Mitch Albom: Cade Cunningham, Pistons outshined by Cavs starting stars
It’s not fair to expect any man to be perfect, and Cade Cunningham is no exception. The problem so far in these maddening playoffs is that, when he’s not perfect, his team’s imperfections become glaring.
Here were the Detroit Pistons in uncharted waters on Wednesday, May 13 – overtime waters, and their boat had sprung a leak. The last time this franchise saw an overtime playoff game was 19 years ago, when most of the current players were still sucking their thumbs. So perhaps they didn’t realize this: In such moments, you traditionally rely on your stars to win it.
Instead, the Pistons were watching their third-string center getting blocked and their backup point guard miss a 3-pointer and another backup guard miss another 3-pointer, while their starting center sat on the bench and their starting shooting guard was in street clothes.
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And then Cunningham, already fatigued from dropping 37 points in regulation and being consistently double-teamed, made two you-can’t-do-that errors: He lost the ball on a careless handle, which turned into a Cleveland layup, and he failed to box out James Harden on a free throw, resulting in a Harden offensive board, precious seconds off the clock and a foul that put two more Harden free throws on the board.
In a five-minute overtime period, that’s enough to swing the game.
“Turning over the ball over in overtime. … I wish I could have that play back for sure,” Cunningham said. “There’s a lot of plays I wish I could take back. But it’s basketball. It’s an imperfect game.”
Right. And Cunningham rises to the challenge way more than he stumbles. But when he does, when the Pistons need someone else to be perfect, they are like Tony Bennett singing that old song: Who can I turn to?
Back to backs to the wall.
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A disaster, in just three minutes
“We aint supposed to lose a lead like that, man,” bemoaned Daniss Jenkins, who made his first career playoff start in place of the injured Duncan Robinson and acquitted himself nicely, with 19 points, three assists, two steals and a block. “We weren’t supposed to go to overtime. … [When you’ve] got that type of lead in the playoffs, we knew what game this was, how important it was. We can’t lose that lead. We gotta be better.”
He's talking about the Pistons being up, at home, 103-94 with three minutes to go and the crowd on its feet. Here is what happened between that moment and the regulation buzzer:
The Pistons gave up an offensive rebound that led to a basket, missed a jumper, missed a 3-pointer, gave up a dunk, had a shot blocked, had a shot clock violation, gave up a 3-pointer, missed another 3-pointer, fouled to give up two free throws, missed two more shots, had another shot clock violation, blocked a shot and got fouled in the final seconds – but didn’t get the call.
That reads like a script of "The Bad News Basketball Bears," not a formula for winning a critical playoff game. That down-the-stretch failure, like firecracker smoke, lingered into the overtime, where Detroit gave up too many shots, missed too many of their own, and Cunningham made those two mistakes and didn’t score until 26 seconds were left.
Now, by contrast, consider the Cavaliers, who had a wildly imperfect night themselves – allowing 20 points off turnovers in the first half. No matter. The team that hadn’t won a road playoff game this postseason got its act together when it counted.
The Cavs scored the last nine points in regulation to force overtime. And who did those points come from? Donovan Mitchell, a perennial All-Star, and Evan Mobley, an All-Star and last season's Defensive Player of the Year, with assists from Harden, who, oh yeah, is going to the Hall of Fame.
Then, in overtime, Mitchell scored seven points, Harden had three, Mobley had two. That’s 12 points from your All-Stars (and starters). Cunningham, in the same stretch, had two points while the rest of the Pistons' scoring, what little there was, came from the backups.
“When they start doubling Cade, what’s the challenge of finding another reliable source of offense?” someone asked coach J.B. Bickerstaff after the loss.
“We’ve got our spots,” he said. “We know where to put the ball. When they do double-teaming … now you’re playing advantage basketball. So we got to take advantage of it.”
The problem is, they haven’t. When Cunningham gets doubled, he’s often forced into bad passes, or he throws to the ball to one of several less-than-desirable options, such as Jalen Duren or Ausar Thompson, neither of whom seem to have any inclination to score. Too often the ball ends up swinging back to Cunningham because no one else can either get a worthwhile shot or feels confident enough to take it.
