Top 9s: Thoughts on the Finals

Whoa.

That was an NBA Finals.

A heavily-contested seven-game exchange of haymakers between two iconic juggernauts.

Not only a title, but legacies were on the line, and it played out beautifully.

While a few of the series' games didn't need a second half, and Miami spent most of it mired in inconsistency, it was the adjustment-fueled unpredictability of this matchup, and its ability to deliver a dramatic turn of events at every crucial juncture, that made it so compelling. It went kind of like this on a basketball court (with Dwyane Wade playing the role of Joffrey as he ridiculously nicknames his new sword "Heart-Eater").

I'm still trying to wrap my head around Game 6. I've spent countless hours watching basketball, and can't confidently say I've ever seen a more crucially thrilling 4th quarter, one that will probably go down as the most definitive moment in LeBron James' legacy. He'd spent most of the game playing passively; pulling up for jumpers when he was ice cold and displaying a similar lack of touch when he seldom got to the hoop. Then the 4th came, as if it were pre-ordained by Erik Spoelstra telling Doris Burke "We need our best defensive quarter of the season". They got it, erasing a 10-point deficit with LeBron not only putting up several massive plays on D but - ironically stripped of his hairline-guard - channeling Ether Mode out of nowhere, scoring at will, saving his team's season and altering history. 

Without that performance, the Heat's season (and when I say "Heat", I basically mean LeBron) becomes a footnoted failure along the NBA annals; their boisterous and flamboyant union of superstars in South Beach would ultimately be looked upon as a bust of style over substance and hype over hoops. James boldly re-wrote what seemed to be another off-chapter in his career; he solidified the next level in an already Top-10 All-Time career, and swiftly changed the popular offseason discussion from "When will he just get it consistently in the Finals?" to "He might go down as the best basketball player ever". That LeBron came out guns blazing from beyond the arc in Game 7 (I was waiting for him to turn around and shrug as he jogged downcourt) was a fitting cap to a memorable Playoff run in which he solidified himself as, if nothing else, the most dynamically dominant player in NBA history.

It would be ignorant not to tip a hat to the Spurs (although it's definitely possible that the backup point guard of the Houston Rockets was the biggest contributor to their Playoff run). Every year they continue to defy father time and popular opinion, and were a transcendent, historic takeover by an unstoppable player away from a 5th Pop/Duncan title over 14 years. That's fucking impressive. Way may not have even seen the last of them yet, but how San Antonio manages to continue performing at this level is one of sports' greatest complex marvels.

There's plenty more to be said about this series, I could go on for days. To spare my fingers - and your tolerance for my rantings -  I'll keep it to nine things that stood out to me (other than LeBron) in these Finals, a Championship Edition of the Top 9s:

9. Manu's Officially Fallen Off

The guy who was the easy bet as the first Spurs' star to slow down indeed has confirmed early indications that San Antonio's "Big 3" are now a busted tripod. Game 5 was a renaissance to his glory days, but it came almost as a shock (if such a thing was possible in this series) and was evidently a flash in the pan, as Ginobili returned to inconsistent, selective scoring over the last two games, while turning the ball over like bed sheets in a Vegas hotel. Kawhi Leonard is  unquestionably now the Spurs' third-best player (more on that in a moment) and Popovich/Buford should give serious thought to how much they can invest long-term in the Free Agent who performed so inconsistently down the stretch of the postseason. At 35, with a total of 18 pro seasons under his belt, it's a virtual certainty he won't be getting better. 

8.Javie the Hutt

NBA officiating is an extremely difficult, high-pressure job with massive implications; one that isn't made any easier when the context of fouls - the most common call in the game - can often change almost nightly. The inconsistency in officiating's been an issue plaguing the Playoffs annually, as warped calls distort the game's context and affect outcomes (like Ginobili's potentially series-altering no-call at the end of Game 6). 

