An Ode to Boris Diaw, an NBA Unicorn
Boris Diaw was never going to be the best player on the court. He was never going to put up 30 point games in his sleep. He was never going to attract tons of sponsorship deals. He was never going to have the cut physique usually associated with that of a professional athlete's.
No, Boris Diaw was anything but a conventional basketball player, but he was one of the most unique, thoughtful and likable people the league has ever come across, and his exotic personality will be dearly missed.
After receiving no interest as an unrestricted free agent this offseason, Diaw, now a grizzled 35 years of age, inked a deal today with French basketball squad Paris Levallois. But while his career in the NBA may be over, his legend will live on for quite some time.
The best adjective to describe Boris Diaw is probably quixotic.
He was the type of character who installed an electric coffee grinder right in his locker room stall. He was the type of goofball who would let his weight balloon to 250 lbs, but still win every team suicide (a drill where players have to run to one side of the court then back in a short amount of time). He was the type of guy who coach Gregg Popovitch would substitute into blowouts so he would "lose more weight." He was the type of maniac who would walk into the gym with flip flops and a cappuccino, and break the vertical jump record on his first try. He was the type of guy where Pop and the Spurs would have a pool guessing his weight, then respond to that with this Instagram post:
https://www.instagram.com/p/tf7v55DI3A/
You know a player is special when most stories about him have nothing to do with his actual basketball skill set. And though Diaw was never the alpha dog who would execute killer crossovers and awe-inspiring slam dunks, he killed you with his smarts, flexibility and ingenious passing angles.
While a massive part of Diaw's legend is his quirky and lovable personality, his eccentric style of play was the most fascinating aspect of his career. He was one of those position-less players before that became all the rage. He had the passing chops to play point guard and the physical skills to bang in the post.
Just feast your eyes on Diaw carving up opponents with these ridiculous passes.
Even though we worship them, professional athletes can sometimes feel like they are another species (That's probably why we worship them). They are commonly so much faster, bigger, stronger and better than 99% of the rest of the world. But Diaw's style of play made it seem as if my 50 year old uncle could trot out there and compete with the NBA stars.
Diaw's unselfish and competitive yet relaxed nature are the dream traits that a coach could want in his player. Perhaps peak Diaw was in the 2014 finals, where he emerged as the 5th puzzle piece to a Tim Duncan-Tony Parker-Manu Ginobli-Kawhi Leonard lineup. He obliterated the LeBron James-led Miami Heat, threading pinpoint passes and knocking down backbreaking three-pointers late in the shot clock, as well as guarding virtually everybody on defense.
Even I myself have a small Boris Diaw story. I live in Los Angeles, so let's just say I know which hotels NBA teams stay at when they come to play the Lakers or Clippers. So one day in 2014 after school, my brother and I went to the hotel we knew the Spurs stayed at. After we sidestepped security's fruitless attempts to keep excited boys away from meeting pro basketball players, we perched ourselves at the elevator, where we knew the players were coming down.
Out walked Coach Pop (he was gracious and took a photo with us). Then the Red Rocket (he was generous with his time too). Cory Joseph. Kyle Anderson. Danny Green. Tim Duncan (he stared forward like a robot and interacted with nobody; he was also wearing an oversized flannel shirt).
Finally, Diaw trotted out, holding what appeared to be three suitcases and about five full sized-basketballs. He took a seat in the lounge and started signing them. I nervously walked up to him and said "Hey, Boris!" and took a seat next to him.
I could tell he was signing them to give away to kids (no, I didn't ask for or receive one). I told him what a joy its was watching him on those old "7 Seconds or Less" Suns teams.
"Haha. those were good times. Thank you," he said softly.
Then I informed him how the team got robbed when he and Amare Stoudamire were suspended for stepping on the court during a brawl with the Spurs in the playoffs a while back.
Boris chuckled.
"Yea, that was unfortunate," he smiled.
After he finished signing the balls, I thanked him for giving the time up to chat with me. He was once again gracious. After he left for the team bus and a hotel staffer told me not to disturb the players again, my brother and I went home, happy as can be.
Fast forward a few years, and Boris Diaw's time in the league hasn't been very eventful in terms of on-court impact. His playing time had decreased dramatically and he had a much harder time keeping up on defense. If you watched him play the past year, you realized his departure from the NBA was inevitable.
But his last few years do not define Boris Diaw. His legacy will never mention triple doubles and All-Star games. He will forever be remembered for his joyfulness in playing the game and being beloved by every teammate and coach who crossed his path.
