Sunday, August 19, 2018

Being Grateful For The Dallas Wings.

A little before noon on January 22, 2017, my wife and I settled into our season ticket seats in Carmichael Arena to watch our beloved Tar Heels take on Muffet McGraw's Notre Dame. The game was a big deal, nationally televised with The Goddesses LaChina Robinson and Beth Mowins on the call for ESPNU. Our seats are across from the visitor's bench, and we could see them prepping and talking during commercials up in the little crow's nest broadcast platform on the opposite wall if the gym. We were giddy before the tip. We knew Carolina were not favored, having gotten off to a rocky 1-5 start in conference play, but 1. never count Coach Hatchell out at home and 2. "let's see if the Irish can back up the hype of this #6 ranking they've got."

Y'all. They did. What followed was four quarters of absolute scorched-earth basketball. The demolition was keyed by the jaw-dropping two-woman game of point guard Lindsay Allen and forward Brianna Turner. They simply took us apart. Pick literally any high-low action you can think of, any set, those two ran 'em all to devastating effect. Everything fueled off Allen and Turner's telepathic connection, the sort that makes great teams so thrilling to watch. By the second quarter, our defense was playing like they had the Sowrd of Damocles hanging over their heads, which, basically, they did. Allen and Turner were a wormhole, a massive cataclysmic force distorting the gravity of the entire court. Once the Heels' D got sucked into that wormhole, the floodgates opened. Allen had an off shooting night (2/7 from the floor) but tossed up 11 dimes and 6 boards to balance out her 5 points scored. Turner ripped off a monster 24 and 12 with 6 blocks. The rest of the Irish finished the job, including 13 points from Marina Mabrey, 10 from Jackie Young, and 11 from Arike Ogunbowale (whom you may have heard of by now). It's brutal to watch this sort of thing happen to your squad, in your gym, but at a certain point you just have to shake your head and laugh. Watching Allen and Turner cook was a mesmerizing, breathtaking experience. Any time you get to see players with that level of on-court chemistry, who know precisely where each other are and what each other will do at all times, it's special.

Enter this season's Dallas Wings, and the sheer delight of watching Skylar Diggins-Smith and Liz Cambage. I tend to adopt at least one other squad besides my team in any sport to kind of follow and root for over a given season, and this year's Wings were a no-brainer. Cambage and SkyDiggs are what would happen if you plugged Allen and Turner into a guitar amp, dimed out all the knobs, and let it rip. (Call it the Allen-Turner Overdrive. *sorry*)

The Wings have had what could politely be described as a tumultuous season. Plagued by truly horrific injury luck and sometimes erratic play on the court, this has been a burdensome and frustrating journey. But through it all, Cambage and Diggins-Smith have been absolute appointment viewing, playing with a collective alchemy of precision, fury, and outright joy that cannot be contained.

Diggins-Smith has averaged 18.2 points and 6.2 assists this season, a deadly combination of scoring threat and floor general. Even when things were at their shakiest (and that's been too often for Dallas this year), she keeps finding ways to push, to keep her team in it, to find the creases in a defense and slot in the pass or slither in to knock down the shot.

Cambage, obviously, has had a year for the ages. 22.7 ppg, 9.7 boards, 2.3 assists, murderous defense, and obliterating plenty of records along the way. (Plus that All Star Game dunk, y'all.) There's no one else like her in the league. Her presence in the paint is like a tank; you can't move her off her spot, and her firepower will put craters in things. Although, no tank ever built could be as agile and, being an inanimate object lacking a voicebox, could not approach her level of banter and smack talk, on-court or off.

The real magic, though, is their complete and beautiful synergy. It's that wormhole-gravity-warping thing. When they're on, your defense is going to be sucked in and then destroyed. And they love doing this to opposing teams. They Love It. They take such pride and enthusiasm in their work; bending a possession to their will and reveling in the wreckage they leave behind afterwards. It's an expression of art and love attenuated to the highest level of talent. And good grief, is it beautiful to watch.

Despite their brilliance, that beauty and artistry hasn't quite translated to wins. Too little depth via injuries, too much onus on the two of them to keep a sometimes struggling team afloat. All of it led to a late-season nine-game losing skid which included the firing of head coach Fred Williams. Dallas looked to be in free fall, their playoff chances thinned down to a sliver of hope. But they had a chance at catharsis and revival on Friday Night against the Aces, who just happened to be standing directly in the Wings' path to the final playoff spot. What happened next was spellbinding.

The short version is 107-102 Wings, securing a playoff spot and wiping away the tumult and struggle of the year in dramatic fashion.  I guess I could write more about the game, but Dorothy J. Gentry already did it so well I'm not even going to try. I'd just embarrass myself. Y'all, just click this link: her piece on that game, this team, and SkyDiggs and Cambage is just gorgeous.

That post-game moment, Cambage and Diggins-Smith in each other's arms, letting out all the frustrations of the year and physically embodying their connection, will be one of the first moments that leaps to mind any time we think back on what has been possibly the best WNBA season ever.  It's all there in that photo; the pain and fight, the strength they've drawn from each other all year, the release. This is why we Watch Them Work. Because The Work can culminate in moments like this, and we are better and richer for witnessing them.

And I'm just grateful right now, y'all. Grateful their season isn't over. Grateful this ride isn't done yet. This off season is going to be a true turning point for the W. The issues of pay and travel, which Cambage, along with many others, has so fiercely and eloquently spoken on all year, may cause her to leave the league if serious headway is not made. (Which, to be clear, it's on the league if they lose Cambage and anyone else who decides they've had enough.) Those conversations are coming. But in this moment, grateful is all I can feel. These two women on a basketball court together just torching opponents in the most brutal and creative of all possible ways have been one of the highlights of the summer. For at least a few more games, we get to watch Skylar Diggins-Smith and Liz Cambage perform their special brand of gleefully destructive magic. Happy final day of the regular season. Let's make the most of it. 

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