What an extraordinarily disappointing ending to the season that was. The Sixers fell on their home floor in game 7 to the Atlanta Hawks 103-96. In a year full of uncommon parity and new blood in the Conference Finals (neither the Los Angeles Clippers or Phoenix Suns has ever won a chip, the Hawks haven't since 1958, and the Milwaukee Bucks haven't since 1971), Philadelphia wasted a golden opportunity to do something special.
Instead, we're left wondering what-if, and watching an upstart Hawks team that was actually outscored by 20 points over the course of the 7-game series take our rightful place.
This is truly one of the most gut-wrenching defeats in Philly sports history.
So how did we get here? Like with the first round, this final recap will be more of a series-long lookback as opposed to a one-game summary of events. Let's sort out the rubble?
Danny Green's loss meant a whole lot more than we could have known
Furkan Korkmaz started in Green's stead in the four games the latter missed with a calf strain. The Turkish guard averaged 7.5 points on 35.5/25.0/60.0. Green was not having the very best postseason of his career either offensively (7.0 points on 43.8/37.8/--) or defensively (let's not talk about that first game with him on Trae Young), but the 34-year-old bought a sense of calmness and quiet leadership and confidence on the court that the Sixers sorely lacked when it mattered most. He also did improve his performance as the series went on, and the Sixers still had absolutely no other option that even approximated his theoretical two-way value. Simply put, Green's fit around the other four starters was bread and butter on both ends, and the opening unit suffered more than you might expect after he went down.
Embiid needed a costar
Joel Embiid averaged 30.4 points, 12.7 rebounds, 3.9 assists, 1.0 steal, and 2.0 blocks in this series...fighting through a partially torn meniscus. A herculean effort befitting of a true superstar, no question. He also saw his efficiency drastically reduced from its regular season levels (46.9/35.7/81.7), visibly wore down as the games went on, and reverted back to his poor, rushed decision making of years past (4.7 turnovers, including 8 crippling giveaways apiece in games 6 and 7). But I'm not here to harp on his mistakes.
Especially since he was damn near going at it alone.
Seth Curry had an outer body experience shooting the basketball all postseason long (18.8 points on 57.8% from the field, including a staggering 50.6% from three), and the Sixers needed every inch of the spacing he provided giving the struggles of the remainder of the roster. But his physical limitations were repeatedly abused on defense, and late in the series with the Hawks, for every critical triple he drained, there was a good chance he was paid back in full on on the other end.
Tobias Harris' raw production seems decent enough on the surface level (19.4 points on 47.5/36.4/84.2 and 7.3 rebounds), but there were long stretches of time, including the entirety of game 5, in which he was a ghost on the court. After doing so much to establish himself as a number 2 scoring option during the regular season and through early playoff contests, we're back wondering if we're stuck with the last three years of his contract.
The bench, apart from a few bright moments here and there, was hilariously overmatched in the entire series. We talked about Danny Green earlier, and besides, he was only ever going to fill the role that he has for better than a decade anyway as a high-end role player. And Ben Simmons...well, more on him in a bit.
And on the other side you see guys like Kevin Huerter dropping 27 points on the road in the first game 7 of his career during his inaugural playoff run. You see Danilo Gallinari shining off the pine (14.7 points in 25.8 minutes on sterling 46.3/44.1/96.3 shooting splits). You see Lou Williams sparking comebacks. You see John Collins averaging a double-double. You see a team without an all-star rallying around its best player in Trae Young. You see the formula for a Conference finalist.
We need to talk about Doc Rivers...
How long of a leash does one championship ring afford a guy before his legacy gets raked through the coals? Rivers took the Boston Celtics to the promised land in 2008, and he came within a thrilling game 7 of winning another ring with them in 2010. In the 11 seasons since, he has coached a team beyond the second round just one time, and that was nine years ago. Since then, he has had on his rosters, at varying points in their primes: Joel Embiid, Paul George, Blake Griffin, Kawhi Leonard, Chris Paul, and Ben Simmons, among others. That's a list of perennial All-Star, All-NBA talent (don't sleep on Griffin's pre-injury years), and provided a few more years of good health and steady production, no less than 3, maybe even 4 eventual Hall of Famers.
Rivers' rigid personality and lack of adjustments when it matters most have been well-documented, and I am not here to rehash his postseason choke jobs. But I am here to talk about blowing 18- and 26-point leads in THIS series. About falling to a 5-seed. About inexplicable rotation decisions like going ten-deep in a game 7. About ridiculous, tone deaf, needlessly defensive, spectacularly condescending post game quotes. About not even being able to defend your beleaguered point guard just weeks after telling us we're the crazy ones for not appreciating him. About 'earning' a great nickname by practically stealing it from a Philadelphia icon.
Look, I'm going off the rails here a bit. Everything we know about Rivers the man says his character is through the roof. He is well-spoken and informed about social issues, and has acted as a mentor and role model for many of his players. And in a league where the quantity of black representation still seems woefully insufficient off the court despite being so thoroughly dominated by their presence on it, it is unquestionably inspiring that he just completed his 22nd consecutive year patrolling the bench for an NBA team. But nobody ever questioned any of that. Is he still an elite basketball coach? That is very much up for discussion.
We also need to talk about Ben Simmons...
You knew this was coming. The ostensible second 'star' The Process gave us just finished a full playoff series averaging 9.9 points, attempted three 4th quarter field goals total in seven games, and finished with the worst postseason free throw percentage in league history (34.2%) among players who took at least 70 freebies. He scored 19 points in games 5-7 combined. By the last game, he looked so shellshocked that he was passing up wide-open dunks. His universally praised defense (and indeed, he helped stymie Trae Young--the third-year guard averaged 29.0 points and 10.2 assists, but those numbers came on 39.2/32.3/85.5 shooting and with 3.6 turnovers) couldn't make up for his utter disappearing act on the offensive end.
It was an implosion of epic proportions, and his shortcomings were direct parallels to the Sixers' collapse as a collective. Now what happens with him? Trade winds are naturally swirling with gale force now, and I'm cool with that. Actually, I'm more than cool with that--I don't think after this showing it ever works with him here. This could be one of those situations where the divide between player and city personality runs so deep that even if he bounced back better than ever next year, he still wouldn't feel at home. The Philadelphia faithful have uniformly deemed him soft and heartless, and once those labels are given out here, it's nearly impossible to shake them. A divorce is likely the best think that can happen for both sides.
But logistically, what would that look like? Simmons is maxed out for the next four years, and his value is in the crater after his startlingly poor performance. Popular trade ideas floated include matching up with the Portland trail Blazers and swapping Simmons for C.J. McCollum, a 6'3" scoring guard who does everything that the former cannot do (shoot the lights out, self-create) but almost nothing he can (defend at an elite level, push pace in transition, rebound). I like McCollum, and Embiid would certainly be his best self with the improved spacing and freedom to own the ball, but that still rings a bit hollow to me. Even at the nadir of his career, we're still talking about a 24-year old 3-time All-Star with otherworldly physical gifts tailormade for the modern NBA even if his skillset is at odds with it. Surely the mere intrigue of the player he could be is worth more than a one-for-one deal with a distressed asset? If not, then things are even worse than I thought.
What's Next?
A long offseason of soul-searching...and likely some bigggg changes.