The Rake Magazine

Tag: Kobe

  • Champions with a Vengeance

    (AFP/File/Gabriel Bouys)

    NBA Finals Game #6: Los Angeles 92, Boston 131

    Series: Boston wins 4-2

    A 39-point margin in a championship-clinching game means that one team was relentlessly magnificent and the other quit early and never bothered to revive. Quite frankly, I’m shocked at how thoroughly the Celtics cut the heart out of this Lakers team, but a new champion has been crowned, so let’s stroll on the sunny side to start.

    Any coach or player will tell you that defense is a team concept and that the most important component of it is trusting all four of your teammates to make the right rotation or adjustment or decision within the prevailing scheme. The Celtics were blessed to have three perennial all-stars wholeheartedly buy into making defense the priority – how often do one, or even two, actually make that commitment? – and then piecing together rock-solid character guys like Posey and PJ Brown who know their roles off the bench. Add in a pair of young starters who both are far superior on defense than offense, and you have a team identity based around the most energy-intensive – and yet, if you achieve that critical mass of trust and effort, energy-effective – style of play. One of the hoariest cliches in all team sports is that defense wins championships. The Celtics epitomized that for the NBA this year. Of all the amazing stats in this series, the two that jump out are from last night’s first half, when the Celts so thoroughly throttled and out-hustled LA that Boston had more steals than the Lakers had field goals, and that LA missed 19 shots, going 8-27, and yet didn’t garner a single offensive rebound.

    Kevin Garnett deserves all sorts of credit for this defensive identity – he was the linchpin and the physical and emotional tone-setter. But stellar defensive play from KG is not surprising, nor is it surprising from Posey, or PJ, or, except for their youthful errors, Perkins and Rondo. But Paul Pierce and Ray Allen? Has either player put together a six-game stretch of defense even remotely as effective as these Finals? (The only answer I’ll accept is Pierce on LeBron two series earlier, and that still doesn’t come *that* close to topping his D vs. LA.) The Celts built their defensive identity on trust and grit, and then dug down for another notch of intensity and telepathy in the postseason. How many people, even among those who picked Boston to win, believed that Pierce and Allen with a big dollop of Posey would be able to shut down Kobe Bryant as a passer *and* a distributor for much of this series? I will never again regard either one as mediocre, never mind soft, on defense until age inevitably takes its toll.

    As much as this was a team-wide triumph, Pierce became a superstar in this series. By that I mean that he became whatever was required, like Tim Duncan hitting that trey to beat Phoenix about 8 weeks ago to begin these playoffs. Pierce was a point guard in the best sense of the description: He recognized and reacted to the opposing defense with acute versatility, decision-making and execution. Be it distribution, penetration, long-range shooting, pick-and-roll variation, tempo shifting (calming to catalytic and back to calming), even decoy – much more often than not, Pierce chose the right strategic option and then followed through brilliantly. I’d love to be inside his brain for just 24 hours, going over what I’d just done.

    Before this postseason, I always considered Allen primarily a catch-and-shoot player; against Detroit and LA, two long, quick teams, he expertly set up his jumper with dribble-drives and vice-versa. And what happened to his bad ankles 48 minutes in pivotal Game Four? Of all the Celtics, he was the most consistent.

    Posey has trailblazed one habit and reinforced another in today’s NBA. The innovation is realizing that when your opponent is striving for a continuation basket after being fouled, you can get a free lick in – how does that not get adopted by practically every defensive-oriented role player? The reinforcement is being money on the trey from the baseline, Bruce Bowen style. Every contender should have a guy with ice water in his veins for that spot-up corner trey, and yet the muscle and the moxie to drive baseline into the tall timber to foster some crucial hesitation on the close-outs. If I remember, Posey was more of a elbow-beyond-the-arc three point shooter in the past; these baseline treys are perfectly suited for his temperament and skill set. FWIW, I think Ryan Gomes has great potential to be a corner-trey shooter on the Wolves, continuing the franchise’s modest but noble tradition of Sam Mitchell, Malik Sealy, and back to Mitchell (and no, Tod Murphy doesn’t count).

