The Players That Made Me, Part Two: Boris Diaw
How an overweight Frenchman who played every single position taught me that it's okay to be weird.
I’m not what you’d call a “normal guy,” and I never have been. My interests have always been both wide and weird. I have held a deep love for professional wrestling in my heart since I can remember. I spent 8 years podcasting about it, I have done commentary for independent promotions, and I even “wrote” the shows (we call it “booking” IN THE BIZ) for Freelance Wrestling in Chicago during 2016. I truly love poetry, both reading and writing it. Billy Collins, W.S. Merwin, Robert Hass, Tracy K. Smith, I could blabber about it forever. While most of the other kids I played sports with in school were into rap or rock music, I would have Dashboard Confessional playing on my iPod before games. I always felt odd; like I never truly belonged within any one crowd. I couldn’t fit myself through the round, square, or triangle holes, and I would have days where I felt as if I was an ill-conceived, useless shape. In reality, I was just a lot of different shapes at the same time, much like Boris Diaw.
In my first part of this series, I wrote about Allen Iverson. I remember the first few times I saw Iverson play because of how distinct he was as a player. Though Boris Diaw is probably even more distinct, I don’t remember the first time I saw him play. Boris simply eased into my life, much like he eased into the upper echelons of the game. If you look up scouting reports of him before he came into the league, you quickly realize that no one quite knew what to make of him. At 6’8”, he was noted for his versatility and variety of skills, but knocked for his lack of a back-to-the-basket post game and upper body strength. He would receive positive remarks regarding his passing, but knocks about his consistency and drive. TheSportsForecaster noted his subpar conditioning. Boris Diaw was WEIRD. This was during a time when 6’8”, heavier players were largely cast as a 3 or 4. Boris wasn’t a great shooter yet, so he couldn’t play the 3, and he was too weak to play the 4. Most of his offensive game revolved around him dribbling and making savvy reads, which was the job of the point guard, and certainly not something a forward would be asked to do on a regular basis. So, what was Boris Diaw? Well, let’s go on a journey.
To start, Boris Diaw was…pretty bad. He was drafted by an Atlanta Hawks team that finished with a 28-54 record, and he was put at the shooting guard position, occasionally running the point. His game was rather incoherent; he couldn’t, and wouldn’t take outside shots, launching only 26 threes in 76 games played. Diaw struggled to score from…everywhere, really, finishing with a below-league-average True Shooting Percentage. He was technically a good positional rebound and grabbed 4.5 boards per game. Diaw averaged 2.4 assists/game, a wonderful number for a player his size, but he also turned it over 1.7 times per game. Where Diaw impressed the most was on defense. Despite his frame, Diaw was like a ballerina. He slid with grace, and he was stout enough that defenders at the guard spots couldn’t bully their way past him. While he wasn’t traditionally fast, he had quick hands, good for quickly slapping the ball away, or intercepting a lazy skip pass. His length was something opposing offenses weren’t used to dealing with at the 2-spot, so he gobbled up steals and would get a few blocks solely by being something that had never existed before.
His second season was more of the same, but Diaw actually saw his minutes decrease. The Hawks knew there was something there, but didn’t seem to know quite what. When the season ended, Phoenix Suns free agent Joe Johnson became available, and the Hawks pounced. Johnson was a more traditional two-guard than Diaw, a great shooter who could score in isolation, and also had the length to defend well. As a part of Johnson’s signing, the Hawks sent Boris Diaw to the Phoenix Suns along with two draft picks. To most at the time, it felt like Diaw was just the consolation prize for losing Joe Johnson. Thankfully, for everyone, the Phoenix Suns coaching staff saw Boris Diaw as a whole lot more.