Luckily a very smart individual at ESPN decided to toss the recently-retired Steve Javie a headset and let him help bridge the gap between reality and that strange alternate universe officials occasionally drift off into where only superstars shoot free throws, and a player grimacing excitedly after a big dunk can get him T'd up. Javie's well-spoken, impartial and offers not only an experienced perspective on the difficulties of the job that can lead to blown calls, but serves as a sort of watchdog against officials who might get over-zealous and try to take over games with the whistle. At least on national TV. 

7. Erik Spoelstra "clicking buttons"

As an addicted dedicated online poker player, I've gradually become immersed in a vast lexicon of strange vernacular. One of the more self-explanatory terms - "clicking buttons" - refers to a player who's just randomly splashing around without any sort of consistent strategy, waywardly tapping  his mouse and keyboard, making wild bet sizes with junk hands as though he's excited just to see what will happen.

This seemed to be Spo's M.O. throughout most of the series, as Popovich continually out-coached him and he responded by frantically throwing different lineups at San Antonio in an almost trial-and-error fashion, before finally arriving at the Game 6 4th-Quarter set that spaced the floor ideally for LeBron and was quick enough to rotate against the Spurs' passing.

He failed to develop a scheme to contain Danny Green for five games (if it happens for one game, it's probably the players' fault, if it happens for five it's definitely the coach's), randomly went small with Mike Miller instead of Shane Battier, took too long to realize the Birdman just wasn't flying against Timmy D, before benching him and then re-inserting him in a panic for Game 6 only to have basically the same thing happen.  Miami won this series almost in spite of him as Pop exploited the sideline matchup in ways Spo couldn't counter.

6. Dwyane Wade might be my least favorite player in the NBA

When the Heat assembled this trio, Wade was the squeaky-clean one; the GQ-rated, ring-having King of South Beach, who'd "brought them together" and hadn't left a city/country of pissed off fans behind him. Times have certainly changed; LeBron's stolen the keys to the team and city from Wade, who's developed a troubling pattern of arrogant, annoying behavior while oscillating between past and future versions of his basketball ability.

He whines constantly to the refs, probably more than any other NBA player. He makes dumb public statements, like he should be paid for the Olympics. He plays with an irritating sense of entitlement that isn't his anymore; a common ball-stopper who launches predictable, out-of-sync mid-long range jumpers as though they're his bread 'n butter, and when he plays like crap, he deflects it on LeBron or screams at his coach. 

Dressing as obnoxiously as he often chooses to while attempting to give himself an equally dumb and narcissistic nickname as a promotional tie-in for his new shoe deal don't make him any more likeable, nor does the fact that he dates a woman who's hypnotized any man (and probably more than a few women) who's seen movies on BET.

What's most disappointing about Wade is that he generally behaves with about 20% of the poise, maturity and charisma that he had before James and Bosh showed up, like he's regressed to an immature child that needs to show off for his friends. A guy who was once respected league-wide has become a pretentious crybaby while his consistency continues to slip. And his team played better without him when it mattered most. 

5. Kawhi Leonard is really, really good

While Ginobili and Wade represented the fading legends of these Finals, Leonard used the series as his launching pad from "Alpha Role-Player" to "Probable All-Star", teaming with Boris Diaw to confound LeBron for large stretches, while scoring in a variety of ways, and both passing and rebounding extremely well for a player his size.

A recent Grantland article chronicled the Leonard/George Hill swap as both were playing a crucial role for teams in the Conference Finals and it appeared to be a mutually beneficial move. The added layer was that Indiana had almost traded for Hill the previous season, but backed out to keep their draft pick and use it on some guy named Paul George who just reeked of NBA potential. Having George developing on the wing made it easier for Indiana to part with Leonard's rights, allowing the Spurs to acquire a player whose career ceiling - after these Finals - doesn't look much different from PG's lofty potential.

Everything about him impresses me; not only the variety of ways in which he can impact a game, but how he keeps a constant even-keel. He always stays cool and plays within himself, accepting whatever is asked of him by his team and performing with the poise of a veteran. At 21. It seems remarkable, but then you remember that these are the Spurs, that the words "character guys" and "draft steals" are the core of their franchise, and it becomes perfectly standard. 

