In preparation for tonight’s potential Warriors playoff-clincher vs. Utah, I flipped through some old memories and old stories from 2007, the last time the GSWs made the postseason.
This one will be different, and a lot less dramatic (in a good way), if the Warriors clinch now, because…
1) It will be at home (or, if it takes longer, so will the next 2 GSW games), and it will come with a few weeks left in the season.
In 2007, the clincher came in Portland on the last day of the season.
2) The Warriors have been comfortably within the playoff margin for most of this season, and the last few weeks have been mostly an inevitable march, with the specific seeding being the only open question.
(They’re 1.5 games up on Houston for the 6th seed, but Houston has the tie-break advantage.)
In 2007, the Warriors struggled in February and into March and then needed an incredible 16-5… and 9-1… finish to rally up from the depths to just barely grab the 8th spot from the Clippers.
So this is different. In 2007 it was about Don Nelson and Baron Davis’ rag-tag bunch of giddily cantankerous second-chancers rallying at the very end, and that molten energy carried them into a titanic upset of No. 1 seed Dallas in the first round.
We shall see what the end of this season turns out to be, but it’s definitely a different spirit with Mark Jackson, Stephen Curry and David Lee leading the way.
I’d say it’s a core built to last a lot longer than Nelson/Baron ever could, but it probably will never be as dynamic for a short period as Baron/Stephen Jackson/Jason Richardson/Al Harrington, et al.
—–A few details from April 2007...
* Warriors were 26-35 on March 4 after losing six in a row. (Jason Richardson missed a stretch of games, but came back for good Feb. 21. Warriors won their first game with him, then went on the losing streak, then figured it out and took off.)
They went 16-5 down the stretch, including a last burst 9-1 to to the finish.
* The Warriors had to chase down the Clippers, who held the lead then kind of whimpered out at the very end. The Clippers lost their last game to go 40-42.
But going into that last night, the Warriors believed they had to win because the Clippers had the tie-break advantage.
* The Warriors finished with a 42-40 record. They were 40-40 going into the second-to-last night in 2007, when they faced Dallas–who the Warriors had beat up during the regular season despite Dallas’ eventual 67 victories that season.
Then came the April 17 game at Oracle, as the “We Believe” phenomenon really boomed into full force.
(Remember, then-Dallas coach Avery Johnson weirdly held out Dirk Nowitzki and Josh Howard, even though a Dallas victory could’ve been a near-death blow for a Warriors team that matched up very well with Dallas, as was proven in the first round.)
* The Warriors flew up to Portland to play the Trail Blazers the next night—a Wednesday–knowing that if they won, they were in the playoffs for the first time since 1994.
They won going away and then celebrated wildly in the visiting locker room. Here’s a column from the scene…
—From a column I wrote a day after the clincher…
Apr. 20–One voice rose above the screaming and singing inside the Warriors locker room in Portland, and all the screaming and singing stopped.
That’s what always happens when Baron Davis takes over, sometimes for good, sometimes for bad. Everybody else stops.
It’s just what always happens. Late Wednesday, at this pinnacle moment for a franchise of almost constant descent, Davis celebrated the Warriors’ first playoff berth in 13 years, then personally thanked Chris Mullin and Rod Higgins, the training staff and his teammates.
And most passionately, Davis declared how much Don Nelson had done to revive this franchise and tacitly acknowledged what Nelson had done to redeem Davis’ stormy career and broken reputation, too.
The fascinating playoff match-up with Dallas beckoned. The celebration was still going on.
But Davis needed to stop and credit Nelson because Davis needed the redemption and the saving more than he could ever before admit.
“I just thanked Coach for giving me something, giving me a challenge, and believing in my talents,” Davis said later. “I didn’t really say that to the team. I just thanked Coach for being who he was and guiding this team and this franchise.
“I told him … I had pretty much lost my passion or the fun. Last year (playing) for (Mike) Montgomery, it was … the first time I really questioned myself as a basketball player.”
That’s the riddle, risk and reward of Davis, in a nutshell. He’s smart enough and talented enough to be the leading spirit of any team, but his body has broken down often and his frustrations occasionally reach atomic levels.
Which leads us back to last year, when the Warriors languished and Davis sat out the last 19 games because of a sprained ankle and severely strained relationship with Montgomery.
“I think physically he was out there killing himself and he didn’t really see the light,” said Matt Barnes, Davis’ close friend and teammate.
It was a quiet cold war with Montgomery; in fact, leery of his “coach-killer” reputation, Davis barked at me last year when I wrote that he and Montgomery were inevitably headed to a breakup.
But Davis was nearing his 30s, chasing smaller point guards, getting hurt every year, and falling deeper into mediocrity with a coach he knew was over-matched.
A year after he was heralded as the Warriors’ savior when he was acquired from New Orleans, Davis was, according to some of the loud and misinformed, a new Warriors millstone.
“Last year was extremely low because I took the bulk of the blame,” Davis said. “But I stepped up and took it. I didn’t shy away. I didn’t make any excuses or anything. I took the blame throughout the whole season.
“I took the blame when I was in New Orleans. I was the reason for the trade. I was the bad seed in the trade. It doesn’t bother me, man.”
It bothered him last year, actually. Bothered him enough to put much more effort into his summer workouts. Bothered him enough to realize that the Warriors’ August surprise hiring of Nelson was probably Davis’ last chance to embrace the guidance of a strong NBA hand.
Nelson met the moment perfectly, happily handing the team over to Davis and then happily watching Davis flourish in the open system.
Davis, who just turned 28, fought through his usual spate of injuries, played 63 games (he played 54 last season) and turned in his best season since 2003-04, shooting a career-best 43.9 percent from the field (he shot 38.9 percent last season), averaging 20.1 points (17.9 last season) and a league-best 2.14 steals.
And he just finished leading his team to the playoffs as its unquestioned leader, spirit and single locker room voice.
“I told Mully when they brought me here, that’s what I want – I want to get us back to the playoffs,” Davis said. “All I care about is this organization, because I go hard for people who take chances on me. Because I feel like I’m a risk-taker and I feel like I’m risky.”
That’s why he took the time out of Wednesday’s celebration to thank those who had risked so much on him. And that’s why Davis seemed so serene after it was over – they’re the underdogs against Dallas, they’ve just sent their fans into euphoria, they’ve reached a pinnacle.
What do they have to lose? No more risk for the Warriors now.
This season, especially the 16-5 finishing kick, transformed the way the sports world looks at the Warriors. Baron, didn’t it transform the way people look at you, too?
“The basketball gods have a funny way of giving you what you deserve,” Davis said, “and I think that we deserve this.”
It could turn bad again for Davis, of course. But not right now, and not for a while. And that’s more important to him than he’d ever want to admit – but I think he just did.
