duncan228
06-12-2007, 12:16 PM
Long one from SI.com's McCallum.
Didn't see it posted.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2007/writers/jack_mccallum/06/12/nba.finals0618/index.html
Taking Care of Business
The Spurs' airtight play in the Finals put Cavaliers star LeBron James -- like a certain mafia don -- on the verge of being silenced
The 2007 NBA Finals has a family feel. First, there's the kinship between the two staffs -- Cleveland Cavaliers coach Mike Brown worked for, and general manager Danny Ferry played for, San Antonio Spurs coach Gregg Popovich, who learned many of his X's and O's at the elbow of Cavs assistant Hank Egan, his mentor at the Air Force Academy.
More literally, between Games 1 and 2, a son, Ozmel, was born to Spurs forward Bruce Bowen and wife Yardley; another son, as yet unnamed, was on the way for Cleveland forward LeBron James and girlfriend Savannah Brinson. "I'm expecting any day," said James last Saturday. "Well, I'm not. That would be kind of weird."
As James geared up for Game 2 at the AT&T Center on Sunday night, the fortunes of another family weighed on him, too: The final episode of The Sopranos, which Savannah had been instructed to TiVo, began just before James exchanged pregame shugs with the Spurs at center court. For the record, James believed (and hoped) that Tony would not meet his Maker.
At week's end, though, it was James and his crew who found themselves close to being whacked. After holding LeBron to 14 points in a series-opening 85-76 victory last Thursday, the Spurs bottled him up for three quarters of Game 2, building a 29-point lead en route to a 103-92 win. (Game 3 was scheduled for Tuesday night at Quicken Loans Arena in Cleveland.) It is no surprise that James failed to conquer a San Antonio defense that is far more synergistic than, and almost as lethal as, a certain New Jersey crime family. But that hardly made the dual setbacks any more palatable for the Chosen One. (LeBron, not Tony.)
"We've been down 2-0 before," James said on Sunday night, referring to the Eastern Conference finals, "so we have to find a way to bring the intensity that we did in the fourth quarter tonight [when the Cavs outscored the home team 30-14] and carry it into Game 3." Brave words, but even James didn't sound fully convinced: Coming back against the determined Spurs will be a much taller order than taking four straight from the fractious Detroit Pistons.
Though guard Manu Ginóbili rightly describes his team as "a good vanilla, not a boring vanilla," America has never developed a taste for the Spurs. The league had hoped, though, that James's story line -- 22-year-old superstar straps on the armor and tries to lay siege to the three-time champs -- would move the interest dial. Well, James charged, San Antonio repelled him, and viewers remained unengaged. It wasn't just that The Sopranos buried (poor choice of words) Game 2, the former watched by more than 11 million people (based on overnight ratings), the latter by about 8 million; but Game 1 had also been a disaster, drawing only 9.2 million viewers.
In fact, you might have heard as much about Tony Parker's upcoming wedding to actress Eva Longoria as you have about his play, which has been sterling. The Spurs' point guard hit 25 of 43 shots (58.1%) in scoring a series-high 57 points over the first two games, repeatedly slithering his slender 6' 2'' body into the lane despite Cleveland's stated objective to keep him out of it. James offered a commonsense response when asked why it was so difficult to stem Parker's drives: "If every team knew the answer, he wouldn't lead the league in points in the paint." Much of the time Brown put the 6' 8'', 240-pound James on Parker in an attempt to bully him and limit his sight lines on passes. The Cavs weren't the first team to find that stratagem unsuccessful, and through two games Parker was the odds-on favorite to be Finals MVP.
Though the Frenchman is primarily a slasher, six of his 13 field goals in Game 2 were perimeter jumpers, one a three-pointer. His improved outside touch speaks to the perspicacity of the Spurs, who brought in Chip Engelland as a shooting coach before the 2005-06 season primarily to work with Parker. One of the first things Engelland noticed was that Parker had better form on his teardrop (the high-arcing floater he uses in the lane to shoot over big men) than he did on his jumper. On the teardrop, his hand at release was straight (rather than crooked) and his thumb was wide (rather than pinched), providing a more secure grip. "So we linked the teardrop to the jump shot," says Engelland, "and his outside touch improved."
