Fraternizing with the Enemy continues to go back-and-forth just as much as this wild Western Conference Finals series. After the Spurs appeared out of gas in Game 5 against the Thunder and now face an elimination game in San Antonio, I discussed with Cray Allred of the Daily Thunder what he observed and any potential concerns going forward — both about the teams on the court and the flaws this series has exposed in certain NBA procedures (such as *cough* the rudimentary way coaches have to call for a challenge).
J.R.
The night that Wemby misses a dunk in transition isn’t your night. The night that Castle smokes a wide open layup isn’t your night. And when the refs miss an OKC goal tending call plus two out of bounds calls (one that Mitch Johnson tried to challenge and they didn’t grant resulting in a three-point play on the other end, including Mitch’s tech) then you might want to consider the possibility that the evening in question doesn’t belong to you.
I’m not going to gripe about the calls the refs make because once you start that it’ll never end. Literally. You become convinced that the refs and the league are against your team and down that path, madness lies. And by madness, I mean becoming convinced that every call that goes against you is part of a conspiracy that the league has to fulfill vengeance against your team for some undefined grievance. I know, because I lived that. But that’s a story for another day.
So I don’t let myself go there again, but I do allow myself to criticize the systems the league has in place, because the league changes rules and that can make the games more fair. (Or at least more difficult to complain about.) Point in case, I griped about Zaza Pachulia sliding under Kawhi Leonard and taking him out of the series. Then they changed the rule. Now shooters are protected. You might say they’re overly protected, but there’s not such thing as a “make it fair” button. It’s either going to be too dangerous or too safe. So, you might as well err on the side of safety.
Here’s my new gripe. The league needs to have a button that coaches can press to stop the play from starting or a flag to throw on the court. That way we’re not subject to refs hearing or acknowledging a coach in order for a challenge to officially granted.
How about you? What gripe do you have that a new rule would alleviate and improve the game?
Cray
One thing I hope we can agree on: the San Antonio and Oklahoma City markets are not where Adam Silver and the NBA want to conspire to. The reason the league will run through our teams is that they have acquired and developed the best talent, without needing the free agency and trade levers used by bigger market teams that used to rule the league. (Lakers, Clippers, Rockets, Wolves, and Warriors, to name a few). The teams that the Thunder and Spurs have left in the dust.
I’d be okay with giving coaches a cleaner play stoppage lever for challenges. Teams already stall and delay the game while coaches decide whether to call timeout and twirl their fingers, which feels silly to watch as a viewer.
I’m actually against rule changes by default. I’m a bigger believer in the law of unintended consequences than I am of the idea we can shape the way the game looks and feels with more policy work.
I much prefer legitimate points of emphasis within the rulebook. In the second half of the 2023-2024 season, the refs obviously started swallowing their whistle to allow defenders to crowd and all-but-handcheck perimeter offensive players. It pissed everyone off because they denied it loudly in public before quietly acknowledging in a league memo to the governors. Then in the 2024 offseason, the NBA told its teams that this was the new reality: referees would be using their judgement to favor more physical and contact-heavy play, slowing the runaway offensive numbers getting juiced by three-point spamming.
Rick Carlisle warned us. Teams like the Pacers, Thunder, and Spurs leaned into the advantages that physical defenders like Nembhard, Nesmith, Caruso, Cason, Castle, and Vassell gave them. Fans watching their teams get ripped to shreds by these elite modern defenses aren’t blaming their front offices, of course, because blaming the refs is a much more soothing pastime.
So I’m dubious of rule changes, but I don’t hate change. What I hate is the unwillingness to make things better within the rules. We all know that the typical summer “points of emphasis” usually last through the preseason and then fade away when the games matter. Meanwhile there are tools to counter plenty of things jeopardizing the competition and NBA product; the league just doesn’t use them. Cap circumvention. The rot of gambling influence. Flopping fines. Injuries to stars piling up in the war against DNP-TV. But instead, the league is spending most of its fix-it energies concocting a new formula for ping pong balls.
It definitely wasn’t your night, just like Game 4 wasn’t ours. I’m surprised that the consensus reaction is that we’ve advanced even further into the greatest chess match ever. Don’t you think it’s more simply that the teams with the most desperation have played much better at home? That’s how I’d chalk up most of the individual performances, including from our two most valuable players: Victor Wembanyama and Jared McCain
J.R.
There is definitely room for the chess match, no doubt. And I’ll tell you that I’ve dived deeper into the pool of analysis videos in an attempt to better understand the tactics behind this game I’ve been watching for the last 40-some years. (Wow that’s a long time.) But Tuesday night seemed to pivot largely on effort. So many plays were made by OKC in which the same force just wasn’t being exerted by the visiting team in general, and oddly Wemby specifically.
There were far too many plays where I expected Vic to elevate and swat the ball away from the basket, but he just watched his opponent take a trip to the rim. Definitely not what I’ve grown accustomed to over the year, and I think I have to put my vote in the “he’s exhausted” group.
Oddly, that doesn’t make me feel less optimistic about Game 6. After the Thunder win in San Antonio, I found myself having issues maintaining my hope, but I don’t feel that right now. Maybe that’s delusion, but it feels like San Antonio will take the next one. I’m definitely concerned about his Game 7 but why should I even be thinking about that when the Spurs are facing elimination for the first time since DeMar DeRozan was a Spur? Maybe I’m exhausted too.
Ok, tell me what concerns you about G6 and how you’re dealing with it.
Cray
To be clear, I love the Thunder’s chances to win one of two. I’m in the “Wemby’s exhausted” camp with you, and San Antonio hasn’t put together two straight games with the intensity needed to best the champs. The Thunder have thinned, but they’re still deeper and fresher. And I believe in Shai+whoever to land a knockout punch, given two shots at the up and comers.
There’s still plenty of cause for concern. Game 5’s offensive explosion masked some cracks in the defense for OKC, which had kept them in the series through four. An elimination Game 6 should be the boost of all boosts for the Spurs, even if they’re gassed. And if you get to a Game 7, anything can happen. Cold shooting. Foul trouble. Injury. Lemon booty. And if it’s close, the kind of game-deciding bad call we’ve somehow avoided so far. The kind of stuff you can’t get over for 40 years of fandom. And all of that is more likely with Jalen Williams and Ajay Mitchell still unavailable.
Outside of random, crazy, heartbreaking playoff possibilities, both Wemby and Dylan Harper still scare me. The Spurs hung close for most of Game 5 with both of them struggling. Wemby digging deep to find another gear is something the greats all eventually get around to. Harper could recover more health, or energy, or confidence, whatever combination of those things are holding him back.
Though I do sense a shift in the Spurs’ self-belief, an essential part of what has made them so great this season. I told you I admired you that Wemby practicing against simulation hack-a-defense and Mitch Johnson’s refusal to make excuses after Game 2. I’ll add to the list Devin Vassell’s jovial comments about each team getting away with what the refs allow after Game 4. I’m not going to pile on Stephon Castle for complaining about the whistle, or Wemby for skipping the postgame, or Thunder legend Mason Plumlee for doing goonwork in Game 5’s closing moments (as quoted by NBA media correspondent and TikTok sensation, Jared McCain). But taken together, I don’t think the vibes from the Spurs reek of confidence and composure as they face down elimination.
Feel free to stand up for any of those guys if you think I’m being unfair, or recommend me your favorite Spurs alternate mascot or side story that helps lighten your spirits amid the grind of the playoffs. Are the nuns the most fun? The jackals? A deeper cut? (We disavow Thundor in my household but McCain, the public figure, brings us joy.)
