There's an article floating around the NBA's corner of the Internet detailing last summer's free agent courting of LaMarcus Aldridge. A four-time All-Star, Aldridge was the NBA's version of a five-star recruit, with the glitz and glamour of the Los Angeles Lakers, the incumbent Portland Trailblazers, the hometown Dallas Mavericks, the up-and-coming Phoenix Suns, the feisty Toronto Raptors, the late-coming Miami Heat and, the ultimate winners, San Antonio Spurs coming at the 6-11 power forward over a three-day period.
Anyone who's ever been on a recruiting trip can identify with the separate recruiting pitches thrown out by some of basketball's biggest brands, but the most interesting part of Adrian Wojnarowksi's piece is how the Spurs wooed Aldridge over.
The Spurs couldn't offer the most money, or the most shots, or the most marketing opportunities. In fact, if that's all he really sought, the Spurs were probably the worst destination Aldridge could have picked.
The Spurs also weren't the first team in the door. "I'm not calling anyone at midnight. I'll be in bed," Popovich said in advance of the NBA's free agency period. "And if that's the difference in someone coming or not coming, then I don't want them."
Yet they signed him anyway.
Two things were missing in the San Antonio Spurs’ meeting on July 1: Cell phones and championship rings.
Spurs general manager R.C. Buford met LaMarcus Aldridge, Wasserman Media’s Arn Tellem and George David in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel on Wednesday morning and walked them upstairs to a suite. By design, they weren’t bringing him into a cold, sterile conference room. Popovich, Buford and Kawhi Leonard sat on one couch; Tim Duncan, Tony Parker and Patty Mills across the way. Popovich wore a T-shirt and jeans. Some of the players wore sweat suits.
There were no corporate Chips or Chets, no marketing gurus, no one spitting out platitudes on synergies. No one stole glances to iPhones, checked emails and texts. All eyes were on Aldridge. These were the Spurs, and, Gregg Popovich told him, these are the people who’ll dictate your happiness and fulfillment every day. The Spurs surrounded LaMarcus Aldridge and it felt like a family conversation in the living room.
Popovich did not speak of the five NBA championships, the six trips to the NBA Finals. Never once. They didn’t play the part of Pat Riley with LeBron James and drop championship rings on the table; in fact, they never acknowledged winning titles. The Spurs never assured him that together they would win championships, only that he’d enjoy the pursuit, the experience.
The Spurs chase tomorrow, never living in yesterday. One by one, the players took turns describing what it was like to play for the franchise, and live in the community. Parker described growing up in Paris, but thought now of how it’s pretty amazing that he plans to spend the rest of his life living in South Texas. Every coach was welcome into the front office’s player personnel meetings, Popovich told him, and every scout could come into his coaching staff meetings. That’s the embodiment of one organization, free of factions and agendas. When other free-agency suitors sold Aldridge on what they believed he wanted to hear – all the shots, all the billboards, all the credit – the Spurs told him: We have never been about one player, and never will.
While the Spurs' pitch was impressive, Miami Heat president Pat Riley unknowingly closed the deal for San Antonio. “He told me, ‘You’re a good player, but you can be great,’ ” Aldridge said. “I’ve had good seasons on my own, but to win, you’ve got to have other big-time guys with you. When you have other guys who are willing to take that sacrifice with you – maybe you all go from averaging 23-24 points to 18-19 points – and you can all do it together.
“Eventually, it becomes a road in your career, whether you have to decide whether you want to keep having these crazy stats, or do you want to win a championship?”
In the end, the Spurs couldn't offer the money Portland couldn't. Nor could they offer the chance to become the Greatest Spur Ever (as Portland could), or the chance to become a celebrity (Lakers), or the chance to be the undisputed face of the franchise (Phoenix). But San Antonio had what the others didn't: culture. And, this time at least, culture won.