by Lee Deltoro
I do not like Memphis Grizzlies basketball. I know that makes me a heretic. I refuse to care. I do not want to hear about the beautiful struggle that is Courtney Lee’s jumper, or what these long-suffering fans deserve. Yes, Z-Bo was a knucklehead, and now he's not. I’m more concerned that he is an example of someone coasting from "natural talent". It's not as if increasing your vertical leap is some mythical path, the secrets of which died out with the last alchemists. Get in the gym. Work. Tony Allen is a great one-way player. But why extol him over Monta Ellis? He has all the physical tools to be a great scorer as well, but he refused to put in the time it takes to do so. Marc Gasol is from Spain and he has an older brother. Mike Conley is slightly better than you thought he was. Memphis basketball is where ideological adversaries find common ground. Blue collar work ethic meets alt-culture cynicism.
Half the celebration of Grizzlies basketball is ironic. There is a whole generation that loves the subversion of the mainstream. "I am a breakfast defector" seems akin to "Go Grizz!" Since “Pace and space” are the words of the day, they instead flock to “grit and grind”. What’s interesting is that the same pundits who love Memphis today also loved Phoenix’s free-flowing offense 6 years ago. All hail D’Antoni! They constantly bemoaned the Lakers lack of outside shooting and slowness of pace. Before they were analytics darlings, the plodding Spurs were loathed for their lack of entertainment value. These people embrace today’s different, no matter how similar it is to what we’ve seen before.
In these playoffs, the Grizz have found their ideal foil, Golden State. Even the name conjures images of paradise. Their leader, Stephen Curry, is smooth and uncomplicated. The Warriors do not struggle, therefore some believe they must not be working. To many, their Silicon Valley roots mirror their story. Young, talented, affluent, and unaware of everyday realities. This has long been the American way, to dismiss creativity as extravagance. But basketball is a pastime; by its definition unnecessary. The NBA is entertainment. Entertainment is to be enjoyed. Basketball is nothing like your job. Jeff Green is not nor will he ever be a welder. Jeff Green is a multi-millionaire. He does not own a lunch pail. But heaven forbid that sports not be a referendum on the virtues of rust belt Americana.
Let me be clear, I harbor no resentment towards this team’s individual players. I respect what they do. Much in the same way I respect a mid-level video game boss. They are an impediment. The Grind House will make a compelling anecdote in the Steph Curry 30 for 30 film. They are a plot twist. I vehemently defend Memphis’ right to their style, but I will not be forced to enjoy it. In the classic case of the unstoppable force vs the immovable object, I choose the former. There is beautiful basketball being played and that is what I choose to root for.
Many are calling Memphis a throwback 90s team. That could not be further from the truth. The 90s and early 2000s, the Swingman Era, boasted the greatest collection of offensive wing players the NBA has ever seen, many of whom could probably still help Memphis at this point. The Grizzlies are a Republican Congress: Loyal opposition in the face of change. The last bastion of the old ways. A refuge for those who clamour for a past that never really existed. I do not need every team to play the same way. Like a Fortune 500 company, I embrace diversity. I love bold. This is not bold. This is lemons to lemon juice.
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