Sometimes a salary pays for more than wins
Whatever direction the Spurs and Chris Paul head next, his price tag was more than worth it.
Chris Paul tends to get choked up at least a little when he speaks on gratitude. Or perhaps it’s just an inflection in his voice. Though after all this time away from his family, a wife and two kids who live in Los Angeles, nobody with a heart would blame him for a second if reflection caused a moment of vulnerability.
But we live in a world where the churn never ends, where the processing of feelings is left for the fainthearted — especially when it comes to professional athletes making millions of dollars. Paul, though, was at midcourt battling with Scottie Barnes with about 22 seconds left in Game 82 of a season that was ending that day. Perhaps, even after all these years covering the Spurs and the NBA, I’m still naive about what motivates people. But I’m still skeptical enough to reject that sentiment upon first examination. Money aside, the best care deeply. You flatly do not get to this level if you do not.
“The word I use all the time is ‘gratitude.’ Fortunately, for most of my career, I've been in the playoffs and haven't played too many non-meaningful games and whatnot. So I think towards the end of the season it was just the mental part,” Paul said. “So having other guys showing up every day and making sure you’re doing the work and taking no shortcuts, I feel good about it. I feel good about my experience here and as mad as I am about not being in the playoffs, I'm excited to see my family.”
At the end of the work day, you get to go home. You punched the clock, you put in the time, this is what you’re here to do. And that is exactly what Paul was here to do. First and foremost, he was here to hoop. That’s what he’s always said. But along the way he never stopped teaching, or leading by example. He knew his family would be there when he finished the job.
There’s an entire generation that separates him from most of the roster, and it’s difficult to gauge (in any of our lives) what the lessons learned mean to a kid who’s got all the confidence in the world, a promising runway in front of them, but very little experience off which to ground themselves. And yet the NBA, and professional sports in general, have a way of expediting that process.
“It's just passion. The way he loves the game, he respects the game. He's in Year 20, has done everything, has made the money he needs. He could be in flipping, I don't know, Hawaii, doing nothing,” the 21-year-old Jeremy Sochan said of the 39-year-old Paul. “And he's here in San Antonio, Texas, busting his ass for 82 fucking games, just doing his thing.”
When Paul joined the Spurs, there was at least a part of him that felt it was a good spot because he wouldn’t have to hurt his body in this way or that, stretch his ligaments or crank up the intensity the way he’s always had to in the past. He’s been playing basketball at a high level for a long time, and these young dudes could pick up the slack. They could run out in transition, get physical and crash to the floor, and he could step in when needed. And make no mistake, he would.
But here’s where the big question arises: Can you teach the kids to feel a certain way? You can do your best to impart a level of wisdom and fortitude, but can you actually teach persistence? Can you actually teach how to stay pissed off at every opponent you face when there are no longer stakes? Is that teachable, or are you just built that way?
Maybe the biggest battle the Spurs have ahead of them — even with a future that is as bright as it gets in the league — is learning how to win. Learning how to embody that mindset. Still. San Antonio did everything it realistically could, without being financially irresponsible, to put pieces in place willing to not only teach, but play, and set an example. Forget your talent, this is what it takes to actually play this many games, to be there for your team and to show up for your fan base.
Victor Wembanyama is the ruthless combination of insane competitor and highly skilled player — he’s as ‘one of one’ as it gets. Keldon Johnson never, ever stops, and his teammates are fueled by his presence. Devin Vassell hates the way his season went more than you do, and perhaps the biggest growth seen from him is a level of accountability I’m not sure he’s fully realized in the past. Stephon Castle is an animal afraid of no one. Jeremy Sochan has a lot of work to do on the technical side of things, but has grown into a player who understands the benefits of just playing harder than everyone around him, and has seen the fruits of his labor. The list goes on and on. Even add to it the guy who joined Paul and Harrison Barnes as the third Spurs player to play 82 games this season, Julian Champagnie: someone who has been on a constant grind since he got to the league.
We will get into more of the analytical stuff soon. We’ll break down players’ seasons, where they slot in moving forward (if they’ll be in town at all), and how San Antonio is going to be approaching things moving forward. It’s the stuff everyone expects in the churn, and rightfully so. A huge offseason awaits.
But for a second we can step back and recognize that leadership by example matters.
Regardless of the directions Paul and the team decide to go, the price tag was worth it even if it ends up being only one season. There’s already an established culture in San Antonio, with all the luminaries hanging around within shouting distance, the banners forever on display in the arena and practice facility, and the retired jerseys nobody could ever miss. But sometimes you need people on the ground floor and in the locker room to remind you of what it’s going to take on a day-to-day basis. Ceremony only goes so far.
The Spurs got that in Paul, and more.
