San Antonio Express-News (Sunday)
Newest generation turning up the volume like never before
Picture how a Spur looks. Better yet, while you’re doing that, imagine how a Spur sounds.
Think of David Robinson, spine impossibly straight, arms at his sides, solemn and silent. Think of Tim Duncan, eyes occasionally bulging, sure, but still tight-lipped and stoic. Think of Kawhi Leonard, eternally mum and expressionless, even after wrecking a rim and demolishing an opponent’s spirit.
Got those staid images — and the lack of accompanying audio — in your head now? When it comes to San Antonio’s NBA team, lots of people do.
Now, though, rub your eyes and clean out your ears, because with every Dejounte Murray growl and with every Lonnie Walker laugh and with every Keldon Johnson primal scream, an exuberant new
generation is changing a franchise’s personality.
“We have got some very loud people on this team,” said Patty Mills, the longest-tenured current Spur. “(They) just love to make noise for no particular reason. But it’s unique, and I guess it’s getting to be a part of our identity as a group, which you’ve got to love.”
It’s not that all of the more quietly dignified, businesslike, championship-collecting Spurs teams that came before this one weren’t lovable. Excellence can be lovable. Pinpoint execution can be lovable. Heart and drive can be lovable.
But fun can be, too.
And on the youngest roster Gregg Popovich ever has coached, fun appears to be in no short supply.
This isn’t to say the objective has changed. A desire to win, as always, is the reason the Spurs keep pounding their proverbial rock.
This team just happens to win a bit more boisterously than other San Antonio teams in memory. When Murray pokes a ball away from an opposing point guard for a clutch steal and a fastbreak dunk, he lets himself preen. When the youngsters go on one of their dizzying runs, like they did shortly before halftime against Boston this week, they hoot and holler while Walker and Johnson leap into the air to bump chests.
With flashes of pink, orange and teal, they’ve added some Fiesta to their game jerseys. With a bevy of energetic recent draft picks, they’ve added a little dose of “pachanga” to the atmosphere.
And everybody is noticing.
“I am pretty sure you can find a lot of instances throughout the game where I just sit back and laugh at them when they get to doing their antics,” DeRozan said. “But it’s a positive vibe. It’s a contagious type of energy that you can’t help (but) love.”
That includes even the team’s notoriously nononsense head coach.
Years ago, early in Leonard’s emergence as a superstar, Popovich would speak in almost reverential tones about how impressive it was that the youngster would unleash a spectacular dunk or hit an impossible shot, then just turn around and run back to play defense.
Popovich loved that about Leonard, and the admiration was sincere, just like it was with Duncan, Robinson, Manu Ginobili and Tony Parker.
But see, that doesn’t mean a coach who just turned 72 can’t adore the effusive, joyful brand of basketball played by his new group of players, too. The quiet way worked for Duncan and Leonard. The loud way works for Johnson and his running mates.
Popovich gets a kick out of both styles, and he is happy to draw up plays for either one.
“Watching a new generation of players that are 19, 20, 21, 22 years old is both a challenge and extremely satisfying,” Popovich said.
So far this season, Murray has taken exactly the kind of leap the Spurs wanted to see from their point guard. Walker has thrived as a member of the starting lineup. Rookie Devin Vassell has made a quick impact off the bench, and Derrick White is expected to only add to all of this now that he’s back from a broken toe.
But no young Spur exemplifies the team’s loud, demonstrative new identity better than Johnson, the 21-year-old second-year forward from Kentucky. He often guards the other team’s best player. When he gets the ball, he often attacks the rim with jaw-dropping disregard for life and limb.
And when he grabs one of his frequent offensive rebounds, then shoots himself into the air to put the ball in the basket. He does it while letting loose a deep-throated, guttural noise that resonates all the more with no fans in the arena.
“The vocal part, he definitely can do that,” Murray said.
“He’s a (bleeping) character,” DeRozan said of Johnson, laughing. “It’s intense, but you know he’s still a child. So it comes off funny, but it’s all with great intentions, from a dog place.”
It’s not all bark. Just for fun, compare the numbers from Leonard’s first two NBA seasons, which he also played at the ages of 20 and 21, to Johnson’s.
The edge in scoring (12.0 points per game to 9.8), rebounding (5.6 to 5.5), assists (1.6 to 1.3), field-goal percentage (.518 to .493) and 3-point percentage (.416 to .374) all go to Johnson, who might not be the elite defender Leonard became but is showing the aptitude for it.
Does that mean he’s the next Leonard? Of course not. But the more his screams and his teammates’ hollers keep providing a soundtrack for victories, the more it becomes clear an organization is embracing change.
And if the Spurs’ new identity is noisier?
San Antonio can love that. Just like it loved the silence that came before it.