1. Mania and Joy
Throughout the NBA’s regular season (which Charles Barkley—when he played—delighted in deriding as “the preseason”), it seemed there was but a single refrain: welcome to the NBA’s Steph Curry Era, in which basketball as we knew it has been transformed into a circus-like performance where all the tents are filled with three point bombs, growth stocks for the Silicon Valley fed venture capitalist team owners.
The Golden State Warriors, using an unprecedented 24-0 start as a springboard en magical route to a record-setting 73 win season (in addition to setting a home win streak of 54 games over two seasons) became universally loved media darlings (often compared to The Beatles), with the added ironic twist that Warrior Coach Steve Kerr’s mentor, friend, and former coach, Greg Popovich, loomed—as playoff time approached—as their only credible antagonist[1].
Yet even with Golden State’s record setting pace, it was not until the season’s last week that they clinched first place in the Western Conference. As the season played out, the Warriors got their record 73, and the Spurs “settled” for 67, a remarkable number itself, but the anticipated showdown, two rounds later, did not materialize, as the aptly named Oklahoma City Thunder put the Spurs to rest in six games, and weren’t finished yet.
Taking a 3-1 lead that they were painfully unable to hold in the Western Conference Final, the Thunder showed themselves fully capable of contending at the highest level, and proved that Golden State, however storied and accomplished, was not unbeatable. It took a record-shattering and jaw-dropping three-point barrage by Klay Thompson to rescue Golden State from seemingly imminent extinction in the critical Game Six, the last game Oklahoma City would play at home. Thompson’s heroics made it seem like the regular season again. Counting by threes to their opponents’ twos, Golden State once again appeared invincible.
The past two years have seen all honors come Steph Curry’s way: he was voted MVP by the first unanimous vote in league history, and yet was deemed so much better this season than last that it was widely opined that he could have simultaneously contended, even as reigning MVP, for the Most Improved Player award as well.
The playoffs figured to test Curry more—as they did last year, when his team won, but with him playing erratically, only occasionally showing the ability to dominate that fans had become accustomed to all season.
In last year’s Finals, LeBron James was clearly the best player, and it was Andre Iguadola, with his heavily muscled frame, who captured MVP honors, coming off the bench to sacrifice his body and contest every play, partially neutralizing James, whereas Curry was but one of many picadors throwing darts at the King, who labored mightily—and nearly successfully—to hold back the Warrior tidal wave. Indeed, he might have succeeded if not for Iguadola’s heroics.
By contrast, Curry often seemed weak, being forced into numerous turnovers by the more physical play that the playoffs promote. This year, Oklahoma City’s Russell Westbrook was every bit his match- often more (Curry had to be switched off Westbrook defensively), as was Portland’s Damian Lillard in Golden State’s second round match-up.
2. Playaz and Pretenders… T o LeBron’s Throne
So was Curry, a slender 6’3, really a player who was so good as to be said to have transformed the game? He is the indisputably the best shooter the game has ever seen, and is capable of entrancing ball-handling magic, but during his first MVP season, James was still universally regarded and referred to as “the best player on the planet.” This year, a greatly improved Curry left little to argue about, it seemed, in capturing his second straight MVP trophy, this time by the first unanimous vote ever.
Whereas I, identifying with Oscar Robertson’s[2] and Charles Barkley’s occasional curmudgeonly sallies, remained skeptical, wishing I could see Curry play under the old rules that allowed more physical play (most notably hand-checking on defense); or, better yet: without the aide of Draymond Green, for whom I would have cast a maverick MVP vote. Of course, I didn’t have one, so I imagined my hypothesis (that Green was Curry’s engine) an entirely fanciful one that could never be tested.
Admittedly, I had a personal investment in this point of view, since I prided myself in having been ahead of the curve in understanding Green’s importance, ability, and value. Just a year and a half ago, people thought I was crazy in suggesting that he belonged in the All-Star Game, whereas this year, he finished seventh in the MVP voting, even ahead of teammate Thompson, a second time all-star whose game is so remarkably complete, and whose shot is so perfect and compact, that I’m constantly—and oh-so pleasurably—reminded of Jerry West[3].
