Covered in Spurs Goo: A Report from LaMarcus Aldridge's Portland Homecoming

By Corbin Smith

It was a momentous game in the Rose Garden last night. For the first time since he was traded to your Portland Trail Blazers, Gerald Henderson—6-foot-5-inch shooting guard out of Duke University—donned the red, black and white and served honorably for the squad. He started his game looking out of sorts, airballing his first shot waaaaaaaay short, but he soon found his hardwood legs and managed to net 12 points and two boards in a meager 17 minutes of play. He even had a pair of pretty good dunks. You don't really think of Gerald Henderson as a dude who can get up there, but he has some pretty legit springs in those old gams.

Also: LaMarcus Aldridge played in Portland as a Spur for the first time.

You probably want to know about the booing. How much, how vociferous, were there effigies, etc. In short: When the Spurs entered for warmups, there were some boos but also some cheers. I was standing in front of some older people who were very polite and cheered very sincerely. It was nice. You are a jaded monster who should learn to love. In proper introductions, with the lights down and all that, there was a sort of 50-50 split on the boos and the cheers, but everyone was feeling something.

When the game started, something funny happened. LaMarcus would get the ball, and a whole tone of boo-birds would descend from the rafters. Then, he would pass almost immediately, or shoot almost immediately, because, remember, he's on the Spurs now, and dudes on the Spurs don't hold the ball long enough to let the audience get a good, cathartic boo in. Boos don't stick to the Spurs. Nothing sticks to the Spurs.

In times like this, the human mind craves a moment you can latch onto, a tendency that will expose a human nerve that we can observe on the court. You wanted to see Lillard and Aldridge square off on a switch. Lillard carving a war path, Ramboing the shit out of the Spurs to defend the good people of Oregon, to bring them catharsis. Aldridge missing some critical shot under the immense pressure of the situation (he made his critical free throws). LaMarcus dropping some obscene number of points, the boo-birds driving him to a holy defense of his own good name. Lillard bangs on Tim Duncan for taking his forward away. Wartime, man-on-man shit. '90s shit. Feelings shit.

But it just never comes. It's just buried under the black goop of the Spurs—Spursiness, Spursatella, Spurs Ultra Competency, whatever you want to call it. You can want for theater, but all they do is play basketball. None of the crowd's feelings mattered. On the court, it was like nothing had happened at all. It's just a game, you babies, we'll do what we always do. Maybe, maybe if the Blazers were extremely lit, they could get through, but they just weren't.

I haven't had the a reason to watch LMA play with the Spurs until tonight, and I have to say, it's kind of fascinating. He's already picked up the spirit of the whole thing, passing a lot faster instead of squaring up against his opponent, playing two-man with Kawhi Leonard, moving as an intermediary screener in motion sets (they really do run some beautiful sets). But he also works in some of his other tendencies that don't really fit in with the broader idea of Spursiness, if you will. He still loves a top-of-the-key long two, for instance, and is not opposed to indulging on the occasional turnaround jumper. It will be interesting to see if he will be submerged in Spurs-Goo all the way, or if he keeps doing himself here and there. Probably the former. We're all going to be consumed by the Spurs-Goo eventually.

STRAY THOUGHTS:

• A lot of pain in this one. Meyers fucked up his shoulder, Kawhi fell on his shoulder after dunking on Mason Plumlee, and Damian Lillard RIPPED HIS OWN FINGERNAIL RIGHT THE FUCK OFF.

• Plumlee was pretty bad at defending tonight, and has not stacked up in that regard all season. Two goaltends in the fourth quarter. Couldn’t wait to chill out, dude.
• The bench was, really, really bad. The starters weren’t exactly generating high EPV jumpers or putting on the clamps or anything, but they were attacking the rim OK and not getting their skin peeled off. The bench, though, they just looked like they were playing in pudding. It’s nearly unfair to CJ McCollum, who was playing backup point, to have to be saddled with a bunch of dudes who can’t make shots or motion or anything on their own, forcing him to make something out of nothing at the top of the key. Then again, what do you expect? The team is, like, $15 million underneath the spending floor.
• Ed Davis did steal an inbounds pass. Good job staying heads up out there, dude.
• Noah Vonleh fouled Danny Green on a three pointer. The shot went in. Then, Terry got mad and yelled something at the refs—probably “Motherfucker!” or some such insult; these sports dudes can be real cads—and got T’d up. In retrospect, I am sad Green’s free throw didn’t go in, because how often do you get to be present for a genuine five-point play?
• The scoreboard in the rafters in the Rose Garden has long been a resource for people looking to see what the latest NBA scores are. You will be happy, or sad, or startlingly unaffected by the knowledge that they added NHL scores in the offseason. I am not, personally, aware of a single Pacific Northwesterner who is invested in the NHL. Is the team priming us for something? Will there be pro hockey in the City of Roses?
• The team didn’t prepare a tribute video for LMA, which I thought was maybe not terribly great form. It’s not like it was some insanely acrimonious and gross public split, like when LeBron left Cleveland. I am going to hope/assume that they wanted an hour of hate before a minute of love.

Willamette Week