Larry Kuzniewski
Sometimes writing about a game seems exciting, like I can’t wait to tell the story of what I just saw, or like I’m going to recapture some mystical experience from the FedExForum in words and return it to you, the reader. Sometimes this job feels like some sort of mission, or a gift, or a calling.
Other times, like last night, I want the whole article to be
The Grizzlies aren’t as good as the Spurs. Still.
and I want to post it and go back to bed.
Sure, you can say the Spurs have had it out for the Grizzlies for five straight years now, ever since the 8th-seeded Griz dispatched the 1st-seeded Spurs in the 2011 playoffs. If that’s the narrative you’re into, you can write that piece about last night’s game, and you wouldn’t be wrong. But it’s simpler than that. It’s less dramatic than that, less infused with The Narrative that we all (myself included) get so addicted to from time to time as people who write about basketball.
The simple truth here, though, is something Marc Gasol himself said after the game: the Grizzlies aren’t elite right now. The Spurs are. The Warriors are. The Cavaliers are. The Grizzlies can’t beat those teams right now, not when they have to catch the other team’s best shot. It’s not just about the offense not having the firepower, either; these teams are better than the Grizzlies in every aspect of the game.
About that offense, though: last night, as usual against the Spurs, it didn’t work. The Spurs have an excellent defense this year, better than in the past few years, and the rise of Kawhi Leonard has a lot to do with that. The Griz couldn’t get the shots they wanted last night in the paint, and on the perimeter, they had to resort to an awful lot of 3’s from the wings when no other shot availed itself. Everything from the perimeter funnels down into the paint, where Tim Duncan played defense far better than any 75-year-old had a right to, but the Grizzlies seemed to forget that from time to time and tried to challenge him directly with a wing or with Zach Randolph. It never worked.
Larry Kuzniewski
Gasol has some success against Duncan from time to time—the head-to-head matchup between those two is one of the most purely enjoyable things in all of pro basketball to watch, two incredibly skilled players deploying their full range of tools and tricks against each other—but he also had five turnovers, at least four of which came in the paint. Gasol would get ready to gather and make some kind of move towards the basket, and the Spurs immediately doubled with a guard from the top, swarming Gasol while his back was to the basket. Four times this resulted in a strip or a steal, and probably the fifth one, too, but I don’t remember when that fifth turnover happened. I remember the other four because it kept happening. It was unavoidable. The double always came, and always ripped the ball right out of his hands, or caused him to bobble it and drop it.
I’d say “someday the Grizzlies will be better than the Spurs and the tables will turn” but, y’know, I’m not really sure I believe that. It doesn’t feel true, anyway, not with this group of (Hall of Fame-bound) Spurs and this group of Grizzlies. There’s a methodical sense of execution there that the Grizzlies have never had—this configuration of the Griz has always won by playing harder and tougher, not by picking apart opponents by systematically attacking weakness until it fails. Last night was just another track on a CD (remember those) that’s set to “REPEAT ALL” and no one has stopped it. It keeps playing, we keep hearing it, and we’re all so used to it that we barely notice anything about it anymore other than its unwavering presence. The Grizzlies aren’t as good as the Spurs, and the Spurs now have a good four years of institutional knowledge of how to dismantle the Grizzlies like they’re an aircraft in the Mojave boneyard. Piece by piece, system by system, possession by possession, rivet by rivet.