4. Like a Bosh

Bosh's Finals performance - much like Wade's - was a generally disappointing inability to get himself going consistently. He put up a donut in Game 7 (yeah, he didn't score at all) missing easy jumpers and drawing the ire of Miami's fickle crowd after they had to watch Tim Duncan just completely sodomize him for 36 minutes of Game 6. But in between those two disasters, he delivered on three plays - two blocks and an offensive rebound - that respectively indirectly and very directly, saved Miami's season.

As simple and amusing as it is to poke fun at a guy who makes himself such a target consistently, I kind of feel for Bosh, as he's had to make massive sacrifices for this team. Not only did he slide from a first to third option in joining the Heat, but eventually was asked to step outside his comfort zone and position, basically playing a pseudo-center to help keep the floor spaced with shooters, the lane open for James and Wade, and as many runners on the floor as possible for the Heat's suffocating, uptempo play. The result has sometimes often left Bosh in compromising positions on defense and the offensive glass against larger, longer, more physical players, not helping his reputation around the league as somewhat of a, well, a bitch. While Bosh is hated on and joked about, he still plays a vital role on this team; one that now has "not one..." but two titles, so he's not getting it all wrong.

Case in point were his uncharacteristic blocks of the Spurs' attempts to steal back a game he kept alive with his team's Playoff life flat-lining. Bosh had every reason not to own that moment - he'd been getting worked all game, played awful for most of the series, and was never particularly known as a strong defender or mentally fortuitous competitor. But he, against most odds, still managed to come up with unexpected contributions at the most vital of times. So for now, he should hold his head high and be happy. For once. At least until something like this happens.

3.The Legend of Danny Green

Danny Green's unconscious 3-point explosion over the first five games was a perfect storm of applicable catalysts. A very good shooter was often the last focus on D, and not only moved impeccably well on cuts to create space for himself, but happened to play on a team where the "extra pass" was a given.

What he did to Miami was spellbinding, not only in the obvious impressiveness of his record-shredding run, but the Heat's complete and utter inability to just stay at home against him, and eliminate a looming liability. Spo was tossing so much help in the paint against Duncan/Parker that Green could just break across a baseline underneath all the action and emerge on the other side with 10 feet of openness.

All it really took was the simple rationalization that "We've left this guy open and he's been their

leading scorer so far. He can't really create for himself or others off the dribble, so maybe if we just   acknowledge how he's burnt us so far and stop leaving him on the wing, he won't be as effective".

The results spoke for themselves. Green failed to develop any kind of consistent rhythm, settling for mostly-contested jumpers and looking like a small child lost at the mall whenever he put the ball on the floor. He shot a combined 2-19 over the Final two games while scoring fewer total points than he had in any lone Finals contest. Miami won both those games. Obviously the former didn't completely cause the latter, but it was certainly a massive contribution, and an obvious adjustment that came late - almost too late - for Miami. 

2. Effort vs. Execution
The simplest way of breaking down these Finals is that they were a war of constant adjustment with both teams putting each other in precarious positions - San Antonio by playing near-flawless basketball for large chunks of this series, and Miami by working their edge in athleticism when it was most critical.

I use the words "most critical" very carefully because through a lot of this season, particularly the Playoffs, it seemed as though Miami needed to be backed into a corner in order to truly play their best basketball. They often seemed almost arrogantly nonchalant in their lack of investment; everyone watching knew this team had a higher gear. To their credit though, they shifted into that gear consistently when they had to, and though their season had to be threatened several times, the brilliance with which the Heat played under the chaos of urgency, time and time again, was unreal.

As simple as it is to say the more talented team won, it would be a fallacy. Miami's Big 3 united and all played championship basketball for exactly one game of this series. Both Wade and Bosh were below 100% as they struggled to take the heat off LeBron (pun completely intended). What kept them going were King James, and a rotating cast of supporting players being thrown through Spoelstra's Finals Lineup Randomizer Machine, and each came up big at times.

