Cavs-Spurs Game 4: LeBron James Gets a Lesson In Winning

The San Antonio Spurs clinched their fourth championship in eight years on Thursday, knocking off the Cleveland Cavaliers 83-82 in Game Four of the NBA Finals.

In true championship form, the Spurs won because they made the right plays at the right times.

To be sure, Cleveland's overall team defense (minus Drew Gooden's late rotations and Damon Jones' inadequacies) was as exceptional in Game Four as it had been in Game Three. For most of the game, the Cavs contained Tim Duncan, whose final stat line was exceedingly ordinary: 4-15 FG, 4-10 FT, 6 TO.

But when it mattered most—with four minutes left and the Cavs within striking distance—Duncan was there.

He was there on the offensive glass, trying to tip in a missed shot. He was there after the tip missed, diving into his bench to save a loose ball. He was there when the Spurs missed again, ripping down an offensive board and he was there, finally, after one more Spurs miss-and-rebound, spinning into the middle of a weary Cleveland D before finding Fabricio Oberto for an —and-one.

The result: A possession that lasted a minute and a half and featured two Duncan rebounds, one Duncan loose-ball save, one Duncan assist out of a double team, and an entire roster of brokenhearted Cavaliers.

 
That, in a nutshell, is what makes Tim Duncan a consummate winner: No matter how poorly he's playing or how well he's being defended, he elevates his game at the most critical moments—and does the little things it takes to win.

Like his textbook rotations. Like his presence under the basket. Like his two blocked shots. Like his two steals. Like his three assists. Like his 15 rebounds.

And now he has rings on four of his fingers to show for it.

As for Cleveland s superstar—it was more of the same bad news for LeBron James: too many ineffective screen/rolls, too many isolations, and too many instances in which he was asked to start the offense instead of finishing it.

Yes, LeBron had some success bulling his way into lane; and yes, he did manage to draw crowds before dishing to open teammates. But his jump shot was still too inconsistent (6-19 from midrange and beyond) to prevent Bruce Bowen from sagging back and taking away his dynamic first step.

The Cavs attack was at its best early in the game, when every player had his number called and the offense ran fluidly. Apart from those first few possessions, Cleveland's O became static—either LeBron would make a play or nobody would.

As the other Cavs were expected to do nothing more than stand around and wait for James to pass it to them, it's no surprise that they all choked when they had to hit big shots.

Basketball players are most comfortable when they're asked to be active—to move, to cut, to set screens. To play with a purpose is to play loose, and to play confident.

When players are asked to wait and watch, on the other hand, the pressure they put on themselves becomes debilitating.

Hence the miserable shooting by Cleveland throughout the Finals.

That said, the series wasn't all terrible for Cleveland. Despite the disparity in talent, the Cavs competed hard in every game. And though Mike Brown made his share of questionable decisions (giving too much time to Damon Jones and Donyell Marshall down the stretch in Game Four, for example), he does deserve credit for the defensive adjustments he made after Games One and Two.

It should also be noted that, coming out of the Eastern Conference, Cleveland had never experienced the fury of championship-caliber defense, or the creativity of championship-caliber offense.

The Cavs, if they're smart, will take the loss as a hard-learned lesson in how to win at the ultimate level of competition.

The Spurs? They've already acquired that lustrous wisdom. The proof, as they say, is in the rings.