Pop Culture, Vol. 2
While we’ve shied away from the traditional recap that used to take up far too much of our time, we still have a few thoughts after each game. For more thoughts as they happen, be sure to follow 48MoH on Twitter. We’re back again with what we’re calling Pop Culture with a few more nuggets following San Antonio’s 102-75 win over the Nets on Friday night. But it’s not a recap.
Graydon Gordian:
There’s a famous essay by David Foster Wallace from the now defunct New York Times sports magazine Play titled “Roger Federer as Religious Experience” [Andrew’s note: One of the best pieces of sportswriting I’ve ever read] in which the author starts to unpackage the reasons he finds sports to be compelling and, dare he say, beautiful. He hones in on the concept of “reconciliation.” Athletes, in Wallace’s opinion, force us to reconcile with ourselves the fact of having a body. Their abilities force us to address our own inabilities. In Wallace’s opinion there is something intense, edifying and, in fact, beautiful about that dynamic.
I watched Spurs-Nets from the comfort of my own home. My girlfriend and I poured ourselves drinks and settled in. She’s supportive but not especially invested—if the Spurs lose her biggest concern is my mood over the next few hours. But at some point, late in the 4th quarter, when the game was well in hand, she sat up and took an acute interest in what was happening. Why? Because Boban Marjanovic checked in.
She struggled to wrap her head around how gigantic he appeared. “I’m wondering if his arms are as long as I am tall.” She fretted about both his physical and his socioemotional well-being.
“Is it healthy to be that tall?”
“Is he happy?”
“What condition is his heart in?”
“Do the other players like him?”
Something about his presence unsettled her, in a good way. The players on the Spurs are nothing like the people we know in real life. They are taller, fitter, stronger, faster. And yet we’ve watched them enough times that even 7-footers like Tim Duncan feel pedestrian. Boban, understandably, stood out. She felt compelled to establish the fact that, while she and he could not be more different, there are countless ways in which they are the same. She was actively wrestling with what it meant for she and Boban to both inhabit a body, no matter how dissimilar.
As I sat there listening to her ask questions, I thought of Wallace’s essay, and couldn’t help but think that the way Boban Marjanovic forced her to reconcile herself with having a body was a beautiful thing.
Trevor Zickgraf:
I love technology. I watched Spurs-Nets on a car ride from Sacramento, CA to Salinas, CA. Thanks goodness for unlimited data plans. Anyway, we may have undersold LaMarcus Aldridge the defender. It’s only been a couple of games, but he seems pretty comfortable defending the pick-and-roll and protecting the rim. The expectation heading into the season was Aldridge acclimating to the team’s defense would take longer than the offense. So far it’s been the opposite. As Caleb Saenz pointed out, he looked more comfortable on offense tonight, I mean, four assists isn’t anything to sneeze at.
Much like Graydon’s girlfriend, I find myself mesmerized by Boban Marjanovic. The crowd popped for Boban’s first bucket and his hustle like a WWE crowd circa 1998 roared for Stone Cold Steve Austin. It was incredible. When’s the last time a 12th man has been an instant hit like this? Jack Haley?
Andrew McNeill:
Since before July 1 there has been chatter about how LaMarcus Aldridge’s offensive game could fit into the Spurs’ beautiful game-esque system. He holds the ball too much; he finds himself isolated too often; the Spurs don’t post anyone up much anymore. These are all valid concerns. Still are, in fact.
Through two games we haven’t seen exactly how Aldridge’s game will mesh with Gregg Popovich’s system. Likewise, there is still uncertainty as to how Pop will tweak his attack to take advantage of the strengths Aldridge possesses. It’s all about compromise, one won’t have to bend its will to the other.
But for all the hemming and hawing about what this is going to look like when everyone is clicking, it’s important to remember that the majority of the pieces from San Antonio’s swashbuckling attack that took our breath away en route to a title in 2014 are still there.
Boris Diaw makes basketball magic.
Caleb Saenz:
Different doesn’t always mean worse, but for anybody whose lingering memory of the Spurs remains how they reached transcendence in the 2014 Finals, change can only mean creating an inferior product. The Spurs uncovered basketball perfection in the same way an archaeologist might spend his whole career searching for a legendary prize, spending years in the mud, digging and hacking away, constantly changing strategies and reevaluating outcomes. Unless the perfect game was found sitting in Pandora’s Box, why would you need to keep searching?
For anyone determined to enjoy this season, it’s probably best to heed the words of Gregg Popovich, who opined last November that the Spurs would “never play better than… the last three games of the [2014] Finals.” He’s absolutely right, of course, and it’s fair to say that those heights might never be reached by any team again. 2014 was amazing. 2014 is dead.
Last night’s Nets game provided an interesting case study. The Spurs looked confused and sluggish for much of the first half, allowing a hilariously overmatched Nets defense to hold them to 42 points. There were enough midrange jumpers to convince you this was the wrong game. Passes were off. Communication seemed to be occurring on two different frequencies. But by the first few minutes of the second half, the Spurs were talking, clearly energized by Tony Parker and Kawhi Leonard, and something akin to a beautiful game bloomed. It wasn’t 2014, but it didn’t have to be. Granted this was the Nets, but the Spurs found a way to play together that they can look to all year. The hope is that this game, with its opening crawl and closing sprint, might represent a microcosm of the season.
There’s pleasure to be found in figuring things out. While our image of Popovich has always been the uber professional, clad in a suit as he commands the attention of entire arenas, the reality is he’s always been most comfortable with a pickaxe and some workboots. The Spurs know what they want this season, and while they might never find it, watching them dig is going to be fun.
