Admiring the Wizardry of Gregg Popovich

Gregg Popovich's latest magic trick: turning an apathetic, out-of-shape castoff into a valuable part of the San Antonio Spurs machine. I'm still not precisely sure how he does it, but Pop has a way of subtly imposing the company line; from day one, Boris Diaw has been a productive member of the Spurs' rotation, transformed by role and culture into the effective player he once was.

It's never safe to assume that any of the basketball-loving masses would willingly bring it upon themselves to watch this season's Charlotte Bobcats, and in that way I'm thankful that most didn't have to put up with Diaw's travesty of a season. It takes a certain degree of professionalism to go about playing for a horrid team as a model citizen, but it takes an even more glaring lack thereof to go about said campaign with such committed disinterest.

Diaw's focus didn't drift in Charlotte this season—it dissolved almost immediately. His complete non-effort for the Bobcats was a travesty, to the point where a premature divorce was practically essential. Diaw clearly had no interest in even feigning interest, and so he rolled on his merry way until the Spurs claimed him as a free agent.

That's where Popovich did what Popovich does—recycle, refuse and make it into something more. We often hear of the "Spurs Model," as if what this team does can be accomplished through blueprint. Yet what we see year after year and season after season is the miracle of Popovich and Tim Duncan—two of greatest at their respective crafts who have made careers out of creating a sustainable culture and assimilating every useful misfit they can find. Not many coaches—and stars—have such command; Pop isn't only a one-of-a-kind strategist, but perhaps the finest ever in terms of managing personalities and talent. He's blessed with a star who shares a similar basketball philosophy. 

Popovich slowed down Tony Parker and bridled Manu Ginobili. He's jostled minutes, benched sure starters and kept everyone on his roster buying into a bigger vision. He's twice made Stephen Jackson into a constructive NBA player despite every bit of empirical evidence suggesting otherwise.

And now, he's found a valuable big man where most only saw unmotivated dead weight. Diaw had earned every bit of that reputation, and because Popovich has earned every bit of his, he's managed to shape the problem into a potential solution. Diaw likely won't save a game or a series for the Spurs, but he can certainly save a possession, save a teammate from foul trouble or save the Spurs' interior from completely collapsing. He's a valuable player in the right context, and with Popovich and the Spurs, it's seemingly always the right context.

The man is a wizard, and that he has Diaw playing with any kind of fire at this point is a testament to his coaching savvy—and that's before we even broach the seamlessness through which Diaw has been integrated. Popovich does so many things in each and every year that are worthy of our admiration, so let this latest victory stand in place of the many triumphs of the 2011-2012 season. This was supposed to be the Spurs' final lap, but because of a coach's patience, creativity and subscription to black magic, it's turned out to be but another contending season among oh so many.