The Thunder series not only tested Golden State, but that hypothesis of mine as well: was Green more than “just” the Warriors’ heart, soul, and motor? How much did his genius fuel Curry’s apparent brilliance? After Oklahoma City captured home-court advantage by gaining a split at Golden State, Green was completely ineffectual in consecutive games, distinguishing himself only—in Game Three—by assaulting Steven Adams’ with a kick to the groin that the pantheon of former greats in the broadcast booth all agreed was “not a basketball play”[4].
Inexplicably[5], Draymond had gone missing, and the Warriors fell apart and got routed twice. Was he was collaborating to test my hypothesis? Unspeakably bad games on consecutive outings? Unheard of this season, as it was for the Warriors to lose consecutive games. Unheard of as in “it never happened.” Not even once!
In Game Five, Green returned to being himself, and Curry and Thompson alternated playing like superstars again, with the great Warrior cast of role players responding in kind, enabling them to become only the tenth team in 233 tries to come back from a 3-1 deficit in the playoffs[6]. It was indeed a close call, but not the first time that their seeming invincibility had been tested in this year’s playoffs[7].
3. Getting Burned Passing The Torch: Curry and James. Enter Draymond Green
When Curry won his first MVP trophy, everyone continued to designate LeBron James as the “best player on the planet.” After all, Curry’s reign could have been an aberration: a one year thing, the same way that Kevin Durant and Derrick Rose got the award on seeming one-year loans from LeBron, who has won four MVP’s.
But this year, Curry Fever was rampant throughout the league, even the world: he became everyone’s darling, the player nobody dislikes. Scott Cacciola reported in the New York Times that members of the Oakland Ballet see him as a kindred spirit, claim him as one of their own. He was a kind of latter-day Ariel, gracing the stage as he blessed the enchanted world of mania that these Warriors created for our collective enjoyment and, many believe, edification[8], both in basketball brilliance and moral character development. With admiration, Toronto Raptor All-Star guard Kyle Lowery has talked of watching Curry “lovingly,” wanting to learn from him. The expectable combination of competitiveness and envy was notably absent.
LeBron James, who, though not selected MVP, was clearly the single most dominant player in last year’s playoffs, is no longer young. He remains an unbelievably gifted athlete, though he now arguably has at least one peer[9]: OKC’s startlingly explosive Westbrook, now transformed into a legitimate (if his own special brand) point guard, with the help of mentoring from rookie Head Coach Billy Donovan and his perfectly selected assistant Maurice Cheeks.
As symbolized by Curry’s ascendance, the game was changing around LeBron, threatening to cast him in the role of dinosaur, before he was anywhere near done. Thirty-five years after the advent of the three-point shot and BirdnMagic’s rejuvenation of a failing league, the league’s greatest player seemed marginalized.
The future of the NBA seemed to center around Steph Curry and the 7’3” Latvian Knickerbocker rookie Kristaps Porzingis, and what these two players represent: the ever-expanding influence of the three-point shot[10].
In Cleveland, on Martin Luther King Day, an anticipated James-Curry showdown saw James endure his worst personal performance ever, losing by 34 points (minus 35 while he was out there), while Curry and Green shone brightly. Where, despite the return of supporting stars Kevin Love and Kyrie Irving, did Cleveland stand? In less than a week, they blew a large lead in San Antonio, then returned home to absorb a Warrior whipping. Then they sacked their Coach David Blatt, probably an excellent idea, but a move that exposed James to even more criticism[11].
With Durant no longer on path of developing into James’ natural foil (and even being talked of as a possible addition to the Curry-led/Green-driven Warriors), Curry appeared to be the launching pad into a future where for every James in his second year back in Cleveland, there was a Russell Westbrook or a Jimmie Butler, and something new seemed to be required.
