There are
cameras and microphones everywhere at the NBA Finals, and they
happened to catch an interaction late in Game 2 that was going
viral before the game was even over.
It was Phoenix
coach Monty Williams, talking only to Suns center Deandre Ayton
during a time out and trying desperately to cheer him up on what
was a slow night statistically against the Milwaukee Bucks. Ayton’s
head was down. His body language was awful. Williams wasn’t having
it. He started talking, then grabbed Ayton’s wrist to further
commandeer his attention.
Mind you, his
voice was raised high enough only so Ayton could hear him over the
din of the crowd. No yelling, no screaming, no swearing, no
histrionics.
“You set a high
level for yourself,” Williams said. “That’s why you’re down. That’s
great. Now go reach that level, OK? And you can reach it with
force. Doesn’t have to be stats all the time. Go dominate the game
with force, because you set a high level for yourself. Go dominate
the game with force. Let’s go.”
Ayton scored
shortly after that time out ended. A few seconds after that, he got
a steal. A couple minutes later, with Milwaukee within six and
still having hope, Ayton found Chris Paul for a three-pointer. The
Bucks were never within two possessions of tying the game
again.
That moment was
indicative of the entire season.
Williams has
pushed the right button, every time.
He did it again
Thursday, part of the reason why the Suns are up 2-0 in these NBA
Finals. Why they are two wins away from the franchise’s first
title, and why Williams was recognized by his peers as the best
coach in the league this season. It’s also why many others are
starting to catch on that he’s very much the real deal.
“You are giving
me a lot of credit,” Williams said. “I try to be authentic.
Sometimes in a huddle, I don’t say anything. The guys will run the
huddle. But I try to be an encourager in huddles, especially when I
see a guy down or the team is not at the level where they should be
mentally. I don’t want to make up stuff.
“I know what
it’s like to be in those huddles and you want to know the truth,
but you also need sometimes a pep talk, sometimes encouragement. I
just try to be authentic and speak from the heart.”
Williams didn’t
get here by accident. He played for Pat Riley, Don Nelson and Larry
Brown — all members of the Basketball Hall of Fame. He played for
Doc Rivers and Mike D’Antoni, too. He played for Gregg Popovich,
then worked for Popovich as a coaching intern, then worked with him
as San Antonio’s vice president of basketball operations.
Popovich said
he knew right away that Williams was unique.
“He’s obviously
a fine basketball coach,” Popovich said this week in Las Vegas,
where he and his U.S. Olympic team are getting ready for the Tokyo
Games. “But his ability to relate to players, to be genuine, to be
honest, no tricks, no smoke screens, just a straight-up, caring,
loving man, it shows. It comes out, and players react to it.”
Popovich is
looking to lead the Americans to a gold medal, which would be their
fourth Olympic title in a row. Williams was an assistant coach on
the most recent U.S. team, the one that won gold in Rio de Janeiro
five years ago — doing so just six months after Williams’ wife
Ingrid was killed in a car crash.
He delivered
his wife’s eulogy, quoting scripture, speaking of his faith in God,
even reminding fellow mourners that the family of the other driver,
who died in the crash, also needed prayers. It was a show of
remarkable class, courage and strength.
“He’s a special
man,” Popovich said.
A special
coach, too.
The Suns were
the worst team in basketball over the last five seasons. The worst.
They are two wins away from becoming the best team in the world,
with a dynamic young duo — Ayton and U.S. Olympian Devin Booker —
and a coach on the floor in Chris Paul, whose 16-season wait for an
NBA title might be a few days from finally ending.
They do the
work and Williams wants them to get all the credit. And yes, they
deserve plenty, but it was Williams who came up with the framework
for how this team could win -- and let his players figure out how
best to thrive.
“I tell our
guys to go hoop,” Williams shrugs.
He makes it
sound simple, makes it look easy. Only the great ones can do
that.