SPURS - HOW TO BECOME A SPUR

"Well, between our management staff and our coaching staff, we do spend a lot of time together trying to figure out who we're bringing in before we do it. It's not just basketball. We want to know about, uh, what kind of sense of humor people might have, silly as that might sound to some. But I think humor's really important in any job. We want to find out an intelligence level, commitment level, if a player might understand a role or be willing to accept a role. And let him know ahead of time a lot of things about what's expected, so that if he's not going to buy it we don't have to waste time bringing him in and getting rid of him." 

"You can just tell. I don't do any kind of standup routine or anything like that. I don't do any of that. But you can tell. You can bring things up in somebody's life, or in your life, that have happened in the world, mostly. How aware is a person. It tells you if he can fit in with other people. I already know about Timmy and Manu and Tony. I want them to be able to enjoy whoever gets brought in that's going to support them." 

SPURS - SCOUTING AND PLAYER DEVELOPMENT

The Spurs have long been the NBA's gold standard when it comes to drafting and development, preferring to roll up their sleeves and scour the globe to find the right players to slot into well-defined roles in San Antonio.

They have more international players on their roster than any other team in the NBA, and even their American players don't come straight from America to the league.

It's the hard way to build a roster, requiring patience, discipline and investment that few teams are able to muster these days. And it's paying off in a big way for them in the NBA Finals.

There is Danny Green, who was cut three times and spent a summer in Slovenia, drilling every 3-pointer in sight and running away with the finals MVP award.

There is Gary Neal, who was undrafted out of Towson University and spent three years kicking around Turkey, Spain and Italy before being discovered by the Spurs, scoring 24 points in a Game 3 victory that put them back in control.

There is Boris Diaw, the once-promising Frenchman who was on his way out of the league before the Spurs brought him in, playing surprisingly stingy defense on LeBron James and finding Manu Ginobili cutting to the basket for easy buckets in a Game 5 win that moved the Spurs one victory away from the franchise's fifth title.

How do they find these guys?

General manager RC Buford has assembled an unparalleled scouting staff and worked with Gregg Popovich to establish a system and culture over the last 15-plus seasons that allows them to identify the exact attributes that will allow a player to succeed in San Antonio.

''Our management staff, RC does a great job with his scouts showing us who is out there, who is available,'' Popovich said earlier this season. ''And we all sit down and decide who we want to bring in. Once we bring them in, we do take a lot of time trying to develop them.''

It takes communication. It takes trust. It takes commitment to do what the Spurs do. It also takes a willingness to think outside the normal parameters of team building, to consider players that don't fit the prototypical mold.

''When you look at a basketball player and you're trying to evaluate someone, in my opinion you've got to look past the typical biases and preconceived notions on what an NBA player is and should look like or should be; what their pedigree or path should be and really get down to the guy's talent and character and work ethic,'' said forward Matt Bonner, who played in Italy and was acquired in a trade from Toronto. ''Is this person going to make our team better and can he play? I think when you do that you can get a more accurate portrayal of a player and what their value potentially could be.''

The commitment to drafting and developing came early for Buford and Popovich. Situated in small-market San Antonio, they knew they couldn't afford to throw millions at the free agent market every summer to fill holes in their roster. They certainly got lucky getting the No. 1 pick in 1997 when Tim Duncan was available, but their moves to surround him with a championship-caliber supporting cast all came the hard way.

Game 6 is Tuesday night in Miami, where Duncan will have a chance to win his fifth title 14 years after his first. Along the way he has gone from the focal point to a supporting role, all thanks to the system the Spurs have in place.

''I think development is a big part of that,'' Buford said. ''The better prepared you can be to fill in the holes behind that success of an aging group, the smoother the transition might be.''

Tony Parker was the 28th pick out of France in 2001. And despite being well known and coveted thanks to his stellar international play for Argentina, Ginobili fell to the second round in 1999 and didn't come to the NBA for another three seasons.

''Ginobili that was a pick that a lot of people knew was going to be good,'' Timberwolves president of basketball operations Flip Saunders said. ''It's just at the time a lot of people didn't want to wait for him.''

