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Saturday, April 30, 2011

Winning Ugly: On Memphis/San Antonio

Now it's a mighty long way down the dusty trail
And the sun burns hot on the cold steel rails
And I look like a bum, and I crawl like a snail
All the way from Memphis


-"All the Way From Memphis" by Mott the Hoople

At some point, the commentary about the Memphis/San Antonio series is going to become repetitive and extremely polarizing. That will be a damn shame. So before everyone splits up into pro and anti Grizzly camps, let's just take a second and process what we just witnessed.

I refuse to apologize for being generic...pictures of grizzlies are too cool to not post if you are given the opportunity.
Before we really get into things here, it would be a discredit not to mention the Spurs' sportsmanship after the game; a gesture that I realize feels patronizing, though nothing could be further from my intent. San Antonio, who for years have been one of the classiest, most respectable teams in the league, realized how young Memphis is and how much closing out this series in front of their home fans meant for them as a franchise. So instead of storming off the court in a huff without shaking hands, they all went over to tell the Grizzlies they had done well, and to wish them luck in the next round. Ginobili was forced to endure a short homily from Tony Allen, which, when he related it back to Doris Burke later, was revealed to have been equal parts homage to Manu and inane crazy person babble (to the surprise of absolutely no one who knows anything about Tony Allen). Greg Popovich was quick to compliment Lionel Hollins in his postgame press conference. Everything about San Antonio last night was saturated in class, which is why the media's treatment of them over the next few days is going to be insufferable.

There will be an abundance of people discussing the end of the Spurs dynasty, which is ridiculous; the Spurs dynasty ended in 2008 when Pau Gasol was traded to Los Angeles from (ironically) Memphis. Whoever gets to be the first person discussing the game on Around the Horn will gain 5 or 6 points from Tony Reali when they make the 3,000th "Grizzlies beat the grizzled vets" joke of the day on ESPN. It's all so damn predictable these days.

I'm old.

But instead of following the stream of negativity, let's instead spend some time dedicating Zach Randolph his due, and discuss one of the strangest feel-good stories in NBA history.

I'm not sure how many casual NBA fans remember this, but Randolph was a member of the infamous Jail Blazers, one of the most reviled groups of players in NBA history, and with good reason. Each member of that particular Portland team (which included headcases like Bonzi Wells, Rasheed Wallace, Damon Stoudemire, and probably the worst of the bunch, Ruben Patterson) was arrested multiple times, mostly for marijuana-related offenses, with a couple of sexual assault cases sprinkled in for good measure. Even when he came to Memphis, Randolph was rumored to be running a dope dealing ring within the city.

Now, I say this not to taint what he has done, but rather to point out how far he has risen.

Randolph has turned himself around, won over an entire city (who, it should be noted, were one of the best crowds of the playoffs so far last night), and is currently achieving his highest potential as a basketball player. His back to the basket talents are pure gold. He has 5 or 6 gorgeous post moves, and a beautiful set shot when he's open anywhere from 10-18 feet. He has great hands, and he's very smart when he's rebounding the basketball. Similar to Kevin Love of the Timberwolves, he doesn't leap over everyone else to pull down the ball, but instead boxes out correctly, and seems to have Super Glue on his hands at all times.

Also, can we put this myth to death? Zach Lowe of The Point Forward blog correctly pointed out last night that Z-Bo takes a curious amount of flack for being un-athletic, despite the fact that strength, footwork, and endurance are all part of being athletic. Apparently NBA writers don't consider you an athletic player unless you are built like Amar'e and you jump like a kangaroo.

And since this is the debate all the popular kids want to talk about this postseason, the record should note that Randolph is the very definition of clutch. The Grizzlies in Game 6 were fumbling. They couldn't get their offense rolling, nobody was getting to the basket, and the Spurs were looking as they though might get an opportunity to close out Memphis in Game 7 at home, in a game where they would have all the confidence, momentum, and home court advantages that the best regular season record in the Western Conference could buy.

Randolph was having none of it. Dropping 17 points in the 4th quarter alone, en route to a 31 point close-out game, he was THE offensive option for Memphis. In Lionel Hollins final timeouts, apparently his instructions were "Mike, you bring the ball up the floor. Zach, you get to your favorite spot. Mike, you get Zach the ball. Everyone else, clear the hell out of the way." And the craziest thing? It worked. Not because of any kind of expert planning or execution, but because Zach Randolph was far and away the best player on the floor, and he was not about to be denied.

One could count on two hands the players in the NBA who, when playing at their best and most determined, are truly unstoppable. Durant. Dirk. Manu. LeBron. A few others...and Zach Randolph.

Yeah. He has arrived there. The Spurs couldn't contain him with Duncan, one of the most fundamental defenders of all time at the 4. They couldn't contain him with double teams. Late in the game, with the shot clock running down, Randolph actually managed to split a TRIPLE team, bull his way ungainly to the middle of the paint, and sink a floating, left-handed dagger to put the Grizz up by 9.

Everything about Randolph's game is a bit ungainly, which fits the Grizzlies perfectly. They are not a pretty team; at least, not in the way that Rose makes Chicago a pretty team, which seems to be the golden standard for beautiful basketball these days. The word "finesse" hasn't been uttered within 100 miles of Memphis, Tennessee when it comes to basketball in several years. But if your definition of beautiful basketball includes old school post-moves, a team full of role players doing their job, athletic, harassing defenders, and one superstar entering his own, then the Grizzlies must-see TV, and it's a shame that either the Grizz or their next round opponent, the Thunder, have to lose in the next round, because watching both teams this season has been a pleasure, if for very differing reasons.

But Round 2 doesn't start until Sunday. And until then, I'm going to sit back and enjoy everything I just saw.

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