Attention to detail also characterizes a San Antonio defense built on subtle and split-second reactions rather than on spectacular steals and shot blocking, a defense that moves, as Egan says, "like it's on a string." Even forward Tim Duncan's rejections are studies in positioning and balance rather than gaudy swattage -- he often permits a driver to get a step on him, then taps the ball away from behind, like a teacher letting a mischievous student know that he can't get away with anything.
Constant double teams forced James to give up the ball out front in Game 1, so the Cavs began running him along the baseline and posting him up on Sunday, getting the ball to him later but theoretically in a better position to do something. The change helped James a little, but he still looked uncomfortable in hitting only nine of his 21 shots. With the 6' 7" Bowen bearing primary responsibility, the Spurs continued to double- and triple-team James, who scored 25 points but also had six turnovers, all of them in the second half.
The success of San Antonio's D begins with Popovich's insistence that team defense -- 48 minutes of it -- be played. The Spurs work on defensive drills deep into the postseason, "things that eighth-grade teams do," says assistant coach Mike Budenholzer. The day before Game 1, for example, they went through a four-on-four shell drill that emphasized defensive rotations; most teams do that in the preseason and then forget about it.
That leads to a defensive accountability rare in the NBA, in which open shots are the enemy. "We have a scheme that is set up to succeed," says backup point guard Jacque Vaughn, "so when there is a breakdown, you will be singled out for failure." Bowen joked that after his son was born at 9:19 a.m. last Saturday, he arrived (still wearing his hospital I.D. bracelet) at the film session "just after they finished talking about everything I had done wrong in Game 1."
To the Spurs every possession is a little game within itself, and all those little games are paramount. Let the opponent get a couple of easy baskets and Popovich will invariably call a timeout, as he did early in the fourth quarter of Game 2 when consecutive threes by Cavs guard Damon Jones cut the lead to 19. The message: Opposition runs are not O.K.; letting the other team's offense get into a rhythm is not O.K.
Yes, the Spurs have two outstanding defenders in Duncan and Bowen, but the solid schemes augment individual strengths. "Bruce is a great defender," says Cleveland guard Eric Snow, "but the biggest reason is that he has Tim Duncan and a great team defensive concept behind him." A member of the Cavs' staff, who asked for anonymity, elaborates by citing the Orlando Magic's January 2005 acquisition of Doug Christie, a perimeter defender in the mold of Bowen. "Christie didn't help them nearly as much as they thought because they didn't have a defensive system," says the staffer. "Any individual defender is far less important than the system itself."
Then, too, that system protects weaker individual defenders, such as Parker. Popovich noted the birth of six-pound, 11-ounce Ozmel Bowen by saying that two miracles had happened that weekend -- the other being that Parker had actually engaged in help-side defense in Game 1. (In truth, backup guard Brent Barry said that but credited Popovich "because I'm trying to suck up to get playing time.") The fact that Parker can get overpowered by a strong offensive player is almost irrelevant because he will always have help.
Finally, executing effective rotations is often more about covering up mistakes than making a textbook play. When a defender rotates to the wrong player it's up to, as Popovich puts it, "his buddy to cover for him." One of the best at doing that is 36-year-old forward Robert Horry, who in Game 2 dashed from side to side like a commuter in a frantic search for the correct train, finishing with an overstocked stat line that read 26 minutes, five points, nine rebounds, four assists and five blocks.
Not accounted for were the times that Horry raced around the court to pick up potential open shooters. For instance, with San Antonio up 11 and about 1:30 remaining, Duncan came from under the basket to double James. Forced to give the ball up when he would have preferred to shoot, James zipped a pass toward forward Anderson Varejăo, but Horry, rotating to pick up Duncan's man, knocked it away, then took off in mad pursuit. He dived for the ball at the sideline, upending Popovich (who was not hurt) in the process. It almost didn't matter that Horry tipped it out-of-bounds and Cleveland maintained possession; the effort made the statement.
The Cavs could extract some hope from their comeback in Game 2, but, all things considered, the trip to San Antonio had been even rougher than expected for the young team, particularly for James, who shouldered the majority of the pressure as well as the defensive attention. He seized upon any opportunity to discuss a subject other than basketball, which is why he was so animated answering a question about The Sopranos, revealing his wish that Tony get away "and not worry about nothing." But James knows that it's never that easy for the head of a family, particularly when a worthy adversary has you in its sights.