    Of all the Big 3, Kevin Garnett elevated his game the least in the Finals. But then KG had the smallest distance to his ceiling, having finished third in the MVP voting and having already achieved MVP status four years ago. I made my feelings known about KG – my favorite current NBA player – in a three-pointer after Game Four. His shout-out to ‘Sota was meant for many readers of this blog, and you know who you are. As a player with a deserved rep for being amped to the max under pedestrian circumstances, it was a kick watching him trying to channel it all with Michelle Tafoya at the end of the game last night, and funny watching Stuart Scott nervously give him the once over on the awards podium after the game, then decide he didn’t want to risk a live interview. As much as I enjoyed the ‘Sota mention, the words that brought goosebumps were, "I’m certified! I’m certified! What you gonna say now?! We made it Mom!" He took that monkey off his back and tossed it in Kevin McHale’s direction.

    I won’t waste much time talking about the Lakers because it isn’t worth much time. I will concede that I overrated them *twice* – at the beginning of the series and then after Game Five, when Gasol and Odom showed a pulse in the paint and I thought they were gathering some momentum of the their own that might create some space for Kobe to operate on the perimeter for games six and (if necessary) seven. Speaking of burdens to bear, before this series there were whispers that Odom was flighty and Gasol was soft. After their shocking display of mutual enervation, people aren’t bothering to lower their voices when questioning their desire and grit now. These guys aren’t inexperienced like Perkins or Rondo; Odom is 28 and has been in the league 8 years; Gasol will turn 28 in three weeks and has 6 years in the NBA plus time in Europe. They’re not finished products, necessarily, but both fell into an ideal situation with the other plus Kobe sharing the court. They not only should be flourishing, they should be imposing their remarkable athletic skills on their opponents.

    Instead, in an elimination game last night, Odom had *zero field goals* after three quarters. Gasol had four turnovers in the *first quarter,* and, in the signature presaging moment of the night, was flattened by Garnett, who turned around and gently tossed it in the hoop with no whistle while Pau was prone. When KG is the more brutish player down low, it is time to go to your bench.

    Will Gasol and Odom recover f
    rom this stain? Too soon to tell. But their Finals will be defined by ugly memories of lackluster performances until and unless they ever get a chance to rewrite the crunchtime script.

    Let’s not sugarcoat it: The Lakers were a very unlikeable team in this series. I understand the venom emanating from Mark Jackson and Jeff Van Gundy and Jon Barry, because, as one who picked LA to win this series, I felt it myself. They played stupid, selfish, uncaring basketball. Vlad Rad, Vujacic and Farmar were absolutely dreadful – they didn’t guard anybody worth a damn, they eschewed the extra pass (Vujacic and Farmar actually bickered over backcourt touches – in the NBA Finals!) exercised terrible shot selection, and pretended passion in a manner so blatantly superficial you wanted to get right in their faces and shout WTF?!

    On that score, Phil Jackson needed to caffeinate the zen with a little fire and brimstone. Normally I’d be a little shy about dispensing advice to a guy with nine rings, but I can’t imagine anything I’d suggest working less well than whatever it was Jackson was trying to instill in his crew the past six games.

    And Kobe Bryant? Let’s brand him the Dirk Nowitzki of 2008 and call it a season.

  • NBA Finals Preview

    Anyone who has watched the two NBA conferences from November to April this season, and then watched the respective conference matchups in the postseason, would be hard-pressed to deny that the Lakers should be favored in the final series that begins this evening in Boston. But let’s begin by being counter-intuitive and considering the reasons–the legitimate reasons–for a potential Celtics upset. And no, I’m not talking about things like the Celts beating the Lakers in their only two meetings this season. Neither one occurred in calendar year 2008, and in the latest meeting, on December 30, Tony Allen led the Celts in minutes-played and plus/minus, and was effective at hounding Kobe Bryant into a 6-25 FG (0-6 3pt) performance. All you folks who think a reprise of that Tony Allen-Kobe Bryant matchup more than five months later, even if Allen hadn’t tweaked his achilles this week, would be a net plus for the Celts, are delusional homers who’d probably be more comfortable on a reflexively pro-Boston site.