The 2005-2006 season was Boris Diaw’s breakout campaign. Diaw was no longer being played as a guard, but rather as a power forward and center. He had filled out his frame, and could now bang with the bigger bodies down low. The Suns would also run quirky sets with him as a lead ballhandler, throwing other defenses out of whack. Opposing big men were not used to having to cover someone utilized in that role, and it gave the Suns a strategic ace up their sleeve. The Suns loved to get him the ball at the top of the key, dragging his defender (often a rim protector) away from the basket, opening up lanes for cutters. On the low block, he could find open shooters spotting up on the perimeter for threes. His handle allowed him to drive past big defenders, and when the defense would collapse, it seemed like he always found the open shooter. You may think, “why didn’t teams just put smaller defenders on him, then?” They did, and Diaw would eat the smaller defender for lunch in the post. The Suns from that era were called “The Seven Seconds or Less Suns” because of their run-and-gun philosophy; they wanted to shoot the ball before seven seconds had come off the shot clock. This allowed Boris to operate as a grab-and-go playmaker, nabbing a rebound, and immediately putting the ball on the floor to orchestrate a fast break. Diaw made several beautiful lob passes to ferocious dunker Shawn Marion. Pairing him with a brilliant playmaker in Steve Nash also did him wonders, as he had someone who could get him better looks in a halfcourt setting. Diaw would have an above-average True Shooting Percentage for the first time in his career. For his progress, Diaw won The NBA Most Improved Player Award, averaging 13.3 PPG, 6.9 RPG, and 6.2 APG. Diaw would start at center for the Suns in the playoffs, and even hit a game-winner in the Western Conference Finals.
Unfortunately, as detailed in the wonderful book “Seven Seconds or Less” by Jack McCallum, Diaw would struggle mentally throughout that same series. His toughness and resolve would come into question. The Mavericks eliminated the the Suns, and the following season, Diaw would see his role reduced as a healthy Amar’e Stoudemire returned to the team. Still, the Suns would finish with a stellar 61-21 record. During the second round of that year’s playoffs, things unraveled. With the Spurs leading the Suns 2-1 in a series, Spurs player Robert Horry hip-checked Steve Nash into the scorers table, inciting a skirmish. Amar’e Stoudemire and Boris Diaw left the Suns’ bench area during the kerfuffle, and each would get suspended for the next game. Robert Horry would get a two game suspension, but he was far less consequential to his team than Stoudemire and Diaw were to the Suns. Though the Suns pulled out the win after the near-brawl, the Spurs would beat a diminished Suns team in game 5, and then hold off an out-of-rhythm Suns team in game six, sending them packing.
The following season, Boris would again see his minutes cut, as General Manager Steve Kerr attempted to retool the team, swapping do-it-all wing Shawn Marion for an aging Shaquille O’Neal. Boris was now behind Stoudemire and O’Neal in the rotation, and the team started to gravitate away from what made them special. The emphasis on pace and movement was lessened, as they played more big, slower line-ups instead of the seven-seconds-or-less style brigades with Shawn Marion operating as a small-ball power forward. After getting bounced in the first round of the playoffs, even more changes were imminent.
Diaw would be dealt to the Charlotte Bobcats during the middle of the next season. Mike D’Antoni, the coach who had figured out how to utilize Diaw best, had left to coach the Knicks, and Diaw saw his minutes cut yet again under new coach Terry Porter. Both he and Raja Bell (who was also included in the deal) had been open about the fact that they were frustrated with the new regime. Diaw thrived in his new environment, and while the Bobcats would miss the playoffs, they finished the season stronger than they started. There was also a new weapon that Diaw added to his arsenal: a reliable three point shot. Diaw went from taking less than one three per game to taking 2.8 per game in Charlotte, and he knocked them down at a 41.9% clip. Now, Diaw was an even more devastating offensive weapon. He could bully small defenders, drive past slower defenders, make help defenders pay by finding the open man, and now, you couldn’t sag off of him at the top of the key because he might drain a long range jumper. The next year, Diaw would start in all 82 games as the Bobcats made the playoffs for the first time under that moniker. Their success would be short-lived, however, as they would be swept in the first round. The team’s performance would also slide the following season after giving up Tyson Chandler in a trade and losing Raymond Felton in free agency. D.J. Augustin was given a larger role he wasn’t quite ready for, and Chandler’s minutes were replaced by the likes of Nazr Mohammed and Kwame Brown. Unsurprisingly, the Bobcats missed the playoffs, and things were about to get worse for them. Much, much worse.