And when it came down to it, Miami was able take enough hits and not only stay on their feet, but summon the will to take it to the next level against a team that gave them every reason to think they couldn't win.

1. The End of the Era

Lost amid the excitement of the Finals was that this would be David Stern's last trophy presentation. The legendary commissioner has grown the NBA's popularity immeasurably since taking over in 1984, re-engineered pro basketball into a marketable, exciting product. There couldn't have been a more fitting farewell for him than this ratings-smash of a seven-game, superstar-filled, thrillingly media-hyping series.

When Stern took over as commish, the NBA Finals were shown on tape delay as a more-than-slightly-racist American public was having trouble buying into a league of coked-out mostly-black athletes who brawled constantly and played for stats and contracts over wins and championships. Today - as he not-so-subtly pointed out before handing over the trophy that will one day bear his name - the Finals are watched by many millions in countries around the World. Much can be said of his tactics, but it's largely because of Michael Jordan David Stern that his beautiful game has grown and flourished, to be appreciated by so many globally; its dynamic popularity a reflection of its true entertainment value.

And so Stern rides off into the sunset (well, he doesn't officially retire until next February, but it has to be assumed Adam Silver will begin sliding into his new role) his run capped by an epic blockbuster he can proudly look upon as having fostered through decades of hard work. As basketball fans, we should be thankful for Stern. And for these Finals. It was one of the best ever, and a privilege to watch. 

Media Day: A Tribute to Gregg Popovich

Being a card-carrying NBA media member would be a pretty cool job.

Having not only a behind-the-scenes look at all the action, but the ability to interact with players and staff, and get the scoop on everything from a critical late-game play to who lost the most gambling on the last team flight, is a pretty enviable way to cut a check for a lot of people reading this (not to mention the one writing it).

Of course with every job comes drawbacks, and if you're a reporter who covers the San Antonio Spurs or any team they happen to be playing (let's just say you're Gary George of the Inland Valley News ), then your job will, by default, expose you to the wrath of Gregg Popovich.

Pop's always been a firm believer that dumb questions require like answers, and unfortunately for any press member trying to pick his brain, he finds just about every morsel of quote-bait thrown his way insulting to his immensely superior intellect. He trolls hapless questions from sideline reporters (see below) as they try to awkwardly force conversation mid-game, and when he looms above from the podium afterwards - particularly following a loss - there's sure to be dismissive responses rained upon those below.
                                                                                                                                                                                                       


Popovich's post-game pressers are as entertaining a sideshow as exists in the NBA. Almost routinely, queries of varying dubiousness are brushed off with glib sarcasm and requests for better questions, as reporters seemingly walk on eggshells to avoid displeasing him. While this might give Texas-area beat writers nightmares, it's an added layer of humor for NBA fans, and a refreshing contrast to typical "in the box" media interaction.

Pop's as much of a multi-facted threat on the podium as Tim Duncan is in the post; not only will he pull no punches as he unloads as much (or little) of his true thoughts on any topic, but he delivers them with an astonishingly blunt matter-of-factness that comes across as equal parts condescending, mystified, and unintentionally hilarious. He'll spend several minutes demolishing hopeful suitors in dry monotone, and just when you think he's an emotionless asshole, he'll drop a quick one-liner and flash a quick smile that lightens the entire mood and makes one reporter's week.

You could call Popovich's brash response to a mandatory aspect of his job arrogance, and you'd probably be right. But the simple truth is that he probably deserves to be. The consistent excellence that the Spurs have performed with during his tenure is a testament to just how well he understands all aspects of successful basketball. Sure, San Antonio got lucky landing Timmy D (and lucky as in not only fluking a bad season due to an Admiral injury, but then defying the odds in the lottery, and doing both in the same year one of the most can't-miss prospects ever is atop the draft board), but every move made since by Popovich and running-mate RC Buford has been an intelligent, carefully-measured maneuver to get the most out of Duncan's career, and the fact that they're vying for a fifth title in 14 years - never having missed the Playoffs - speaks for itself.