    The frontcourt matchups are potentially very favorable for the Celts. Yes, L.A. is very long and quick up front, but Boston is uniquely well-qualified among NBA teams (well, along with Chandler/West/Peja in New Orleans, anyway) in their ability to counter it. After getting outhustled on the glass by Cleveland’s tag-teams of big men in the conference semis, Kendrick Perkins was huge–arguably the most important X factor–in the surprisingly efficient Boston triumph over Detroit. Perkins discovered a motivating passion in that series that gave his play a relentless tinge that was just shy of nasty–he cultivated an attitude that needed to be taken out of him physically, and none of the Pistons’ big men were up to the task–although thanks to Flip Saunders, Jason Maxiell didn’t get enough minutes to try. Now Perkins faces off against Pau Gasol, whose instincts are soft. Can Gasol mix it up? Sure, but that’s not his wont: He is at heart a finesse player, no less than KG. He is quicker than Perkins and if he can hit that 12-footer that wasn’t going in often enough against Tim Duncan and the Spurs, he might draw Perkins out just far enough to abuse him and put Perkins in foul trouble. Perkins also can’t do too much helping on Kobe Bryant, or Gasol will feed on Kobe’s garbage for putbacks and alley-oops that will swell his confidence. No, if Perkins is able to keep Gasol off the boards and limit his scoring to the short jumpers on post-ups and putbacks of long rebounds–and if Perkins can stick the occasional baseline jumper and bull for his own putbacks, as he did against Detroit–that negates what two weeks ago looked like a big Laker advantage. The question is, which Perkins shows up. I don’t think Gasol can take the starch out of him. I think there is a good chance he maintains his momentum. BTW, PJ Brown is also the kind of gritty blue-collar guy that can frustrate the hell out of Gasol.

    At the power forward slot, Lamar Odom is a matchup nightmare…for almost everyone but Kevin Garnett. Odom is a poor man’s KG in more ways than one: The incredible athleticism and versatility, and the shaky psyche and occasional crunchtime disappearance. If Garnett dedicates himself to moving his feet on defense (especially against Odom’s dribble penetration down the left lane), boxing out on the boards, and taking Odom down in the left block for his classic baseline-shoulder turnaround J’s and feint-toward-the-middle-reverse-up-and-under moves, Odom’s confidence, never a particularly rock-solid substance, melts and corrodes his skills and reactions. Now this presupposes a few things that are far from certain. One is that Garnett won’t be at least as preoccupied with helping out on guarding Kobe, particularly in cutting off penetration and showing on the pick and roll and triangle schemes. The dirty little secret in the Detroit series was that Garnett’s pick and roll defense was more facade than brick wall–he showed but never stayed, and the Pistons never made him pay for his no man’s land by either zipping in the pass before he could recover or sticking the semi-open jumper. Kobe and the triangle will feast on facade defense. The second thing is KG’s desire to launch midrange jumpers. If he doesn’t take Odom into the low block and either compel the double team or put Odom in the torture chamber, it will be a monumental strategic blunder. Put it this way, if Ronny Turiaf isn’t getting more time than Phil Jackson would prefer due to Gasol and Odom being plagued by fouls or otherwise overmatched, the Celts aren’t pressing their advantage and executing properly.

    At the small forward slot, I’d put Ray Allen on Vlad Rad and Paul Pierce on Kobe. Radmanovic does most of his damage from outside the arc anyway, which is where Allen roams, and if the Lakers are running post-ups to capitalize on his 5-inch height advantage over Allen, that’s a moral victory for the Celts–Vlad Rad on the block may be the 15th best offensive option for the Lakers.

    Which brings us to the all-important Kobe-Pierce matchup. The rehabitation of Pierce’s defensive reputation in these playoffs–first in dogging LeBron, then in adding to Tayshaun Prince’s postseason disappearing acts on offense–has been a great surprise to most observers, including me, that don’t buy Pierce’s contention that he’s always been an above-average defender. Okay PP, you’re 6-7, 235, can you stay with the 6-6, 205 Kobe or is he simply too quick for you? Personally, I think a dedicated Pierce limits Kobe more than Ray Allen certainly, and probably even James Posey, who although 6-8, 217, isn’t as quick as Pierce. Meanwhile, whether Kobe is guarding Pierce or Allen, that Big 3 member has to make Kobe exert himself and not play center field on D to conserve his energy.