4. The Finals: Hegemony and Rage. Enter The Unconscious
Yet the Eastern Conference was notably weaker than Western, so with Irving and Love available to help him battle off the three-point centric future (last year, both were injured), James, had an easier road to the Finals than did Curry. Yet the Warriors won the first two games, both at home, decisively: (104-89 and 110-77).
Back home, Cleveland responded in Game Three by maintaining form with a 120-90 rout, but Golden State captured Game Four in Cleveland, with a 108-97 win in which Curry finally had a big game (38 points on 7-13 threes), and appeared to have put themselves in a secure position, as no team had ever come back from a 3-1 Finals deficit.
But in the closing moments of the seemingly decisive fourth game, Green lashed out at James, making contact with his groin. The play was defended by Charles Barkley as a legitimate reaction to James’ stepping over Green, but resulted in Green’s being suspended for Game Five, and Golden State could not manage without him, faring no better than when he was missing in action for those two games in Oklahoma City.
What had happened, and why? Green had been explosive and uncontrolled before. It was part of his intimidating presence, but his accumulation of flagrant and technical foul “points” had made his lash-out (at a meaningless point of the game!) the automatic trigger of a one-game suspension (which he had escaped—dubiously—when he went after Adams’ privates in the previous series).
I tried to imagine matters from inside Draymond’s maniacal mind. Was the quintessential team player[12] instinctively betraying himself and demanding personal recognition on the level of James and Curry?
James was being deposed by Curry, and Green was the real reason this was happening, but he was getting secondary billing. In his moment of defeat (and perhaps relinquishment of his crown), James stepped over Green, whose instinctive lashing out was as if to protest not being including in the Curry-James debates: “You are not being deposed by Steph, but by me, and you will not deny it by stepping over me. I won’t let you[13].”
Instead, LeBron was ignited to respond with marvelous back-to-back games. It had all the elemental reversals of Greek tragedy: Green, suddenly afflicted with hubris, taunted James, defied the gods, and everything turned around.
The two men, James and Green, have travelled radically dissimilar paths of advance hype and expectation, but have become similar spokesmen for their teams and for the league. Green was a second round draft pick, whereas James was courted and crowned universally as a high school junior, picked first—above Carmelo Anthony, who had led Syracuse to a national title—in the 2003 draft. Yet Draymond is uncannily like LeBron in size, court vision, basketball IQ, and intensity, though his superior skills came later, as did his imposing body, which was once known as “puffy.” Without loss of the great strength that came with his once-beefy body, Green has transformed himself into a cat-like springy athlete. In last year’s Final, he dramatically stuffed two of LeBron’s dunk attempts, and had a triple-double in the decisive Game Six.
Ironically, at the end of this year’s watershed Game Four, Green was in a position to capture MVP Finals honors himself, had he delivered one more great performance, having dominated Game One, and contributed well in both other Warriors wins; doubly ironically, Curry’s big point total in Game Four had just made him an MVP candidate too, despite many weak turnovers; triply so, Green’s outburst wound up handing the trophy indisputably to James.
In Game Five at Golden State, without Brother Dray to impede them, LeBron and Kyrie Irving (who distinguished himself admirably, showing himself to belong in the company of Westbrook, Lillard, and Curry), notched 41 each, their total of 82 ranking as the third highest ever by a duo in an NBA Finals game, and the first time that two team-mates each exceeded forty[14]. James also had sixteen rebounds, seven assists, and three blocks. Curry foundered repeatedly, as the Cavs trapped him more easily with Green absent.
Welcoming Green back for Game Six in Cleveland, James orchestrated an absolute masterpiece: another 41 points, with 11 assists (many of them precise pinpoint finds and lobs so soft that they made converting them automatic), eight rebounds, four steals, and another three blocks, including one on Green, and a late-game one on Curry that should re-orient the worldview of all Curry-philes. Are you truly a superstar if you need protection on defense and get stuffed at key moments?
The only remaining question—an agonizing one to me—was why LeBron did not make this happen more often; in effect the same question as why his jump-shot remains so unpredictably erratic, why he sometimes drifts, despite having shown himself fully able—when he so concentrates—to harness himself to go straight up, and keep his form correct.