Didn't see it posted.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2007/writers/jack_mccallum/06/12/nba.finals0618/index.html
Taking Care of Business
The Spurs' airtight play in the Finals put Cavaliers star LeBron James -- like a certain mafia don -- on the verge of being silenced
The 2007 NBA Finals has a family feel. First, there's the kinship between the two staffs -- Cleveland Cavaliers coach Mike Brown worked for, and general manager Danny Ferry played for, San Antonio Spurs coach Gregg Popovich, who learned many of his X's and O's at the elbow of Cavs assistant Hank Egan, his mentor at the Air Force Academy.
More literally, between Games 1 and 2, a son, Ozmel, was born to Spurs forward Bruce Bowen and wife Yardley; another son, as yet unnamed, was on the way for Cleveland forward LeBron James and girlfriend Savannah Brinson. "I'm expecting any day," said James last Saturday. "Well, I'm not. That would be kind of weird."
As James geared up for Game 2 at the AT&T Center on Sunday night, the fortunes of another family weighed on him, too: The final episode of The Sopranos, which Savannah had been instructed to TiVo, began just before James exchanged pregame shugs with the Spurs at center court. For the record, James believed (and hoped) that Tony would not meet his Maker.
At week's end, though, it was James and his crew who found themselves close to being whacked. After holding LeBron to 14 points in a series-opening 85-76 victory last Thursday, the Spurs bottled him up for three quarters of Game 2, building a 29-point lead en route to a 103-92 win. (Game 3 was scheduled for Tuesday night at Quicken Loans Arena in Cleveland.) It is no surprise that James failed to conquer a San Antonio defense that is far more synergistic than, and almost as lethal as, a certain New Jersey crime family. But that hardly made the dual setbacks any more palatable for the Chosen One. (LeBron, not Tony.)
"We've been down 2-0 before," James said on Sunday night, referring to the Eastern Conference finals, "so we have to find a way to bring the intensity that we did in the fourth quarter tonight [when the Cavs outscored the home team 30-14] and carry it into Game 3." Brave words, but even James didn't sound fully convinced: Coming back against the determined Spurs will be a much taller order than taking four straight from the fractious Detroit Pistons.
Though guard Manu Ginóbili rightly describes his team as "a good vanilla, not a boring vanilla," America has never developed a taste for the Spurs. The league had hoped, though, that James's story line -- 22-year-old superstar straps on the armor and tries to lay siege to the three-time champs -- would move the interest dial. Well, James charged, San Antonio repelled him, and viewers remained unengaged. It wasn't just that The Sopranos buried (poor choice of words) Game 2, the former watched by more than 11 million people (based on overnight ratings), the latter by about 8 million; but Game 1 had also been a disaster, drawing only 9.2 million viewers.
In fact, you might have heard as much about Tony Parker's upcoming wedding to actress Eva Longoria as you have about his play, which has been sterling. The Spurs' point guard hit 25 of 43 shots (58.1%) in scoring a series-high 57 points over the first two games, repeatedly slithering his slender 6' 2'' body into the lane despite Cleveland's stated objective to keep him out of it. James offered a commonsense response when asked why it was so difficult to stem Parker's drives: "If every team knew the answer, he wouldn't lead the league in points in the paint." Much of the time Brown put the 6' 8'', 240-pound James on Parker in an attempt to bully him and limit his sight lines on passes. The Cavs weren't the first team to find that stratagem unsuccessful, and through two games Parker was the odds-on favorite to be Finals MVP.
Though the Frenchman is primarily a slasher, six of his 13 field goals in Game 2 were perimeter jumpers, one a three-pointer. His improved outside touch speaks to the perspicacity of the Spurs, who brought in Chip Engelland as a shooting coach before the 2005-06 season primarily to work with Parker. One of the first things Engelland noticed was that Parker had better form on his teardrop (the high-arcing floater he uses in the lane to shoot over big men) than he did on his jumper. On the teardrop, his hand at release was straight (rather than crooked) and his thumb was wide (rather than pinched), providing a more secure grip. "So we linked the teardrop to the jump shot," says Engelland, "and his outside touch improved."