Boris, if this is the end, thanks for a special, unique and exuberant ride.
No, Boris Diaw was anything but a conventional basketball player, but he was one of the most unique, thoughtful and likable people the league has ever come across, and his exotic personality will be dearly missed.
After receiving no interest as an unrestricted free agent this offseason, Diaw, now a grizzled 35 years of age, inked a deal today with French basketball squad Paris Levallois. But while his career in the NBA may be over, his legend will live on for quite some time.
The best adjective to describe Boris Diaw is probably quixotic.
He was the type of character who installed an electric coffee grinder right in his locker room stall. He was the type of goofball who would let his weight balloon to 250 lbs, but still win every team suicide (a drill where players have to run to one side of the court then back in a short amount of time). He was the type of guy who coach Gregg Popovitch would substitute into blowouts so he would "lose more weight." He was the type of maniac who would walk into the gym with flip flops and a cappuccino, and break the vertical jump record on his first try. He was the type of guy where Pop and the Spurs would have a pool guessing his weight, then respond to that with this Instagram post:
https://www.instagram.com/p/tf7v55DI3A/
You know a player is special when most stories about him have nothing to do with his actual basketball skill set. And though Diaw was never the alpha dog who would execute killer crossovers and awe-inspiring slam dunks, he killed you with his smarts, flexibility and ingenious passing angles.
While a massive part of Diaw's legend is his quirky and lovable personality, his eccentric style of play was the most fascinating aspect of his career. He was one of those position-less players before that became all the rage. He had the passing chops to play point guard and the physical skills to bang in the post.
Just feast your eyes on Diaw carving up opponents with these ridiculous passes.
Even though we worship them, professional athletes can sometimes feel like they are another species (That's probably why we worship them). They are commonly so much faster, bigger, stronger and better than 99% of the rest of the world. But Diaw's style of play made it seem as if my 50 year old uncle could trot out there and compete with the NBA stars.
Diaw's unselfish and competitive yet relaxed nature are the dream traits that a coach could want in his player. Perhaps peak Diaw was in the 2014 finals, where he emerged as the 5th puzzle piece to a Tim Duncan-Tony Parker-Manu Ginobli-Kawhi Leonard lineup. He obliterated the LeBron James-led Miami Heat, threading pinpoint passes and knocking down backbreaking three-pointers late in the shot clock, as well as guarding virtually everybody on defense.
Even I myself have a small Boris Diaw story. I live in Los Angeles, so let's just say I know which hotels NBA teams stay at when they come to play the Lakers or Clippers. So one day in 2014 after school, my brother and I went to the hotel we knew the Spurs stayed at. After we sidestepped security's fruitless attempts to keep excited boys away from meeting pro basketball players, we perched ourselves at the elevator, where we knew the players were coming down.
Out walked Coach Pop (he was gracious and took a photo with us). Then the Red Rocket (he was generous with his time too). Cory Joseph. Kyle Anderson. Danny Green. Tim Duncan (he stared forward like a robot and interacted with nobody; he was also wearing an oversized flannel shirt).
Finally, Diaw trotted out, holding what appeared to be three suitcases and about five full sized-basketballs. He took a seat in the lounge and started signing them. I nervously walked up to him and said "Hey, Boris!" and took a seat next to him.
I could tell he was signing them to give away to kids (no, I didn't ask for or receive one). I told him what a joy its was watching him on those old "7 Seconds or Less" Suns teams.
"Haha. those were good times. Thank you," he said softly.
Then I informed him how the team got robbed when he and Amare Stoudamire were suspended for stepping on the court during a brawl with the Spurs in the playoffs a while back.
Boris chuckled.
"Yea, that was unfortunate," he smiled.
After he finished signing the balls, I thanked him for giving the time up to chat with me. He was once again gracious. After he left for the team bus and a hotel staffer told me not to disturb the players again, my brother and I went home, happy as can be.
Fast forward a few years, and Boris Diaw's time in the league hasn't been very eventful in terms of on-court impact. His playing time had decreased dramatically and he had a much harder time keeping up on defense. If you watched him play the past year, you realized his departure from the NBA was inevitable.
But his last few years do not define Boris Diaw. His legacy will never mention triple doubles and All-Star games. He will forever be remembered for his joyfulness in playing the game and being beloved by every teammate and coach who crossed his path.
Boris, if this is the end, thanks for a special, unique and exuberant ride.
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