    One more item in this Celtic scenario: the foot speed of Rajon Rondo over Derek Fisher. Both Fisher and Rondo have been fitfully inconsistent this postseason but in a good way–both have stepped up to have monster games, especially at crunchtime, at various points, and yet have almost totally disappeared at other times. Both have the capacity to embarrass the other–Rondo is too quick for Fisher, and Fish is light years ahead of Rondo in terms of experience and all that entails–composure, court vision, sneaky shortcuts on offense and defense, playing within himself, and overall maturity. If Rondo happens to come up huge in a nip-and-tuck contest, the Celts could steal one.

    I’ve listed these potential Celtic pluses in order of descending likelihood–in other words, I expect Perkins to control the paint against Gasol more than I expect Rondo to embarrass Fisher. The point is, the Celtics cause isn’t helpless. Yeah, they played in an inferior conference, but their record against the West was superb. They play suffocating team defense, the most chronically underrated aspect of pro hoops. They managed to win two series with their best outside threat enduring the worst slump of his 12-year career, and, like the Lakers, have never once trailed in this entire series.

    But the smart money–and mine, if I was betting–is on the Lakers for good reasons. In order of importance, here they are:

    * Kobe.

    Ten years from now, people will look back on this as the best season of his career, the year he finally understood what it meant to elevate himself by elevating his teammates, in ways that are as much mental/psychological/intuitive/selfless as they are physical and competitive. Kobe’s competitive fire and freakazoid athleticism have never been in question. Putting his arrogance in a positive context has often been the missing ingredient. But this year, and especially this postseason, the guy has not only been unstoppable–which isn’t exactly novel–but has figured out exactly when to seize the moment.

    Consider that Denver began the playoffs by throwing the thuggish K-Mart on Kobe, which worked for maybe a half, until Kobe found his rhythm and started shaking his head no with every jumper round about the third quarter. Then Utah–was there a team better equipped to go against K
    obe, what with AK-47, Ronnie Brewer, and Jerry Sloan’s elbows-and-knees defensive philosophy? Didn’t matter. Except for Game Four when he played hurt and tried to do too much at crunchtime, Kobe surmounted. Then San Antonio. The Jordan comparisons that have arisen out of that series are unfortunate, but offered up for a reason: Kobe destroyed the Spurs with game-altering elevations of his game not seen since Jordan. The bookends of Game One and Game Five should give the Celts serious pause. If Kobe keeps regulating his peaks and plateaus (there really are no valleys) to maximum advantage in terms of game flow and momentum psychology, there isn’t a credible counter-attack. Remember, the Celtics are all about low-scoring games. That makes a player who on certain occasions can score when he wants to all the more valuable.

    * Phil Jackson vs. Doc Rivers

     Doc Rivers is in the Finals, which means he can legitimately tell all his critics to kiss his ass–seriously, this is as far as the Celts are supposed to go, and if Flip Saunders had made it here, he’d still have a job. But Mike Woodson, Mike Brown and Flip Saunders are not remotely in the same time zone as Phil Jackson in terms of playoff coaching prowess, and neither is Doc Rivers. Jackson’s teams win the big ones–the dude has nine rings. When he sprang that small lineup on Gregg Popovich and the Spurs, it shifted the entire dynamic of the series, and salvaged Game One for the Lakers. When he steadfastly rested his three best players despite a steep first-half deficit in Game Five, he fortified his bench with his faith and conserved the energy of his stars for the second half comeback that clinched the series. For those who say that Jackson simply has great players, consider how many rings MJ, Kobe, and Shaq have won *without* Jackson. That would be one–Shaq’s in Miami, under Pat Riley.