5. Resolution
I am writing before Game Seven. The cumulative score is 610-610. The series could go either way, and we may not adequately remember Game Six as the critical moment when James settled all scores, but that game alone deserves full commemoration, merits resting easy in our collective imagination: 115-101, it was a game that should settle all sensible arguments and erase any reasonable doubt about who the game’s best player really is.
It was LeBron’s night: he master-minded and orchestrated a 31-11 first quarter, and repeatedly punished the smaller Curry on switches. When he delivered a monster slam with 4:40 remaining in the third quarter to increase the lead to 76-57, it was utterdomination@holyshit time.
He then tallied eighteen consecutive Cavalier points during the critical stretch spanning the third and fourth quarters during which Klay Thompson had eight straight Warrior points in such signature assassin form as to make everyone wonder if he was going to repeat his epic and decisive three point barrage against OKC[15].
Down the stretch, while weathering Thompson’s storm, James was a like symphonic conductor: scoring in a great variety of ways, running clock, stuffing Curry, penetrating, and lobbing to Tristan Thompson. 41 points in consecutive games! Was this the long-awaited apotheosis? Did Draymond’s inspire this too?
Approaching Game Seven, there should be no question about LeBron’s legacy, except, depending on Game Seven, whether he will leave one legacy or two from this series. Neither Curry nor Green can use this year’s Finals to enhance his.
All the talk about legacies really comes down to defining eras: this season was the last for both Tim Duncan and Kobe Bryant, who played a combined thirty-nine years, collected eleven championships, and arguably defined an era. Dwyane Wade and Carmelo Anthony are past their primes. They are LeBron’s last Elders.
After that kick to Adams’ nuts, I could not maintain my love for Green. He had been my favorite player, through whose marvelous filtering lens I had watched games all season. I’m back to loving LeBron the most. He continues to build a legacy that puts him in the rarified company of Oscar, Magic, and Michael.
A final ignominy to recall from Game Six: Curry’s unfortunate ejection—his first ever—and his wife’s ridiculous irate tweet about money’s ruling the world temporarily sullied Steph’s stock in both the basketball and the real worlds. This should not be overemphasized, but Curry’s frustrated throwing his mouthpiece into the crowd was as foolish an outburst as Draymond’s two games earlier, as both—though Green’s more so—were at meaningless times in the respective games.
Curry, with his customary thirty points, was booed out of Cleveland. It was the first time he had fouled out since December 2013. With Coach Kerr protesting “you can’t do that to him. He’s a superstar,” the series returned to Cleveland, hungry for its first major sports title since 1954, for Game Seven.
CODA: GAME SEVEN
In the only close game of a series in which all six previous games were decided by more than ten points, Cleveland won Game Seven 93-89, with James recording 27 points, eleven rebounds, and eleven assists. For the last three games, he averaged 36.3/11.7/9.7, along with three blocks and three steals.
The score was tied at 89-89 (699-699 in the series) with 4:39 remaining, after which the Warriors did not score another point, partly due to a sensational block from behind by James of an Iguadola lay-up.
The game was decided by a terrific three-point jumper by Kyrie Irving, shot over Curry, who went 6-19, missing four three-pointers after the Warriors’ last basket, three of them in the final 1:14.
High scorer, as in Game One, was Draymond Green, who had 32 points, fifteen rebounds, and nine assists, making his first five three pointers on his way to a 22 point first half.
Post-game, the losing Warrior players and Coach conducted themselves with dignity and grace. Green and James shared a huge hug.
Notes
1 The Spurs had quietly drafted behind Golden State, while on the way to extending their home win streak to 49 games. As late as March 7, when the Warriors “fell” to 55-6 with an inexplicable 112-95 loss to the ordinarily hapless Lakers, only three games separated the two powerhouses.