Every evolution of this Spurs quasi-dynasty has been shrewdly-cobbled through ridiculous Draft steals (Tony Parker, Manu Ginobili, apparently Kawhi Leonard), and a solid mix of athletic youth and veteran role-players, acquired only if their skills and mentality fit the Spurs' system and allowed them to operate more seamlessly and consistently than any team in professional sports. The man keeping everything flowing smoothly together clearly gets basketball on a level higher than we do, and he doesn't have time for our stupid fucking questions.

Sure it might not be nice, but it's often really funny. So unless we're the ones on the other side of his mic, it's a show worth enjoying.

2013 Finals Preview: Are the Heat Hot Enough?

In 2007, a then-Cavalier named LeBron James dragged a pitiful Cleveland roster through a shallow East Playoff bracket, as its lone star, to his first Finals; a showdown with the San Antonio Spurs. What ensued was a swift, abrupt lesson in team execution as the Spurs swept the Cavs in demoralizing fashion. LeBron would never return to the Finals with Cleveland, a team he ultimately deemed wasn't to his standards.

Fast-forward six years, several MVPs, one Decision, a one-way ticket to South Beach, and two Finals appearances later, LeBron is suddenly getting those "Cleveland" feelings again, his brilliance being contrasted by disappointing play from those around him. Despite this, he finds himself back in the Finals, and sure as the sky's blue and the dirt brown, waiting there for him again are the Spurs. Some things change, some things stay the same.

One such thing; David Stern consistently dodging disaster. Rumblings of referee incompetence were forcing a Game 7 that could potentially commit a Red Wedding-style massacre on his final Finals' ratings as commissioner, but the Heat stung a decisive win against the superstar-less, small-market Pacers, moving on to battle the Spurs in a matchup that's really about more than this season's title.

For Miami, it's a validation of what they've constructed. This season's team was Small-Ball at its apex;  a pressure-filled flurry of transition alley-oops and multiple-pass diversion plays that epitomized the NBA's emerging skill-over-size trend. A win in this series would bolster their 27-game win streak and last year's title; it would put them among some of the truly memorable teams on a historic level. This is important for Miami because the Decision-fueled hype of Summer 2010 set the bar on an unprecedented level for this team, and anything short of historic resonance will be seen as a failure of not only what they put together, but how.

For the Spurs, it's a chance to resonate on an even greater level. They've spent the last 14 years, in the face of the largest fanbase of on-the-low hatred in professional sports, quietly, methodically, arguably becoming the greatest dynasty in the modern era of professional sports. A fifth title in as many Finals appearances over such a stretch with the same coach/superstar combo would be an unprecedented feat in any league, and would further pad Tim Duncan's already Top 10 All-Time resume.

For the NBA it's a very marketable, star-filled clash of Old vs New School; one with two evenly-matched, highly-skilled and well-coached two-way teams who both present several matchup issues for each other, and can not only dictate but adapt well to a game's change in tempo. In other words: this series is guaranteed not to be a flop (we've seen enough flopping in these Playoffs), and has the potential to be truly memorable.

This Finals obviously has to start with LeBron James, the reigning MVP/Finals MVP/possible Transformer who can dominate games in more ways than any player perhaps ever. He'll be the focal point of this series, both on the court and in the social mediasphere, and his team's chances appear to hinge heavily on his ability to maintain what I call "Ether Mode". The good news for him is that he's just defeated a team that between Paul George's dynamic coverage and Roy Hibbert's "Verticality" was ideally equipped to defend him. The bad news is that the Spurs are capable of not only suffocating defense, but thrive on half-court offensive efficiency that would've easily buried the Miami team that showed itself for most of the Pacers series; one that will not only challenge their team D much more, but be far less willing to cough up the ball for the transition buckets the Heat thrive on. So LeBron's isn't in for a cakewalk, as he'll have to not only excel on offense consistently, but potentially cover several defensive mismatches .

