- Joined
- Oct 5, 2008
- Messages
- 127,009
- Likes
- 147,623
- Points
- 115
One by one across the country, their phones lit up and vibrated, a text message arriving to members of the Portland Trail Blazers with an idea that could change their upcoming season.
For some, like Meyers Leonard in Portland, the number with the 510 area code was already programmed into his phone. Others, like rookie Pat Connaughton in Boston, were perplexed until they opened the message.
"Yo Pat, it's Dame. We are going to San Diego to get the team together and to get ready for the season ..."
The texts were from Damian Lillard, the lone starter remaining from a popular and successful Blazers team that disintegrated amid a summer of free agency and trades. Now, as the undisputed star of the team, Lillard was wading into his first wave of leadership.
It was August, and he wanted to get the young and unproven roster together before players started reporting to Portland in September. After some collaboration with teammates CJ McCollum and Leonard, Lillard settled on San Diego.
Soon, 11 Blazers – some complete strangers to each other– were booking flights and hotel reservations.
A Blazers player had never, in the franchise's 45 years, attempted an off-season team-building event of this magnitude. Then again, this summer marked one of the biggest transitions in team's history, a swift and purposeful dismantling of a talented squad in favor of a rebuild with cheaper and younger players.
Success this season won't be judged wholey on wins and losses, but rather player development and growth. Among the more visible and tangible storylines is how and what kind of leader Lillard will be, and how much his influence could improve the team.
It's why his August text could determine the course of this season.
For Lillard, the retreat had the chance to be perhaps his greatest coup in a summer filled with career and personal achievement. In July, he signed the richest contract in franchise history – a five year, $120 million extension. Later, he enhanced his business profile with a promotional shoe tour through Japan, China and France. And finally, he released five rap songs hailed by some artists for their smart and revealing lyrics.
He was achieving balance in his personal life, but he couldn't shake basketball and the Blazers from his mind.
By mid-July, when free agency had lured away LaMarcus Aldridge, Wesley Matthews and Robin Lopez, Lillard didn't pause to mourn. It was clear to him he would have to now lead.
"The fact my mind went there right away, that's when I knew I was ready,'' he said.
He also knew directing professionals was easier said than done. An NBA locker room is a delicate environment, layered in ego and unspoken hierarchy. During his first three seasons, Lillard harnessed much of his natural leadership tendencies for fear of overstepping his bounds. He once instigated a team airing of grievances after a loss in San Antonio, but for the most part, he left the fire-and-brimstone speeches to Matthews, and the tone-setting to Aldridge.
Now, he's free to lead as he sees fit, and he knows that means he'll encounter tough decisions. He knows he won't always be popular.
But more than anything, he knows none of his leadership efforts will resonate unless his teammates understand him. He needs them to see who he is, and how he earned his status.
San Diego, he figured, would be a good place to start.
A different reflection
When he looks in the mirror, Lillard sees a different reflection than the rest of us.
Where we see a unanimous Rookie of the Year, Lillard sees an 11th grader begging college coaches to recruit him. When we see a two-time All-Star, he sees a small college player whose career was jeopardized by a broken foot. And when we see his franchise record contract, and his status as a national spokesman for adidas, he sees a kid struggling with poverty in Oakland.
He wants his teammates to see the same reflection he did.
"I think he felt they needed to know him, and see that the order of his life and priorities are set,'' said Phil Beckner, his former assistant coach at Weber State who trained with him this summer. "And those priorities are not going to change whether he wants to rap, sell shoes or volunteer at Special Olympics.''
So Lillard settled on San Diego. He made an itinerary for an arrival date and hotel accommodations, and he drafted a workout schedule. Lunch and dinner slots were noted, complete with lobby departure times.
The schedules were sent to the group, which included the entire roster except for veterans Chris Kaman, Gerald Henderson and Mike Miller, and newcomers Moe Harkless and Al-Farouq Aminu, who were playing with their national teams.
The first San Diego workout was scheduled for 10 a.m. on Aug. 31. When the new Blazers arrived, Lillard was already on the court.
There was no mistaking who was running the show. Leonard said Lillard was a steady, encouraging voice, almost like a coach.
