that the Spurs needed to win.  He more than anyone did the disruptive work that was necessary not just to produce parity with the Heat but give them their thorough dominance.

Tiago Splitter – Tiago Splitter entirely redeemed himself.  Coming back with a big contract and lots of expectations and suspicion from fans after what seemed to many to be a questionable performance last year, he proved the believers right: he became an essential part of the Spurs defense over the course of the year and into the Playoffs, and, even more impressively, an offensive presence to be reckoned with.  How many amazing passes from Splitter to Diaw, from Splitter to Duncan, did we see this year, and during the playoffs?  Defensively, he was as essential as ever to the workings of the Spurs, and he came up with the most impressive block (besides LeBron’s amazing chasedown) last night in these playoffs, when he absolutely roofed Dwayne Wade at the rim.  This was a massive, massive moment of poetic justice that could have only been more fitting were it LeBron himself there getting stuffed, given what happened to him last—though he was too busy getting blocked by  didn’t really matter: LeBron blocking him right at the rim was humiliating, and to turn things around by stopping Wade so thoroughly surely made up for it.  That it was technically goaltending in fact doesn’t quite matter: what mattered about it was just how thoroughly Wade cowered before Splitter, withered underneath him, so formidable was his presence.  To be able to do that alone, to be able to command that sort of respect around the rim, by Dwayne Wade of all people, one of the best finishers in the NBA, was thoroughly amazing.  And Splitter did this to everyone in these playoffs—not just Wade: that’s what made it so impressive.  It only seemed to sum up how much of a presence he became on defense, and how savvy he was at all moments.  He also drew a bunch of fouls and hit his freethrows at huge moments for this Spurs team.  In general, he became more clutch, became better at rising to the occasion, when things were demanded of him.

Cory Joseph – Cory Joseph’s dunk against Serge Ibaka and the Thunder may simply have saved the Spurs’ season.  The preparation, the discipline of this Spurs team won them the championship, but it is not exaggerating to say that the Manu-esque throwdown, full of that crazy Patty-Mills-ish intensity, in that strange game against the Thunder where Pop pulled all the starters, reinvigorated the team, showed them of what they were capable.

Manu Ginobili – Manu proved himself this year to be quite simply the most thrilling player to watch in basketball.  LeBron James is the most amazing, most impressive, but nothing gets you more worked up and more carried away than when Manu does something.  He is, and has always been, the absolute knockdown argument against anyone claiming the Spurs are boring.  No team with Manu Ginobili could ever be boring.  On a team that passes beautifully, constantly, through traffic, inside the paint, everywhere and anywhere, he became the most prolific and the most amazing passer: he may well earn the title of the best passer in the NBA.  His pass in Game 1 was the highlight play of the night—this in the post-Sports-Center era where only dunks and blocks are genuinely considered highlights—and that tells you something: he’s able to change the conversation about what constitutes athleticism.  From the display of sheer brute physical force, we begin to think it involves something different: the display of an overpowering of force of will, in the most contorted, physically demanding postures possible.  Sport becomes, watching him, something less like greatness—the biggest and the best—and more like glory—the best thing to happen at the best possible time, what we will never forget.  Everything the man ever does is glorious, simply glorious, and this Finals was no exception to that statement.  In fact, it was more impressive, coming after his lackluster performance last season, which played a large part in leaving the Spurs vulnerable to a much more tenacious Heat team.  Unsure about what to do with his older body, he struggled to match his will with his strength.  It was unclear whether he was going to have to become a completely different player, a much more conservative one, in order to actually continue playing.  This year, however, he somehow made peace with himself, in such a way that brought him back to doing things no less incredible than ever.  It strangely involved taking more gambles than ever, really, but in an even smarter way: he would sprinkle more devastating and disruptive threes in there, and make longer, smoother, smarter passes than ever.  He would simply make less mistakes.  Everything he did this year seemed right: every bit of wildness he displayed this year seemed to come at the exact right moment—it wasn’t controlled, like we thought it might have to be, so much as even more intuitive.  He just became better at sensing when and where to trust to his own brilliance, the strange occult power he has to seize everything available in a moment that would lend itself to the unbelievable.  Manu is magical, there’s no better way to put it.

Tim Duncan – I saved the best for last.  Tim Duncan was, quite simply, brilliant in these playoffs.  Last year, embarrassed and frustrated by his many crucial mistakes during the finals (in Game 7 especially), Timmy came back this year focused, together, ignoring whatever rumors were around that said he was washed up and done, and played his heart out, averaging huge numbers in the playoffs and showing yet again that he can be the defensive anchor against the most formidable offensive threat in the league.  How many blocks did he have this playoffs?  Too many, for anyone else but him.  And it’s a testament to just how amazing he is as a physical being, how well and how thoroughly he has shaped himself into a historically effective hardwood soldier.  No one his age looks better than him, physically, on the court.  And he quite frankly puts people a decade younger to him to shame.  It isn’t the age, the simple physical specimen that is the most amazing though.  It is how his game has adapted and embraced a fast paced, absolutely ruthless style of basketball: he basically led the team into a completely new style of play by changing his body physically, its maneuvers mentally, and demonstrating to every one of the players underneath him the dedication that it took to actually make the new system work.  This wasn’t the work of just one season, but of several, three or four in particular—and it involved a discipline and a quiet, wry, insistent charisma that was cultivated throughout an entire life in basketball and athletics.  He cultivated, himself, a post-passing ability that rivaled his outlet-passing ability, which was simply second to none.  He learned how to hit jump shots, to not rely upon the glass.  Last night, he hit a turnaround fade towards the baseline without even touching the rim, which would have been a challenge to him early in his career: for anyone else in the league playing his position, it would have been a risky shot, but because Duncan was taking it, you knew it was going in.  He’s that reliable, he’s that dedicated, he’s that efficient, he’s that relentless as a competitor.  There aren’t enough words to describe how amazing Duncan is as an athlete, and as an example of a complete human being: he not only shows up Kobe Bryant definitively with this fifth championship in terms of career achievements, he definitively proves himself to be the best single basketball player since the era of Michael Jordan.  That Duncan couldn’t care less about these accolades only makes them more clearly his own.  There’s been nothing better than Duncan for this team, for this franchise; there actually is a good chance that there may never be anything better than him for the NBA as a whole.  He is that good, and he has given that much to basketball, by himself, and through this comrades.  In the end, he has built, with his coach, a team in which each member can perform heroic tasks, and has to be described like a hero.  I honestly don’t think there’s anything better that can be said of a player, or a team, than that.  And while the team he lead may not have been the very best team possible, it is certainly one of the all-time most heroic teams: there may be more effective teams in history, but there won’t be many that are more full of feats of continual, consistent, extraordinary brilliance than this one.  The 2013-14 Spurs were a team to remember, a team that won’t be soon forgotten.