A Nice Butt-Kicking

by Will Byrne

“I can’t feel bad,” said Magic Johnson. “They’re just giving us a nice butt-kicking.”

His words, uttered within the passing-the-torch inevitability of the 1991 NBA Finals, echoed through the Nuggets hollow first-round sweep at the hands of the newest generation of Lakers.  

One was on the NBA’s greatest stage and the other in a forgettable first round, but both share two distinct facts: both teams were eviscerated by the best shooting guards to ever play the game, and both were at the hands of the Zen Master, Phil Jackson.

From that perspective, the Nuggets loss to the Lakers might not feel so bad. But what lessons can be learned from losing in this fashion? 

Should the Nuggets take solace in the fact that despite their strongest effort in the season (game four), they were still one Kobe Bryant away from victory? Or in grander terms, should the Nuggets feel discouraged because there isn’t a Bryant or Tim Duncan on this team? 

Not every team can have a pantheon player to lead them to multiple championship rings, nor should the Nuggets organization be killing themselves for winning Carmelo Anthony instead of Lebron James five years ago. 

In a lot of ways, the Nuggets simply met a team that out-matched them in many facets, the most glaring being personnel.  While the Lakers have proven champions in Bryant, Derek Fisher, and Pau Gasol (in Spain), the Nuggets have a collection of veterans who’ve only caught fire in isolated playoff series (Iverson and Camby) and at the college level (Anthony). 

For whatever reason, fans of this Denver franchise have deluded themselves into thinking this team has an overwhelming bulk of talent (whatever that term means).  While the Nuggets do have some talented players, they have no one as skilled, savvy, or consistently efficient as Bryant or Gasol, nor do their role-players exceed their Laker counterparts.

As large as the gap between talent might be, the bigger difference is clearly the team’s chemistry. The Nuggets lack of cohesion on either end of the ball is what truly killed their chance to make this series competitive.      

At its best, the Lakers offense is like watching a pianist’s fingers; all parts selflessly performing a unique task to create beautiful harmonies.  Back cuts lead to easy lay-ups from Gasol at the elbow, Bryant dribble penetration becomes a corner three pointer.  The entire team passes and cuts and spaces out the floor so they function as one organism. 

The Nuggets, in the meantime, have no such commitment to playing how it takes to win championships.  With Iverson and Anthony as the central culprits, the Nuggets averaged only 18.5 assists per play off game compared to the Lakers 28.  Countless offensive possessions ended with Anthony forcing a shot through a triple team or Iverson shooting off-balance between too many yellow jerseys. 

These issues of team identity and chemistry are further magnified on the defensive end.  Where commitments aren’t kept, opponent lay-ups are found.  By a generous count, the number of Nugget starters committed to playing strong team defense is three; and Kenyon Martin’s effort doesn’t necessarily outweigh his tendency to reach and foul. 

Both George Karl and Phil Jackson are wonderful coaches with great knowledge of the game.  The reason Phil Jackson has nine rings and Karl has none is two-fold. 

Firstly, Jackson is perhaps the best coach in memory to understand personalities, convince them of their roles, and develop the afore-mentioned chemistry.  Karl’s teams in Seattle and Milwaukee have always been more combustible than Jackson’s, and the edge has always preferred the Bulls and Lakers.

 Second, and just as importantly, Jackson has had the very best players in the league, both individually and for his system.  They are all smart passers and willing defenders.  Their skill sets fit somewhere into the triangle on offense and Jackson’s overall philosophy of basketball.  It is unclear if Karl has a system that he prefers, though one could hardly consider his personnel in Denver ideal. 

The lazy response is “trade the players” or “fire the coach.”  General Managers should always be smart and proactive about moving players and ensuring a good situation between the coach and his players. 

However, one key to the Lakers success is that Jackson has been given time to help his players understand how to win how he wants them to.  While Gasol was a quick learner, a player like Bryant has taken a career to truly understand unselfish basketball. 

Coach Karl has been shown to be adept at the development of role players.  Linas Klieza and JR Smith have both blossomed under his instruction.  Is it inconceivable that the Nuggets merely need more time to understand their team?  Is it possible that chemistry doesn’t come overnight, but must be learned and developed?

The flip side of this idea is their worrisome lack of commitment to getting better.  Whether it be expanding their personal games, cooperating to help their teammates, or learning to play strong defense, the Nuggets stars have exhibited little desire to make their team better. 

This doesn’t mean trade Iverson or Anthony automatically.  It means convince them (perhaps by showing a Lakers tape) that trust and commitment are the path to championships, not selfishness and personal glory. 

If they are the true competitors we hope they are, they can make the adjustment. 

Otherwise, they can just get used to these butt-kickings.