If Miami can take something away from the fact that a one-way team with an absolutely pitiful bench just dragged them to a seventh game, it's that they faced real adversity and a sense of urgency for the first time all season and overcame it. Not only were Bosh and Wade just awful, but drawing the ire of LeBron, who took public pot shots at his teammates as the Heat's chemistry - which as had been schizophrenic prior to this season - appeared to be coming undone. The response to the threat of elimination was an immediate return to their winning style - exploiting and attacking Indiana instead of falling into their halfcourt tempo - and an emphatic win that righted their momentum. Which is good for them because they'll need it; The Spurs are playing extremely well as a team, and are more rested than Gregg Popovich ever could've plotted for at this point in the season.

Tony Parker's most recent performance was a filleting of an NBA All-D 2nd-Teamer, so Miami has to be immediately concerned about how to contain him. Mario Chalmers is long on the perimeter, but kind of slow. Norris Cole is quick and energetic, but not an incredible fundamental defender. Dwyane Wade is a phenomenal defender on his best day, but today (or at least most of the past two weeks) is far from that day.
Parker's ability to pick apart Miami off the dribble will highlight both strengths and weaknesses of their team D. Miami has very little rim protection, and if Parker is able to get to the hole at will, he'll make life difficult for them by forcing a defensive collapse on the paint - that San Antonio is all-too-well known for picking apart with crafty passing and the infamous Corner Three. To the Heat's credit, they're perfectly-built to play that kind of high-movement, switch-heavy scheme on D, and will ensure more resistance than Memphis did.

The ability of their post tandem to handle Tim Duncan also has to be a huge concern after Chris Bosh played like one of those flamingo lawn ornaments for most of the East Finals. Timmy D's not only going to be fresh, but exploit every single edge Miami gives him; their coverage will have to be multi-faceted. He's enough of a scoring threat to warrant double-teams, especially against the Heat's front line, but an equally dangerous passer both within and out of the post. Again, this primarily attacks a fundamental weakness of Miami's, but they're well-equipped to defend the secondary by doubling down on Duncan and rotating quickly enough to cover open shooters/passing lanes. Interior passing will be a serious issue for them however; Tiago Splitter tore the Grizzlies apart when Gasol sat and the Arthur/Randolph combo couldn't hold water against Duncan's dual threat, and Miami's similar (only perpetual) lack of size could leave them more exposed against a team whose bigs both pass and finish extremely well close to the hoop (In fact, don't be entirely surprised if LeBron ends up covering Duncan for some stretches if he's got fouls to give).

Manu Ginobili will be the Finals' obvious Wild Card; while he's been a hobbled shadow of himself as the Playoffs have wore on, the week+ off will have given him a chance to recharge and bring a new level of energy and pressure to the Heat perimeter. Miami's periodic offensive dysfunction in the East Finals went largely unpunished when Indiana's bench was struggling to pass to the right team, let alone put the ball in the basket. Manu at his best is a one-man firing squad who can ignite a second unit by himself and is savvy enough to create hoops for any teammate, and his potential highlights another issue for Miami: Depth.

San Antonio can wear teams down by out-manning them, going the whole way down their bench with players tailor-fit to specific roles and matchups. Conversely, Miami's bench reads like a gradually-declining list of the same skill sets, each player not only becoming more ineffective, but cobweb-ridden during their playoff run. Joel Anthony is a prime example of a player who might see extended minutes (to stop the bleeding Duncan's likely to inflict), but will force the Heat out of their comfort zone and into a 4 on 5 offense.

So what does Miami have going for them?

First off, Chris Bosh should be in a slightly more comfortable state, and the same can be said for Dwyane Wade. Both were pitted against larger, more physical defenders against Indy, and Bosh in particular drew the brunt of Hibbert's abuse in the low post, and the hit his ego took obviously permeated into his confidence on offense as he struggled consistently (which sort of explains why he was so happy when he finally managed to hit a shot in Game 7, as seen to the right). While Duncan's obviously far more skilled than Hibbert, he's also primarily a finesse player, one who caters to Bosh a bit more. Indiana took Christopher so far out of his comfort zone on one end that he couldn't establish it on the other, and the result was some of Miami's worst ball of the season.