"Come on, let's get after it!"
"Let's focus; no wasting time!"
When they went to the beach for conditioning drills, Lillard pushed teammates to go harder, pulled for them to finish.
Leonard, who was drafted by Portland five spots after Lillard, had seen glimpses of Lillard's leadership in his first three seasons. Usually, he led by example. But now, Leonard said Lillard was also using his voice.
"As a leader, he has taken the reins, and it's pretty cool to see,'' Leonard said. "He showed us he is truly invested in this team.''
But it was when Lillard veered away from the team, lost in conversation with a rookie, that he perhaps revealed his greatest vision for the Blazers.
A long walk
During the five-day trip, nine Blazers attended a San Diego Padres game, and as the group meandered out of the stadium, Lillard and Connaughton found themselves immersed in conversation and separated from the rest of the group.
Connaughton, three years younger, wanted to know everything about Lillard's rookie year. He wanted to know what Lillard did after practices. He wanted to know what to wear on the road.
"There were a bunch of little things he said that really stuck with me,'' Connaughton said. "'You don't want to be on time; you want to be early.' 'You don't want to be a hard worker; you want to be the hardest worker.'''
Lillard told Connaughton that being a professional isn't just about on-court performance, but also how you conduct yourself off the court. The way you dress, how you interact with coaches, how you treat your teammates. Someone, Lillard said, is always watching.
But above all, Connaughton remembered one segment about the walk back from the baseball game. They talked about how the team made up of players getting their first real shot, how a lot of guys are potentially looking to make names for themselves.
"And he says, 'If we are going to have success it has to be as one. It can't be 9, 10 guys trying to have their individual success,''' Connaughton said. "We had to get guys to buy in that our personal success will come after the team success.''
The Enforcer makes an appearance
As players returned to Portland, they didn't know if that summer week in San Diego would translate to wins, but they knew who they were following.
Lillard continued to set the tone, both with his work ethic and his voice.
Last week, a fiercely competitive pickup game at the Blazers' practice facility came down to the last basket. McCollum had the ball in transition, headed for the game-winning score as Lillard gave chase. Lillard was able to get his hand on the ball just enough to cause McCollum to bobble it as he headed up for a lay in. As McCollum tried to steady the ball, Luis Montero flew in to try to block it. The combination caused McCollum to miss.
But after Lillard and Montero, none of Lillard's teammates ran back to help defend the fast break. McCollum's missed shot was tipped in – uncontested -- by Phil Pressey for the win.
Lillard let loose.
"I was mad,'' Lillard said. "I told everyone that was unacceptable. ''
Last season, Lillard probably wouldn't have felt comfortable calling out a veteran. Or he might have waited to see whether Aldridge or Matthews would address the miscue. Maybe, it would have just passed, a group of veterans dismissing the laziness as just pickup basketball.
Now there was no hesitation. This is his team, and his tone to establish.
"This is going to take me being a tough person,'' Lillard said. "I have to be able to say, 'I'm going to protect what this team does.' I have to be willing to do stuff that is not popular.'''
He knows his skills as a leader will continue to be tested throughout the long NBA season. He said he will hold to three pillars of his philosophy on leadership: Handle your own business first; don't be afraid; and always place the team above yourself.
"You have to set the standard for how hard you work, and when you do that, you give yourself the right to say something to somebody else,'' Lillard said.
And so it begins, a new era of Trail Blazers basketball, with a freshness and force that haven't been seen in these parts since a rookie named Brandon Roy quieted Zach Randolph during a halftime tirade in Los Angeles nine years ago.
Roy's moment came during a bumpy 32-win season, proof that leadership doesn't always translate to success. If these Blazers are going to struggle, Lillard is intent on making sure it's not from lack of a guiding voice.
After all, it was a movement that started in August, when phones around the country vibrated.
"I mean, you gotta change, you know?'' Lillard said. "I'm big on finding new ways to do stuff. You have to find stuff that might change something. The fact we did it this summer, when everybody was new, next summer we might say, 'Let's go to Hawaii and work out.' It might establish a culture. It might be the change we needed.''