    In my opinion, Rivers’ misuse of Eddie House in favor of Sam Cassell and chastising of Rondo for taking "heroic shots" in this postseason dramatize the talent gap between himself and the Zen Master. It is bad enough for Boston that Jackson is the better coach. He also has more, and more flexible, weapons at his disposal. Which brings us to…

    *Backcourt depth

    Cleveland and Detroit both exposed the Celtics’ thin backcourt and then inexplicably didn’t press that advantage–literally press it. Bluntly put–can either Cassell or House handle the pressure LA can bring with Vujacic and Farmar and Fisher and Walton and Kobe and Odom? If Rondo gets in foul trouble or simply needs a blow, who gets the Celts into the offense? By default it has to be Pierce–but if you’re Jackson, isn’t that when you appeal to Kobe’s competitive arrogance, tell him "LeBron couldn’t stop The Truth in Game Seven, so let’s see what you can do." And not just Kobe. Snipe with Farmar and Vujacic. Double hard with Odom.

    Unless Rondo plays all 48, how does Boston handle a Laker lineup of Vujacic, Farmar, Walton, Kobe and Odom? That gives Fisher and Gasol a breather and makes it extremely hard for the Celts to get into their offense. Or maybe swap in Fisher for Farmar, or Vlad Rad for Walton, or Gasol or Turiaf for Odom. The Laker bench is vastly superior to the Celtic bench, especially in the backcourt.

    I grew up with the Celts during the heyday of Bill Russell. I covered the Timberwolves every single one of KG’s dozen years in town, and I’d be less than honest if I said I’m not pulling for Boston so he can bag that trophy and permanently put to rest the whispers about his crunchtime primacy. But the other guys, the ones in gold and purple, have the best player. The best coach. More depth. Lakers in five or six.

  • Spurs Scrabble for Survival

    AP Photo/Matt Slocum

    It occurs to me that the best way to recap the first three games of the Spurs-Lakers series is to point out all the places I was wrong. There are plenty of examples so let’s get to it.

    * A high scoring series

    When I looked over the various matchups between San Antonio and LA, I foresaw a lot of offense. But last night’s combined 187 points has been the most prolific game of the three. Part of this is because the series has been played at a pace more to SA’s liking, which spells trouble for their current one-game deficit. Part of it is because both teams are missing more open looks than is customary (and it is different people different nights, although Odom and Parker have not been able to exploit what I perceived as their mismatches), a likely sign of fatigue and/or pressure. But the bulk of it is simply great defense, particularly by the Lakers in their Game Two blowout. I have never seen Parker’s penetration stymied so effectively, not only by Derek Fisher but by the bigs doubling and switching up coverages on the pick and roll.

    * A loooong series for Derek Fisher

    Fisher has not shone in Games One and Three, but he also hasn’t been toasted by Parker the way I thought it would happen. Again, the Lakers’ superb team D had a lot to do with that in Game Two, but Fisher’s foot speed has been better than I expected, and the vast improvement by Jordan Farmar, who has found his confidence again, is getting him more rest. If he and Farmar can cut the distance in point guard production between the two teams, the Lakers are in good shape.

    * Kobe would toast Bowen and Udoka equally

    Maybe it is just a prejudice against gritty, slow-footed vets, because I also underestimated Bruce Bowen’s value in this series, and overestimated how much Udoka could spell him. Doug Collins pointed out last night that Kobe salivates over getting Udoka as his matchup, and even as he spoke, Pops was getting Bowen up to guard the MVP. I think Bowen slipped a bit on defense during the regular season, and wasn’t that effective in either of the first two rounds. But his ability to slow Kobe down a titch and make him work for points and dimes has given San Antonio hope. Given Kobe’s maturity as a distributor, it is crucial that the double teams aren’t automatic and predictable. Bowen’s inexorable hustle has made that possible–and he’s even hit a few of those patented corner treys of his.

    * The Spurs would trade off nights from Ginobili for off nights from Odom

    Wrong again. Ginobili’s value to his team was borne out again last night–his catalytic role on the Spurs is vastly greater than Odom’s versatile and important, but not crucial, contributions to the Lakers, where he remains a distinct third option. That said, if Odom does start to get his act together, San Antonio is in trouble. What is frustrating for him is that he’s missing makeable shots.