Wade was likewise ineffective, appearing a step slow and out-of-sync with James, partly due to Indiana's League-best defense, as well as a (relative) rift between the BFFs, with the two taking not-so-indirect shots at each other through the media. Game 7's win was surely enough to squash whatever was going on there. Ever since the 2nd-half turnaround in Game 4 of last year's Indiana series - the one where Wade and James were human portrayals of the CPU that just won't let you win in Madden or 2K - their occasionally mercurial on-court synergy has usually been at (or near) its best when most needed, as though they know they have a gear above everyone else and confidently engage it. These Finals will require it consistently.

While the Spurs have a depth advantage, Miami certainly has the talent and athleticism to force their hand with it. Their frenetic play on both sides of the ball can wear teams down and rack up fouls, which will be a very dramatic shift from the pace Memphis just allowed San Antonio to get so comfortable in. They'll be forced to chase a lot more on D, battle for plenty more defensive boards, and be giving up an athleticism edge at almost every position, which mandates hard work regardless of how small Miami is. While the Spurs have the deeper bench, Miami's supporting cast has the higher ceiling, and if guys like Chalmers and Battier are able to get into consistent rhythms and make defensive impacts, San Antonio could be in trouble.

Having the most complete player in NBA history (let's just kill this "Potential G.O.A.T" talk and call him what he is) leading your team is obviously a significant advantage; a guy who can not only win a game by himself, but can do it in several ways simultaneously. Kawhi Leonard will spend the most time covering LeBron, but despite being an excellent defender, is ill-equipped to contain James on his own - a trait he shares with all humans. The Spurs' front line lacks that "lane-clogger" (think Roy Hibbert or Tyson Chandler) that's been so fatal to LeBron's penetration, which means he'll be much more comfortable going to the hoop off the dribble - which is by far when he's most dangerous. Send too many players towards a basket-bound King James, and Miami has enough spot-up shooters to rain threes all day; it's pick your poison (though the way they've shot it at times through these Playoffs, Pop might be able to swallow the latter). There's also his defensive presence; he could cover Duncan or Parker if needed, and won't be tested nearly as often by Leonard as the George/West combo, leaving him more in free-safety mode than the Spurs would like, especially against their pick-and-roll.

Miami will also have homecourt, which is massive for a team in a closely-matched series who plays as well at home as the Heat do. While South Beach residents have never been accused of being the most knowledgeable, dedicated, or enthusiastic NBA fans around, something has to be said for Miami's league-best record at the Triple-A, especially in Wade's case (what, like you wouldn't play with more confidence if you'd slept with Gabrielle Union the night before). The first two at home will be important tone-setters for a team that just came off a challenging series that shook its momentum severely; their ability to get back into their comfortable pace and push the Spurs will likely decide the outcome of this series.

San Antonio has plenty of intangibles playing to their edge, but the painful truth for them is that their ideal style of play caters too well to what Miami thrives in. The Spurs love to shoot 3s; Miami defends them extremely well. They love to abuse teams on the pick-and-roll, Miami has LeBron James. They love to bury defenses in the paint with Parker/Duncan help and move the ball several times for open shots, which Miami is probably better equipped to counter than any team in the NBA. On the other side of things, the Spurs don't have the size or all-around athletic toughness to bully the Heat like Indiana did; Miami did just get dragged to the edge of elimination, but again, by a team that's ideally built to defend them, and the only one to go all 7 rounds with them over their 3-peat as East Champs. What San Antonio also doesn't have - more to their demise - is LeBron James; a better player than in 2007, with a better team and a sharper killer instinct, which in this close of a matchup should be enough to keep Miami on the throne this season. Some things change, some things stay the same. Heat in 7.