The 2011-2012 Bobcats would finish the year with the worst record in NBA history, going 7-59 in a lockout shortened season. Diaw was dreadful, as his shooting splits dropped from 49.2/34.5/68.3 to 41.0/26.7/63.0. He was unquestionably in the worst shape of his career. The Bobcats would waive Diaw, and it seemed as if his days as an NBA player could be numbered, even though he was just 29 years old. In an article for CBSSports, Ben Golliver noted that there were questions about Diaw’s conditioning, and that the Bobcats were in a lose/lose situation with Diaw. When he played well, he hurt their draft lottery odds, and when he was bad, he was eating up developmental minutes that could go to younger players. Thankfully for Diaw, the Spurs would pick him up. Though his minutes were the lowest they had ever been, Diaw’s shot came around in San Antonio, and the Spurs would retain him during the off-season, signing him to a two year deal. Not only had a career crisis been averted, but a career renaissance was on the horizon.
Spurs Diaw was my favorite version of Boris Diaw. Though he wasn’t as mobile as he was earlier in his career, he was the most physically powerful he had ever been, and did a great job of finishing around the basket. Tim Duncan hated being listed as a center, so Boris Diaw was a perfect compliment; you could call Diaw the center, have him defend the other team’s biggest man, and still have no compromise in spacing because of his perimeter skills. Lastly, Diaw’s passing craft was still sharp, and now, with several years of NBA experience under his belt, he was making better reads than ever. The Spurs teams of that era have been dubbed “The Beautiful Game Spurs” because of how well the team moved the ball. Extra passes, fake passes, and drive-and-dish plays would create chaos for opposing defenses. Other teams would be sent into a tizzy trying to keep up as the Spurs fielded line-ups composed of players who were all well above average at passing for their position. The Spurs reached the finals in the 2012-2013 season, and though they had the LeBron/Wade/Bosh Heat on the ropes, the Heat managed to pull off an incredible game six comeback and then vanquish the Spurs’ title hopes in game seven.
The following year, some pundits wrote off the Spurs, as they were a veteran (read: old) team the prior season and would only be older. Still, the Spurs rolled on their way to a Finals rematch against the Heat. This time, the Heat couldn’t keep up, and the Spurs won the championship after a 4-1 series. Boris Diaw didn’t have the best shooting percentage during the series, but he was a critical player for the Spurs, playing 35.2 minutes per game. The Heat had begun to rely on smaller, faster line-ups with more shooting, and Diaw was the perfect antidote. He could hang on the defensive side with his savvy and footwork, as well as his ability to get into the right position in short order. On offense, he didn’t compromise spacing, but he could still take advantage of mismatches. When the trophy was brought onto the floor, and the confetti fell, the focus was on people like Tim Duncan and Gregg Popovich, who despite being written off as too shopworn, had once again reached the top of the mountain. But my focus was largely on Boris Diaw, who had also been written off at several points, but for entirely different reasons. I couldn’t stop smiling for him.
Diaw’s post-ring career isn’t all that interesting to me. What is interesting is his uncanny journey. He was a strange player coming into the league, no one knew what to make of him, he was often a punching bag for his weight, and he was derided for being mentally weak, but now, he had earned an irrevocable achievement. After being misused early in his career, emerging as a great player only to then see his minutes cut year over year, and after being let go by the worst team in NBA history, Boris Diaw was now a ring-wearer. His story gives me confidence in myself and is a constant reassurance. As a fellow (former) chubby guy who didn’t fit into a singular box, Boris Diaw’s career has been a persistent reminder that it’s okay to be unlike anyone else. Even if you are weird, you can be a champion.