For Those Of You That Were Curious, Thoughts On The WCF
- There have been several comments over the last few days questioning why it is that I haven’t commented on the NBA Western Conference Finals. This could very easily be construed as me petulantly refusing to acknowledge the Lakers. In fact, its’ quite the opposite.
- First off, let’s tip our hat to the Denver Nuggets. For two rounds, they played hyper-active, aggressive basketball, utilizing multiple weapons, havoc-wreaking defense, and of course, Birdman. They were exciting, they were unexpected (even with the 2 seed), they were dominant (kind-of). Well done.
- Okay, now that I’ve said that.
- The Nuggets had no shot in this series. None. Zero. Zilch.
- Look, trouncing the Hornets with a 50% Tyson Chandler, blocky Posey vs. last year’s spark-plug Jannero Pargo, and a largely unimpressive squad is still pretty good. Beating the Mavericks in five with a little help from a terrible no-call on an intentional foul, and an impressive size advantage is impressive. But I feel like everyone fell in love with this team a little soon.
- In college basketball, great defense is defined by defending shots and creating turnovers. This sounds pretty simple, right? Put a hand in a guy’s face, and take the ball away. One thing. This ain’t college. I noted how much success the Nuggets had against the Hornets and Mavericks by creating turnovers and then finishing wide open dunks. Easy buckets. But it’s one thing to do that against an athletically limited Hornets crew, and even a more athletic but still focus-limited Mavericks crew. It’s quite another to try it against a Lakers squad that loves to get up and down the floor. If you want to win a championship? You need to limit offensive options, contest every single shot you don’t want the opponent to take, filter the ball to the shot you want them to take (like a Kenyon Martin 14 footer), and crash the boards to limit repeat possessions. The Spurs model is difficult to replicate with personnel, but their success was predicated upon pretty simple, consistent principles. Likewise, the Cavs success this year can be traced to the same principle. Use fast breaks to augment your offense and frustrate your opponent. Don’t rely on them to turn the tide. You need to value every possession on both sides of the floor, not gamble defensively and aim for huge shots on offense.
- I couldn’t see any way that the Nuggets could maintain success against the Lakers (barring a Rockets-series-esque mental meltdown) with their style of play. Transition buckets? That’s the Lakers’ game. Athleticism? That’s the Lakers game. Only when the Nuggets slowed the game down, worked for inside buckets, controlled the boards and functioned to limit the other Lakers players while giving Kobe ground did they have success?
- At the beginning of the series, I gave the coaching edge to George Karl, just for right now. Jackson is historically a better coach, but has been terrible this postseason. From sticking with Fisher, to limiting Bynum regardless of his performance, to not working Gasol in the post enough, Jackson has been wildly inconsistent, absent-minded, and let his team remain unfocused the playoffs through. Karl, on the other hand, has had his team ready to compete in every game, worked to manage the anomaly that is J.R. Smith, and even was willing to turn to Kleiza (though not enough down the stretch). He worked on mismatches and made adjustments.
- Then he hung himself.
- I want to go back in time and be a fly on the wall for the conversation where someone inside the Nuggets locker room said “You know what we should do? We should double Kobe. If we can just stop him, they don’t have enough offense to run with us! I mean, sure, the only reason their offensive weapons are considered weapons is their ability to knock down wide open shots when the defense collapses, but hey! If we stop Kobe, we’re fine! Sure! Let Trevor Ariza spot up and measure his shot for fifteen seconds. Sure, give Vujacic and Fisher the only shots that they’re really consistently able to hit! Who cares, if we manage to stop the single best offensive player in the league who’s also a tremendous passer and who is surrounded by big, athletic supporting players who can dunk and shoot. This should work brilliantly!”
- It defies all logic that that adjustment was made. And the fact that it was made AFTER the Nuggets had already proven success without that principle is even more mind-boggling. But the only thing more vexing than that? Is that the Nuggets repeated that tactic in Game 6 after getting clog-stomped in Game 5 by it. It’s like the Nuggets thought that the only reason the Lakers were hitting open shots and getting a combined effort when there were constant open opportunities was because they were at home. I got news for you, Denver. LA can do that here, there, anywhere. They can dunk on you in a box. They can hit three pointers on you while wearing socks. They will expose that, Sam I Am.
- The other area Karl failed to make key adjustments was in his buying into the Birdman hype. I love that Chris Anderson is a terrific comeback story. I love the dunking, the blocks, the arm flapping, the ridiculousness, the tattoos, the hair, everything. He’s a lot of fun to watch. But putting him in the post versus Pau Gasol? Are you mad? Putting him in one on one defensive coverage against Kobe Bryant? Have you lost your mind? Birdman is a terrific weakside defender, and a guy who can make the small adjustments and plays to help your team win. He’s like a mascot that can ball. But he’s not a defender you turn to to make key defensive stops in the paint or otherwise. He gave up size, speed, athleticism, quickness, and talent to Pau Gasol. And yet they kept turning to him.
- For the Lakers, I questioned what it would mean for a team with this little heart, this little focus, this little resolve to beat the inspiring Rockets. I said it would mean talent trumps all those things that we typically ascribe to great teams. And this is yet another example. I’ve said this, Jon Barry’s said this, many people have said this, and it’s true. This is not an all-time great team, barring an absolutely dominant performance in the Finals (which is certainly possible). They’re not a team you’ll talk about with reverence. But the fact is, they’re in the Finals, for the second year in a row. They’ve only gone to seven games once, and that was in a series they didn’t really have to struggle with, they just had mental letdowns against a wounded animal. And if/when they win the title, no one will remember their beyond-pathetic performance where the Yao-less Houton Rockets were up 30 points on them at once point. They won’t remember and inferior Denver team pushing them in several games. They won’t remember the missed passes, the Fisher PUJITs, or Bynum’s sloppy fouls. All that will be remembered is that they won the games they needed to to win a title. So who cares what they’re weaknesses are? They may not have focus, heart, or resilience, but they do have one thing the other teams don’t. More ability to put the ball in the little rim with the net attached.
