There are many reasons the San Antonio Spurs lost Game 5 of the West finals. They made sloppy turnovers, committed silly fouls, screwed up defensive rotations, repeatedly failed to secure the glass, and missed a bunch of open 3s.
On the other side, Jared McCain became Mighty Mouse, Isaiah Hartenstein was the most determined man on the court, and an Oklahoma City Thunder offense that has been desperate to catch fire behind the arc drilled an obscene 55 percent of its non-corner 3s.
It’s easy to stare at the box score and get reductive. “[Victor Wembanyama] is gonna have to score more than 20 points,” lamented Spurs head coach Mitch Johnson after the final horn sounded on a 127-114 Thunder win. He isn’t wrong. San Antonio won’t win too many road playoff games when Julian Champagnie and Stephon Castle convert more buckets than one of the most dominant and versatile scorers alive.
But Wemby’s offensive struggles were indicative of a broader issue that’s plagued San Antonio for most of this series. It can’t get to, and/or finish in, the paint. Despite the Spurs’ size, speed, and athleticism, this shouldn’t be a surprise. Preventing their opponent from sniffing the lane is one of the Thunder’s most identifiable character traits. On Tuesday night, with their backs against the wall, they did it as well as they ever have.
The Spurs shot just 51.7 percent at the rim in Game 5, their second-lowest mark all season when Wembanyama played at least 25 minutes. That’s now two games in a row that we’ve seen San Antonio struggle mightily around the basket. (It finished at just 54.7 percent in Game 4’s blowout win.) This series has been a far cry from the 72.5 percent San Antonio shot at the basket in the last round, against the Minnesota Timberwolves.
The 3-point line still has a humongous say over which team will host the New York Knicks in Game 1 of the NBA Finals, but so many of those shots are left to chance compared to the higher-percentage attempts that come in the paint. Each defense is more or less willing to accept outside looks so long as they’re the direct result of a layup getting taken away; being that the Spurs employ a 7-foot-4 monster who can, in theory, dunk everything in sight, it’s jarring to see them be so inconsistent near the hoop.
The Thunder are extremely physical and well-positioned, though. They rotate early, get handsy in passing lanes, and shrink the floor. It’s very unpleasant, and helps explain why Wembanyama never looked comfortable and couldn’t establish any rhythm on Tuesday night. He scored just three baskets in the restricted area not because he’d rather launch a bunch of pull-up jumpers, but because OKC thrives at forcing opponents to do things they’d rather not do.
As is true with any highly competitive series that see-saws back and forth, it’s impossible to know what will happen next. But it’s hard to envision the Spurs consistently cracking the back line of Oklahoma City’s in Game 6 or 7. What the Spurs can do, though, is space the floor significantly better than they did in Game 5.
Here’s Wembanyama isolating on Hartenstein and then trying to drive by him. But instead of taking one more step and getting all the way to the rim, Wemby is forced to pick up his dribble, rush an awkward shot, and then try to put back his own miss … all because Cason Wallace could absolutely not care less about his own man, Dylan Harper.
Late in the first half, the Spurs opted to target Shai Gilgeous-Alexander with an inverted pick-and-roll. Keldon Johnson set a ball screen, SGA showed, and Alex Caruso nearly intercepted Wemby’s pass to a teammate he assumed would be open.
The matchups are interesting here. The Thunder anticipate San Antonio’s action, so instead of having SGA guard Castle and letting the Spurs tap into Area 51, they put him on Johnson. Meanwhile, Castle is stuck in the corner, disengaged and ineffective, with a Tasmanian devil roaming off him.
Stuff like this happened all game long, whether with Wemby or another ball handler. Here’s De’Aaron Fox plowing through McCain, getting to the rim, and then trying to muscle in a layup over a small crowd after Gilgeous-Alexander abandoned his assignment (Castle, again) in the corner.
When the Thunder flood the paint, San Antonio has to trust the pass. The Spurs made a few kickout 3s on plays similar to the one above, but OKC has you where it wants if you’re sped up and trying to be a hero. Fox either didn’t see SGA crashing down or didn’t think spraying the ball out to his teammate for a wide-open look was a great idea.
In general, Castle standing still on the weak side is nearly a death sentence for San Antonio’s offense. There’s a good chance we’ll see much less of it in Game 6. It’s also possible that Mitch Johnson pulls the plug on Luke Kornet when Wemby is off the floor, and fills those minutes by playing either Harrison Barnes or Carter Bryant at the 5. Rebounding and size matter. But spacing and speed may take precedence.
There probably won’t be any significant tactical adjustments, though. The margins are tiny right now. Whenever one side makes a mistake or misses a shot, the other needs to capitalize as soon as it can. Both teams know what the other is trying to do. It’s all about execution and shot making. The Thunder will pack the paint because that’s who they are. When they do—like Caruso does in the play below, ignoring Fox to jam up Wemby’s roll—the Spurs have to make them pay.
Sequences like the one above may ultimately decide these conference finals. Turnovers, fouls, brain farts, and hustle plays all matter. But assuming both sides are able to protect the rim with the same discipline and ferocity that we’ve seen all year long, whoever makes the open 3s their opponent is willing to live with will more likely than not be the last team standing.
