Tough? Gritty? Perseverant? Who are these Sixers? A real team with a real problem: the Knicks.
The Sixers were who we thought they were. Until they weren’t. The only conclusion left is they aren’t.
They were who we thought they were. Until they weren’t. The only conclusion left is they aren’t.
They aren’t the team that wouldn’t dunk against the Atlanta Hawks, that couldn’t shoot against the Boston Celtics. They aren’t the team that barely bothered to tie its shoes for Game 7 at TD Garden. Their point guard no longer shows up to press conferences dressed in coats that look like they were handwoven from the pelt of the Cookie Monster. Tyrese Maxey is technically playing for a contract, but he sure doesn’t carry himself like a guy who desperately needs a hug.
The Sixers are likable, believe it or not. If you don’t believe it, you may not be all that likable yourself. Not now, at least. Not after watching them on Wednesday night. In a 105-104 win over the Miami Heat that earned them a playoff series against the New York Knicks, the Sixers were everything they haven’t been in previous must-win games.
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Tougher than a $10.99 T-Bone. Grittier than an orange fur ball on skates. Stronger than a bottle of bathtub hooch. Lord, forgive me for my similes. This Sixers team is analogous to none.
“We’ve been through a lot of ups and downs and highs and lows,” forward Kelly Oubre said after the Sixers picked themselves up off the canvas and outscored Miami 66-53 in the second half. “Now it’s time for us to come out on top of all of that.”
It’s a funny concept to consider.
To Oubre, a game of this magnitude means it is the Sixers’ time to shine. To the rest of us, it means it is time to watch the 11 o’clock news on mute and contemplate the emptiness of our lives. The real suspense is how long the bottle of whiskey will last. If it doesn’t, maybe it is for the better, as long as the sleep comes fast.
That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it?
It’s OK to admit it. In order to unbind our trauma, we must first see the chains. By the end of the second quarter, the Sixers were down 12 points and making a convincing case that they were the same as they ever were. Twelve turnovers, 3-for-18 from three-points range. Missing gym-class layups, throwing kick-out passes to the courtside seats. The biggest game of the season, and they came out looking like they’d just walked out of a dentists office with a mouthful of Novocain. They couldn’t stop dribbling on their feet.
You thought they were done.
Well, they weren’t. That’s notable.
Two reasons. Two big ones.
One, they have some dogs on this team. The good kind of dogs. Not the ones you walk while pushing a stroller and trying to pretend you still have dignity (shout-out to Maxey’s former coach). The Sixers have the same kind of dogs the Heat are known for having, the ones who make every possession the 24 worst seconds of your life.
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It is not a coincidence that one of the Sixers’ foremost dogs used to play for the Heat. If Kyle Lowry had played for the Sixers the last three years, they would have at least two conference finals appearances and possibly more. You wouldn’t know it by looking at the box score: 7 points, one assist, two turnovers, three personal fouls, 3-from-10 from the field and 1-for-5 from deep. But, then, box scores do not keep track of the important things that Lowry did in 29 minutes of play. Hip checks on cutters, submarine box-outs, subtle forearm shivers to the back, a.k.a. the Northeast Philly handshake. Frankly, it’s hard to pinpoint all of the things he does. But it’s easy to see how his presence bleeds.
Oubre is another of the dogs. He was the fiercest one on Wednesday night. The Heat were frustrating the Sixers with their zone, as they have many times before. At halftime, Nick Nurse implored his team to attack the damn thing. Maxey played a big part in that, driving into the heart of the beast and collapsing it from within. But Oubre was there too: cutting, slashing, wilding his way to 11 points, three offensive rebounds, and a game-high +11. He was most tenacious on the other end of the court, bringing a frenetic, taste-your-food-before-you-do brand of defense that can sap an opponent’s will.
Nico Batum, too. The wandering Frenchman’s six three-pointers was one of the all-time greatest postseason performances by a non-all-time Great. But you’ll read plenty about that elsewhere.
The Sixers will need both toughness and shooting in order to hang with the Knicks.
“It’s going to be a physical series for sure,” Nurse said. “That’s the way they play. I didn’t think we were near physical enough until the second half. We got there then. I thought we started hitting, cracking, blocking out … I think we have been playing that way for the most part. I didn’t think we were ourselves early on.”
The second big difference in this Sixers team: they have a coach. A real one. No disrespect to the two who came before Nurse. Brett Brown and Doc Rivers did not have Oubre, did not have Lowry, did not have Batum. They did not have a dynamic combo guard like Maxey. They didn’t have a mature Embiid.
Even if they did, they did not have Nurse’s ability to leverage those assets, to get his team to play the way they need to play. At halftime, it was obvious what the Sixers needed to do. Get Maxey to attack the Heat zone and create from within. Recognize that Embiid was out of his element — treat him as part of the offense rather than the whole thing. They did both, and they scored 66 points because of it.
The Knicks?
They are no longer just an internet meme. They are nothing to snicker at. They are for real. They have all of the toughness that the Heat are renowned for, and one of the game’s great pacemakers in Jalen Brunson. Ducking the Celtics is an accomplishment worthy of celebration. The Knicks are an awful consolation prize.
It is going to be a series. Two teams who play basketball like there is one slice of pizza left. That’s a great thing to say about the Sixers. It’s the big takeaway from Wednesday night.