Adelman wants Timberwolves to get greedy


MINNEAPOLIS
— The most valuable thing Rick Adelman offered his Timberwolves after Wednesday's 90-86 loss to Memphis had nothing to do with what happened on the court. It wasn't advice on technique. It was hardly a new game plan.

Instead, Adelman offered perspective, a different definition of success than his team may have previously considered.

"I felt at (the) shootaround this morning they were way too relaxed in their approach," Adelman said. "You haven't won anything."

To the coach, who's won 947 games in his career, two wins are just that: nothing. But to his team, comprised heavily of rookies and players who scuffled through last season with just 17 wins, two wins mean something. Perhaps they shouldn't.

Adelman said that he didn't think his team came into the game with the proper attitude, and instead of getting complacent, it needed to recognize how it won its last two games and build off that going forward. But a certain irony lies in the fact that several players seemed to have a clear picture of the factors that led to those wins — as recently as Wednesday morning.

After that same "too relaxed" shootaround, Anthony Tolliver pointed out that last season the team went into games with the expectation that it could win, but it always seemed to break down when it counted. Luke Ridnour talked about the increased ball movement and teamwork that the Timberwolves have exhibited this year, and how last year's team never could never master that.

From those descriptions, it would seem that the 2010-2011 team took the court against Memphis, not this new, united and focused group that the players described.

Tolliver also spoke of something intangible, an element of control that the team captured in each of its wins.

"We never dictated things last year," Tolliver said. "We always were adjusting to the other team. Now we're making the other team adjust to us and put personnel on the floor to adjust to us. I think that's a huge reason why we're having success."

But on Wednesday, the Timberwolves abdicated any position of control that they could have held.

The key to control, to making opponents adjust, is developing a rhythm, and Adelman said his team struggled to find that rhythm all night. With this team's offense, the fluid passing and quick pace, rhythm is key. Without rhythm, Ricky Rubio's speed might get out of control. Quick passes might become Memphis steals, and shots that were beautiful on Monday might suddenly appear sloppy and amateurish.

As always, turnovers were an obstacle, and the Timberwolves did nothing to counter their reputation as among the NBA's worst in that category. They surrendered 17 turnovers for 23 Memphis points and have a season average of 16.5 per game.

The ultimate loss of control, however, came at the free-throw line. It's the safest spot in basketball, the place where distractions all but disappear and points should be easy. However, the Timberwolves failed at the line and let Memphis have far too many opportunities there.

The Timberwolves missed 11 of their 24 attempts, and they let the game come down to fouls at the end. As the clock wound down, the game hinged not on the Timberwolves succeeding, but on the Grizzlies failing. There was nothing Adelman's team could do but hope.

"It's tough, you know," Ridnour said. "You've got to give them credit. (Mike) Conley hit some great free throws, and we had our opportunities at the free-throw line as well and just didn't convert."

There were glimpses of a team effort on Wednesday night, especially when Rubio entered the game in the first quarter and was a key factor in narrowing what was a 15-point Memphis lead to only six. But for this team, glimpses are far from enough. The success they've had is tenuous at best.

"We don't have that much of a margin of error," Adelman said.

At worst, Wednesday's loss was a failure to play as a team, to translate what the players have learned in practices and wins into a method. At best, it's a healthy dose of reality, 48 minutes of basketball that served as a pinch to wake up a sluggish team.

After letting another close one slip away, there's no way this team can stay asleep.