As such, despite the Warriors’ meteoric start, Popovich could trot out the old saw that “we now control our own destiny,” which coaches routinely tell their teams when the numbers indicate that if they continue to win, they will finish on top, whatever happens in games between other teams. This trope suddenly seemed to apply, because, as a result of Golden State’s slip against the Lakers, Popovich could claim that “winning out” would secure the number one seed in the West, with home-court advantage throughout the playoffs. Since the Spurs and Warriors both had home win streaks of over thirty games, this advantage could indeed have been decisive.
A truly marvelous scenario begged for attention: the Warriors, if they lost to no-one else, would finish 73-9, surpassing the Bulls’ record of 72-10, but would finish second in the West to San Antonio, also with a record setting 73-9. However, this fantasy was disrupted the very next day (March 8) by a Spurs loss, on a night that Popovich was absent because of a family emergency.
2 Robertson defined the term “all-around player” before Magic or LeBron ever held a ball. He understands basketball on a level few mortals ever will. Any contention that Robertson or his contemporaries would have lagged behind athletes of today is the crystallization of ignorance. The greatest athletes of previous eras would adjust to the demands, parameters and physical developments of any future eras. Robertson champions Jerry West as Curry’s peer as a shooter, speculating that West’s impact would have been even greater, had there been a three-point shot.
Robertson actually called the Warriors “great,” but put the onus on the competition to adjust better, as, he contends they would have done in his day. He has pointed out that coaches’ failure to consistently extend their defenses offers Curry too many open shots. As a case in point, in Golden State’s regular season comeback overtime win against Oklahoma City, Curry was left undefended on his game-winning 32 footer. His assigned defender was backpedaling when Curry pulled up. It was Curry’s 11th successful shot of at least 30 feet. No other player had more than two.
3 West is now part of the management team of the Silicon Valley, Inc. Warriors.
If you recoil at that name, you know a bit about how I feel when people call them the “Dubs.” Last year, West, never fond of looking in mirrors, said he’d never seen a shooter better than Curry.
4 Endearingly, and with minimal apparent rancor, Adams, the young New Zealand giant, remarked “those are my best friends: Batman and Robin.”
5 This was around the time he appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated, once thought to be the kiss of death, and now known as “the jinx.”
6 A notable achievement for sure, but this is actually a misleading statistic, because the overwhelming majority of those teams deserved to be down 3-1, and were rapidly exited in favor of a better- often superior- team. Assuming equally matched teams, the odds would only be 7-1 against a team that’s down 3-1, and even this number over-estimates in the case of the trailing team’s having two of the three remaining games at home, even apart from being a more highly rated team. (Even though the Thunder had matured and improved, the fact that they were 0-3 against the Warriors in the regular season does count for something).
7 Although the Warriors had marched through both Houston and Portland in five games, there was more excitement than most people expected, especially Golden State fans, whose belief in their heroes as anointed figures remained undiminished.
After missing the first two games with an injury, Curry performed occasional characteristic heroics, but, overall, Portland’s Lillard proved to be at least his equal. Elevating his numbers to LeBron-like levels (22.2/11.2/7.4, and 3.2 blocks), Green made sure Curry’s absence wasn’t fatal. It could well be argued that the difference between Curry and Lillard is Draymond Green.
Similarly, on March 1, with Curry out, Green hit a near-impossible three-point shot to beat the shot clock with a minute remaining and rescue his team from a probable loss against the Atlanta Hawks. More than just heart, soul, and engine went into that amazing shot, his mid-air pivot worthy of any such move Michael Jordan ever made. So, the Warriors could win without Curry, but in the two games they played without Green, they were 0-2. Counting the two playoff games he was MIA against Oklahoma City, that’s 0-4.
8 In a June 9, 2016 New York Times business section piece “A Basketball Team as a Metaphor for Tech,” Farhad Manjoo argued that the Warriors’ style and business practices perfectly reflect their Silicon Valley base. “They are a juggernaut with a modern, disruptive style of play that is consuming everything in its path–an ideal mascot for an industry whose defining mantra is to mercilessly eat the world.” Manjoo sees them as a “metaphor for the way the tech industry improves, but also unexpectedly risks ruining, pretty much everything it touches.” Does this shed light on Draymond Green’s ball-busting action that let Cleveland back into the series?