Attention to detail also characterizes a San Antonio defense built on subtle and split-second reactions rather than on spectacular steals and shot blocking, a defense that moves, as Egan says, "like it's on a string." Even forward Tim Duncan's rejections are studies in positioning and balance rather than gaudy swattage -- he often permits a driver to get a step on him, then taps the ball away from behind, like a teacher letting a mischievous student know that he can't get away with anything.
Constant double teams forced James to give up the ball out front in Game 1, so the Cavs began running him along the baseline and posting him up on Sunday, getting the ball to him later but theoretically in a better position to do something. The change helped James a little, but he still looked uncomfortable in hitting only nine of his 21 shots. With the 6' 7" Bowen bearing primary responsibility, the Spurs continued to double- and triple-team James, who scored 25 points but also had six turnovers, all of them in the second half.
The success of San Antonio's D begins with Popovich's insistence that team defense -- 48 minutes of it -- be played. The Spurs work on defensive drills deep into the postseason, "things that eighth-grade teams do," says assistant coach Mike Budenholzer. The day before Game 1, for example, they went through a four-on-four shell drill that emphasized defensive rotations; most teams do that in the preseason and then forget about it.
That leads to a defensive accountability rare in the NBA, in which open shots are the enemy. "We have a scheme that is set up to succeed," says backup point guard Jacque Vaughn, "so when there is a breakdown, you will be singled out for failure." Bowen joked that after his son was born at 9:19 a.m. last Saturday, he arrived (still wearing his hospital I.D. bracelet) at the film session "just after they finished talking about everything I had done wrong in Game 1."
To the Spurs every possession is a little game within itself, and all those little games are paramount. Let the opponent get a couple of easy baskets and Popovich will invariably call a timeout, as he did early in the fourth quarter of Game 2 when consecutive threes by Cavs guard Damon Jones cut the lead to 19. The message: Opposition runs are not O.K.; letting the other team's offense get into a rhythm is not O.K.
Yes, the Spurs have two outstanding defenders in Duncan and Bowen, but the solid schemes augment individual strengths. "Bruce is a great defender," says Cleveland guard Eric Snow, "but the biggest reason is that he has Tim Duncan and a great team defensive concept behind him." A member of the Cavs' staff, who asked for anonymity, elaborates by citing the Orlando Magic's January 2005 acquisition of Doug Christie, a perimeter defender in the mold of Bowen. "Christie didn't help them nearly as much as they thought because they didn't have a defensive system," says the staffer. "Any individual defender is far less important than the system itself."
Then, too, that system protects weaker individual defenders, such as Parker. Popovich noted the birth of six-pound, 11-ounce Ozmel Bowen by saying that two miracles had happened that weekend -- the other being that Parker had actually engaged in help-side defense in Game 1. (In truth, backup guard Brent Barry said that but credited Popovich "because I'm trying to suck up to get playing time.") The fact that Parker can get overpowered by a strong offensive player is almost irrelevant because he will always have help.
Finally, executing effective rotations is often more about covering up mistakes than making a textbook play. When a defender rotates to the wrong player it's up to, as Popovich puts it, "his buddy to cover for him." One of the best at doing that is 36-year-old forward Robert Horry, who in Game 2 dashed from side to side like a commuter in a frantic search for the correct train, finishing with an overstocked stat line that read 26 minutes, five points, nine rebounds, four assists and five blocks.
Not accounted for were the times that Horry raced around the court to pick up potential open shooters. For instance, with San Antonio up 11 and about 1:30 remaining, Duncan came from under the basket to double James. Forced to give the ball up when he would have preferred to shoot, James zipped a pass toward forward Anderson Varejăo, but Horry, rotating to pick up Duncan's man, knocked it away, then took off in mad pursuit. He dived for the ball at the sideline, upending Popovich (who was not hurt) in the process. It almost didn't matter that Horry tipped it out-of-bounds and Cleveland maintained possession; the effort made the statement.
The Cavs could extract some hope from their comeback in Game 2, but, all things considered, the trip to San Antonio had been even rougher than expected for the young team, particularly for James, who shouldered the majority of the pressure as well as the defensive attention. He seized upon any opportunity to discuss a subject other than basketball, which is why he was so animated answering a question about The Sopranos, revealing his wish that Tony get away "and not worry about nothing." But James knows that it's never that easy for the head of a family, particularly when a worthy adversary has you in its sights.