-- Jason Quick | jquick@oregonian.com | @jwquick
http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/i..._message_a_dawning_of_a_new.html#incart_river
For some, like Meyers Leonard in Portland, the number with the 510 area code was already programmed into his phone. Others, like rookie Pat Connaughton in Boston, were perplexed until they opened the message.
"Yo Pat, it's Dame. We are going to San Diego to get the team together and to get ready for the season ..."
The texts were from Damian Lillard, the lone starter remaining from a popular and successful Blazers team that disintegrated amid a summer of free agency and trades. Now, as the undisputed star of the team, Lillard was wading into his first wave of leadership.
It was August, and he wanted to get the young and unproven roster together before players started reporting to Portland in September. After some collaboration with teammates CJ McCollum and Leonard, Lillard settled on San Diego.
Soon, 11 Blazers – some complete strangers to each other– were booking flights and hotel reservations.
A Blazers player had never, in the franchise's 45 years, attempted an off-season team-building event of this magnitude. Then again, this summer marked one of the biggest transitions in team's history, a swift and purposeful dismantling of a talented squad in favor of a rebuild with cheaper and younger players.
Success this season won't be judged wholey on wins and losses, but rather player development and growth. Among the more visible and tangible storylines is how and what kind of leader Lillard will be, and how much his influence could improve the team.
It's why his August text could determine the course of this season.
For Lillard, the retreat had the chance to be perhaps his greatest coup in a summer filled with career and personal achievement. In July, he signed the richest contract in franchise history – a five year, $120 million extension. Later, he enhanced his business profile with a promotional shoe tour through Japan, China and France. And finally, he released five rap songs hailed by some artists for their smart and revealing lyrics.
He was achieving balance in his personal life, but he couldn't shake basketball and the Blazers from his mind.
By mid-July, when free agency had lured away LaMarcus Aldridge, Wesley Matthews and Robin Lopez, Lillard didn't pause to mourn. It was clear to him he would have to now lead.
"The fact my mind went there right away, that's when I knew I was ready,'' he said.
He also knew directing professionals was easier said than done. An NBA locker room is a delicate environment, layered in ego and unspoken hierarchy. During his first three seasons, Lillard harnessed much of his natural leadership tendencies for fear of overstepping his bounds. He once instigated a team airing of grievances after a loss in San Antonio, but for the most part, he left the fire-and-brimstone speeches to Matthews, and the tone-setting to Aldridge.
Now, he's free to lead as he sees fit, and he knows that means he'll encounter tough decisions. He knows he won't always be popular.
But more than anything, he knows none of his leadership efforts will resonate unless his teammates understand him. He needs them to see who he is, and how he earned his status.
San Diego, he figured, would be a good place to start.
A different reflection
When he looks in the mirror, Lillard sees a different reflection than the rest of us.
Where we see a unanimous Rookie of the Year, Lillard sees an 11th grader begging college coaches to recruit him. When we see a two-time All-Star, he sees a small college player whose career was jeopardized by a broken foot. And when we see his franchise record contract, and his status as a national spokesman for adidas, he sees a kid struggling with poverty in Oakland.
He wants his teammates to see the same reflection he did.
"I think he felt they needed to know him, and see that the order of his life and priorities are set,'' said Phil Beckner, his former assistant coach at Weber State who trained with him this summer. "And those priorities are not going to change whether he wants to rap, sell shoes or volunteer at Special Olympics.''
So Lillard settled on San Diego. He made an itinerary for an arrival date and hotel accommodations, and he drafted a workout schedule. Lunch and dinner slots were noted, complete with lobby departure times.
The schedules were sent to the group, which included the entire roster except for veterans Chris Kaman, Gerald Henderson and Mike Miller, and newcomers Moe Harkless and Al-Farouq Aminu, who were playing with their national teams.
The first San Diego workout was scheduled for 10 a.m. on Aug. 31. When the new Blazers arrived, Lillard was already on the court.
There was no mistaking who was running the show. Leonard said Lillard was a steady, encouraging voice, almost like a coach.
"Come on, let's get after it!"
"Let's focus; no wasting time!"