9 In 2007 (Firstofthemonth), I described a confrontation at the rim between James and center Dwight Howard in his prime: amazingly, on the basis of pure strength, James prevailed. By contrast this season, with President Obama courtside in Chicago, James’ unquestioned physical hegemony seemed to end on Day One: in the game’s last fifteen seconds, Pao Gasol blocked his shot on a drive, and Jimmy Butler proved his equal in a pushing match on the subsequent play, the game’s last.
James’s physical dominance was always such that you wanted to tell him “Just Do It,” but watching him play against Butler, one could see that it was no longer that simple. With the game on the line, LeBron beat Butler to the rim, but Chicago center Pao Gasol won the battle to keep him from dunking.
How different from previous confrontations at the rim with centers whose physical strength- despite their height and position- could not equal LeBron’s: for many years, James- capable of playing all five positions, brought to an all-court game a unique combination of strength and physical superiority that evoked prototype center Wilt Chamberlain. But now he was adjusting, in a league with a plethora of great stars, a handful of which can actually rival his athletic ability.
10 The three-point-centric changes that the Warriors are generating in how the game is being played today are such that Isiah Thomas (the still baby-faced elder one, that is) thinks that the 6’9” Earvin Johnson, if he came up today, would be performing his magic from the center position
11 James probably didn’t give the word to can Blatt, but then again, why shouldn’t he have? The team lacked chemistry: the talents of their multiple stars were poorly blended. It’s hard to judge coaching without being on the inside, but every time Blatt could be heard talking to his team, he never went beyond cliché.
11 Advanced data analytics (which I generally decry—unless of course they support my intuitions) document Green’s overall value in many subtle ways, but still fall short of fully showing his overall impact: his plus-minus totals amply support my maverick vote for him as regular season MVP, not just emergent Star, as do comparisons of Warrior and opposition shooting percentages during times Green is and is not on the floor.
As team-mate Festus Ezeli put it: “Draymond takes care of everyone who is out there.”
Sometimes the metrics do capture something important, even startling: like in the Warriors comeback regular season win in overtime against Oklahoma City, in which they shot 75% with Green on the floor and 38% when he was sitting. It’s as if Green swallows the game, chews it up, and spits out a very different looking thing than he ingested. This is a quality that Bill Walton had in his prime.
For the second straight year, Green finished second in the voting for Defensive Player of the Year to the Spurs’ Kawahi Leonard. He finished first among non-point guards in assists (James was second), seventh in the league overall, whereas Curry was tenth. But, going beyond the measurable and tangible, Green shows an almost uncanny ability to see passing angles for openings that are barely there. His decision-making, physicality and ability to capture, read, and change flow make him a facilitator on James’ level. As a passer, he targets the shooter with passes that seem to carry with them the necessary injunction to capitalize, a kind of “targeted assist,” a close cousin the “hockey assist,” a pass leading to an assist. This is another area that metrics fail to capture (but soon will) in which Green especially excels.
Also beyond statistical measurement, Green is the game’s best screener, getting the most advantage from positioning himself and knowing just how much movement he can get away with; subtly, in a statistically undetectable way, even with sophisticated metrics.
13 If you don’t care for psychoanalytic hypothesizing, you can get to a similar place following the thinking of Farhad Manjoo (cited above)
14 The highest was 87, by Elgin Baylor and Jerry West, but Baylor alone accounted for 61! Having been in Boston Garden for that game, I can attest that West, though only adding 26, actually won that game, taking over for an exhausted Baylor in the fourth quarter, and capitalizing on Red Auerbach’s inserting Bob Cousy for K,C. Jones, who had been controlling West, for the game’s last eight minutes.
15 From a purely basketball standpoint, for me, Thompson is the only player on James’s level in terms of the simple aesthetic delight he consistently provides in just watching him routinely execute.
Bob Liss’s website is here.