    But back to Ginobili for a minute. First of all, the guy comes up big at the most important moments, giving San Antonio someone akin to a poor man’s Kobe. That’s huge. The fact that neither Detroit nor Boston boasts an equivalent presence (do you still believe Billups is Mr. Big Shot? and who on the Celtics side–Paul Pierce?) is one of many reasons why the trophy will likely be held aloft by a Western Conference team in about two weeks.

    But if you are looking for a reason why the Spurs are still in this series–and are a 18-minute collapse away from being up 2-1, check out how well Tim Duncan and the trio of Oberto-Thomas-Horry have defended Pau Gasol and Odom. Now Odom’s problems are becoming well documented–he’s getting ripped by most of the Laker media, with some justification. After shooting well over 50% in the first two rounds, he’s shot 12-33 in the three games thus far, or barely over 36%, this despite the fact that the Spurs don’t have a natural counter for his size and quickness. But Gasol’s underachievement has arguably been just as profound. He also was much better than 50% for the playoffs coming into the Spurs series, and the dip to 46.5% (20-43 FG) is exacerbated by the facts that his shot selection has been generally solid–he’s missing makeable attempts–and that he has only gotten to the free throw line 5 times in the three games, after shooting 59 FTA in the previous 10 playoff games. He’s also grabbing two fewer rebounds per game, his assists rate has been cut in half, and his defense on Duncan has been, as expected, inconsistent. These dips bear watching as Gasol continues much deeper into the postseason than he has ever been before.

    Before we look at the Spurs side of the ledger, I want to point out something about Jordan Farmar and Sashia Vujacic, who provided such a great lift off the bench in Games One and Two, but much less so last night: They’ve both been gunning fools. Give Farmar credit for being LA’s third-leading scorer (10.7 ppg) in this series despite averaging only 20.7 mpg, a testament to his gaudy 11-21 FG shooting. But Farmar, the backup point guard, has zero assists in 62 minutes. Even on a team where Kobe Bryant justifiably hogs the ball and which features the triangle offense that reduces the importance of a point guard, you’d think Farmar would have dropped at least one dime. Maybe there’s a connection between the low shooting percentages of Gasol and Odom and the jack-it-up philosophy of Farmar and Vujacic, who rank 8th and 7th, respectively, in assists-per-minutes played among the nine Lakers who logged double digit minutes of court time thus far in the series (Vlad Rad is last).

    By contrast, little used Brent Barry came off the bench last night and delivered four assists in 21 and a half minutes without a turnover, chipped in a pair of treys and was plus +11. Properly derided for his shooting, Horry’s defense on Odom and tenacity in the paint got him plus +11 in 18 minutes. Add to the bigness of the Big 3–Ginobili had 30 and sparked the resurgence with a pair of first quarter treys; Duncan pulled a 20-20 game (actually 22-21) and is averaging more than 18 board per game in the series, and Parker was a game-best plus +26–and these savvy veteran role players have an acute appreciation of what is required to bag a ring. The Lakers are without question the more talented of the two teams, especially in the depth of their talent. But with the obvious exception of Kobe, and Fisher, they don’t know what it takes to win this deep into the postseason.

    Specifically, they didn’t realize Pops would emphasize nothing but offense–an unprecedented move for the coach–in the practice between Games Two and Three, to counter the sliding traps and pick-and-roll D that Phil Jackson had instituted so effectively. And they didn’t appreciate how many times San Antonio has been counted out in the past few years, only to come up big when it counts. It will really count in Game Four tomorrow night. Will Kobe decide to seize the game with a 30-shot effort, something his miraculous 4th quarter stint in Game Three indicates might be a way to vanquish the Spurs in San Antonio, or will he continue distributing and hope his backcourt mates follow his lead and that his front line finally comes to play in the paint? I’m guessing a little of both, and that the wild cards for the two ballclubs–Ginobili and Odom–will determine the winner.

    But, as we noted at the outset, I’ve been wrong before.

     

    Tomorrow, a look at the Celts-Pistons after four games.