When they went to the beach for conditioning drills, Lillard pushed teammates to go harder, pulled for them to finish.
Leonard, who was drafted by Portland five spots after Lillard, had seen glimpses of Lillard's leadership in his first three seasons. Usually, he led by example. But now, Leonard said Lillard was also using his voice.
"As a leader, he has taken the reins, and it's pretty cool to see,'' Leonard said. "He showed us he is truly invested in this team.''
But it was when Lillard veered away from the team, lost in conversation with a rookie, that he perhaps revealed his greatest vision for the Blazers.
A long walk
During the five-day trip, nine Blazers attended a San Diego Padres game, and as the group meandered out of the stadium, Lillard and Connaughton found themselves immersed in conversation and separated from the rest of the group.
Connaughton, three years younger, wanted to know everything about Lillard's rookie year. He wanted to know what Lillard did after practices. He wanted to know what to wear on the road.
"There were a bunch of little things he said that really stuck with me,'' Connaughton said. "'You don't want to be on time; you want to be early.' 'You don't want to be a hard worker; you want to be the hardest worker.'''
Lillard told Connaughton that being a professional isn't just about on-court performance, but also how you conduct yourself off the court. The way you dress, how you interact with coaches, how you treat your teammates. Someone, Lillard said, is always watching.
But above all, Connaughton remembered one segment about the walk back from the baseball game. They talked about how the team made up of players getting their first real shot, how a lot of guys are potentially looking to make names for themselves.
"And he says, 'If we are going to have success it has to be as one. It can't be 9, 10 guys trying to have their individual success,''' Connaughton said. "We had to get guys to buy in that our personal success will come after the team success.''
The Enforcer makes an appearance
As players returned to Portland, they didn't know if that summer week in San Diego would translate to wins, but they knew who they were following.
Lillard continued to set the tone, both with his work ethic and his voice.
Last week, a fiercely competitive pickup game at the Blazers' practice facility came down to the last basket. McCollum had the ball in transition, headed for the game-winning score as Lillard gave chase. Lillard was able to get his hand on the ball just enough to cause McCollum to bobble it as he headed up for a lay in. As McCollum tried to steady the ball, Luis Montero flew in to try to block it. The combination caused McCollum to miss.
But after Lillard and Montero, none of Lillard's teammates ran back to help defend the fast break. McCollum's missed shot was tipped in – uncontested -- by Phil Pressey for the win.
Lillard let loose.
"I was mad,'' Lillard said. "I told everyone that was unacceptable. ''
Last season, Lillard probably wouldn't have felt comfortable calling out a veteran. Or he might have waited to see whether Aldridge or Matthews would address the miscue. Maybe, it would have just passed, a group of veterans dismissing the laziness as just pickup basketball.
Now there was no hesitation. This is his team, and his tone to establish.
"This is going to take me being a tough person,'' Lillard said. "I have to be able to say, 'I'm going to protect what this team does.' I have to be willing to do stuff that is not popular.'''
He knows his skills as a leader will continue to be tested throughout the long NBA season. He said he will hold to three pillars of his philosophy on leadership: Handle your own business first; don't be afraid; and always place the team above yourself.
"You have to set the standard for how hard you work, and when you do that, you give yourself the right to say something to somebody else,'' Lillard said.
And so it begins, a new era of Trail Blazers basketball, with a freshness and force that haven't been seen in these parts since a rookie named Brandon Roy quieted Zach Randolph during a halftime tirade in Los Angeles nine years ago.
Roy's moment came during a bumpy 32-win season, proof that leadership doesn't always translate to success. If these Blazers are going to struggle, Lillard is intent on making sure it's not from lack of a guiding voice.
After all, it was a movement that started in August, when phones around the country vibrated.
"I mean, you gotta change, you know?'' Lillard said. "I'm big on finding new ways to do stuff. You have to find stuff that might change something. The fact we did it this summer, when everybody was new, next summer we might say, 'Let's go to Hawaii and work out.' It might establish a culture. It might be the change we needed.''
-- Jason Quick | jquick@oregonian.com | @jwquick
http://www.oregonlive.com/blazers/i..._message_a_dawning_of_a_new.html#incart_river
