Grizzlies-Clippers: Chris Paul and the Chain of Command

The one series many pinned their hopes to, or even banked on outright, to go deep and probably damn near close to the magical phrase “Game Seven” was the Memphis Grizzlies and Los Angeles Clippers. Two up-and-comers in the Western Conference, both dangerous in their own right to both each other and down the road in the postseason, it seemed that there likely just wasn’t enough of a separation on either side to warrant a short series. Then, of course, Memphis went from a sinister-looking level of play to completely burnt out in Game One, breathing life into the Clippers and turning the series on its head after one contest. After squaring things up in Game Two, the Grizzlies, with last night’s overtime loss in Game Four coming on the heels of another close defeat in Game Three, are on the brink when they return to Memphis on Wednesday night; they appear just gritty-and-grindy enough to make each game in this series as ugly as they want them to be, yet there’s a feeling in these contests that they’re simply hanging on rather than dictating flow like we saw in last season’s first round upset of the San Antonio Spurs.

The difference right now between the Clippers and Grizzlies is that when Memphis needs a bucket, they go to Rudy Gay — but rather, Gay asserts himself over the offense whether that’s the best option at the time or not. With the Grizzlies, that’s the problem: It’s hard to say what the best, or better, idea is when it comes to closing out a game late. Last year, it was Zach Randolph taking and making seemingly every big shot down the stretch. This year he has been almost completely bottled up by Reggie Evans, a match-up few predicted would be so one-sided, especially in Evans’ favor. Marc Gasol’s lack of involvement in the Memphis offense is borderline scary and while O.J. Mayo certainly can come off the bench and hit perimeter jumpers, the coverage remains spotty. Other than Gay, point guard Mike Conley has been the most assertive and dependable offensive weapon for the Grizzlies, but there’s a sense that the correct option remains to be found and Memphis has too many lights blinking in front of them at the same time to properly determine the best course of action, so instead, Gay takes matters into his own hands for better or worse.

The Clippers do not face such a crisis in the hierarchy of the late-game scenario because they have Chris Paul. What Paul brings to Los Angeles, other than the litany of huge jumpers, unstoppable, perfectly-timed knives to the basket and chippy leadership that has overflowed to the rest of his team (that all?) is simplicity and calm when a game hits its peak. By taking all the thinking out of who’s going to shoot or create, Paul not only accepts the burden and makes the ultimate decisions, he eliminates confusion — if another Clipper is going to have direct sway in a game it will likely be because of Paul’s direction in some manner and not because, like the Grizzlies, the process of knowing the best option remains a mystery in this series.

The Clippers and Grizzlies appear evenly-matched enough to give us the seven-game brawl that could save the first round from ending quietly, without much of any fuss at all. They still could deliver on this and it shouldn’t surprise anyone if the series lives on past Wednesday night in Memphis, but lost in the Grizzlies’ well-rounded wealth of options is the fact that the ball can still only be in one place at a time and without a plan, options sometimes open the door for doubt. In Chris Paul, the Clippers have the formula for crunch-time and subsequent peace of mind that accompanies it. But really, they just have Chris Paul, and he might be all the difference Los Angeles needs.