Jalen Duren, missing in action
This brings us to the giant in the room. Duren, at 6 feet 10, is clearly a physical talent. But let’s just say it. He has, to this point in the playoffs, gone AWOL. He had nine points and five rebounds in Game 5. He sat the entire fourth quarter and overtime. And it wasn’t because of foul trouble.
This is the guy who a month ago, when Bickerstaff was asked what he’d say to critics who claimed the Pistons didn’t have a No. 2 option said, “I’d say Jalen Duren is a hell of a player.”
He may have been in January. He hasn’t been in May. A guy who averaged 20 points a game in earning an All-Star nod is averaging half of that in the postseason and looks timid, fumbling and unsure of himself when he gets the ball. He was asked after Game 5 if he was frustrated sitting on the bench during all that crunch time (in favor of third-string center Paul Reed). Duren said, “My brothers handled it. [Reed] came in ready to go, did his thing. As long as we get the win. …”
But they didn’t get the win. And personally, I’d like it more if Duren were fuming at himself that he was on the bench. He’s the starting center. He’s getting outplayed every night. He’s losing minutes. He’s losing confidence.
It’s nice that everybody keeps saying, “He’s only 22 years old” and that’s true. But so is Victor Wembanyama. Chronological age doesn’t mean the same thing in this league. Duren is only in his fourth NBA season. So are Paolo Banchero and Jalen Williams. If Duren is old enough to be vying for a five-year, $240 million max contract, he’s old enough to handle what’s facing him now.
So far it’s handling him.
Back to backs to the wall.
No more surprises left, on either side
“We’re not going to go down without a fight,’’ Bickerstaff said of the looming Game 6 on Friday night in Cleveland, where the Pistons are yet to win in this series. “We’re not going to go down without kicking, punching, grabbing, clawing, and that’s just who we are.
“We’ve been in this position before”
That’s true. And attention must be paid to the fact that Detroit was down 3-1 in its previous series, against the Orlando Magic, and won three straight. That muscle memory will serve the Pistons well.
But after five games of this series – or any NBA playoff series, really – the other team feels like relatives who have stayed past Christmas and are now approaching Valentine’s Day. You’re as tired of them as they are of you. You can smell them coming. You can finish their sentences.
The Cavaliers have figured out that if they double Cunningham, the Pistons are woefully short on options, especially if Tobias Harris is anything less than stellar. (He went 6-for-19 Wednesday and missed several key shots down the stretch.) They’ve also figured out that you can beat Detroit if you draw defenders by driving the paint then whip the ball around the perimeter enough to find open 3-point shooters – something Cleveland has done painfully well in its victories, particularly with the annoying Max Strus, who hit six baskets in Game 5, all of them treys. Six? They were killers.
“How do you prevent that?” someone asked Thompson, Detroit’s best defender.
“Not overact to certain peoples drives,” he said, as if reciting a playbook, “know where the shooters are, stay attached, and not let other people be X-factors for them.”
It sounds so easy. But as Tom Hanks said of baseball in “A League of Their Own,” it if were that easy, everyone would be doing it.
Here’s the bottom line. The Cavs did something in Game 5 they hadn’t done all postseason – win on the road – and now the Pistons have to do something they’ve done three times in this postseason: stave off elimination.
To do so, they will have to pull a big tarp over the glaring hole in their boat: That Cunningham does not have a Harden or a Mitchell or Mobley to boost him, and that his regular season wingman, Duren, is, so far, flying at a lower altitude.
They live on their defense? Then make sure it isn’t fooled into allowing open 3-point shooters. They want to own the possession game? Don’t throw the ball away on ill-advised passes or dribble protection.
And, as unfair as it is, if the job calls for perfection, and there’s no wiggle room, then, sorry to say this, Mr. Cunningham, you didn’t have much choice.
“They’re going to have to choke the life out of this team,” Bickerstaff warned. He was talking about the Cavs. But it’s the Pistons doing it to themselves that you worry about.
Back to backs to the wall.
Contact Mitch Albom: malbom@freepress.com. Check out the latest updates on his charities, books and events at MitchAlbom.com. Follow @mitchalbom on x.com.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Detroit Pistons' support for Cade Cunningham torched by Cavaliers