The Spurs were willing to wait, and it's paid off handsomely with the left-hander helping them win three titles and then registering 24 points and 10 assists in their Game 5 victory over Miami. He has also helped other foreign players like Tiago Splitter and Nando De Colo make the transition to the United States.

''The first years I started to feel like a guide to the new guys, it felt great, because I needed that at the beginning,'' Ginobili said. ''Being sort of an icon or staple player on this team feels really good. I'm very lucky. And at the same time, it's great to have so many international players that went through some of the things you went through.''

Assistant coach Chad Forcier also deserves plenty of credit. He worked hard with Green to smooth out his jumper and has spent countless hours with many of the projects the Spurs have taken on over the years. The long and winding road that many of these players have taken to get here comes through in the hunger they show on the court.

''Just dealing with the reality that I wasn't going to get drafted, that's like a crossroad for a lot of guys coming out of college,'' Neal said. ''You realize you're not going to get drafted and there's a great chance that you might not become an NBA player. You kind of have to make your mind up that you want to continue on professionally and take the European route and take it seriously.''

When they arrive in San Antonio, they see a lot of other players just like them. A bond is formed and a support system is fostered.

''I think there's a lot of guys with the Spurs who didn't have the easy way, one-and-done in college and then bam, you have a career,'' Bonner said. ''A lot of guys on our team have had to go through the journey of maybe all four years of college, maybe the D-league, maybe overseas. I think that builds character and it makes you appreciate playing in the NBA and playing for an organization like the Spurs that much more.''

SPURS - MADE NOT IN AMERICA

AT&T Center, San Antonio, 2013

"Stone cold" is a distinctly American term. So you could forgive Tiago Splitter's question. The San Antonio Spurs are in a scouting meeting, moments before tip-off against the Oklahoma City Thunder. Assistant coach Brett Brown is explaining a defensive alignment -- a "red," where two Spurs defenders switch off a pick. To emphasize his point, Brown declares it a stone-cold certainty the Spurs will face that situation in tonight's game.

Nine of the Spurs' 15 players this year were raised and trained outside of the United States -- an NBA record. Cultural and linguistic confusion happens often on this team. Enter Splitter, a 6'11", 28-year-old center from Brazil by way of Spain, who this season was the latest to consummate the transition from overseas superstar to selfless Spur. Splitter raises his hand, narrows his brow sharp as a rooftop and says, "What is stone cold?"

The team laughs. Head coach Gregg Popovich laughs. Splitter laughs too -- but he still needs an answer. So Brown explains what he meant. Then Splitter turns to Patty Mills, a guard from Australia, and whispers, "Stone cold isn't in Rosetta Stone."

Cologne, West Germany, 1988

As coaches go, Popovich is a pretty worldly guy. He majored in Soviet studies at the Air Force Academy. He speaks Russian and Serbian. He played on military basketball teams during his stint in the armed forces, traveling Eastern Europe in the '70s. Even then, he knew that the foreign guys were a mostly untapped wealth of talent. So in the late '80s, as an assistant coach with the Spurs, Pop traveled to see the European championships in Cologne. The only other NBA coach there was Don Nelson. Pop knew the stigmas against foreign players: They wouldn't play defense, they wouldn't socialize, they wouldn't learn English, they weren't strong dribblers, they couldn't handle a reduced role, they were soft. "I thought that was really ignorant," Pop says now. "I couldn't believe that it was a pool that wasn't being used."

Decades later, with Pop's mentality and some luck, the core of the Spurs -- Tim Duncan, Tony Parker and Manu Ginobili, international players all -- have helped produce the most consistent winner in the four major sports over the past 15 years, victorious 70.3 percent of the time during that stretch. They've reached the NBA Finals five times and, as of June 10, were three wins away from a fifth championship. And through it all, as Pop's international strategy has become the strategy in the NBA -- seven GMs and five head coaches this past season grew from the Spurs' tree -- it's always been framed in Moneyball terms: Go somewhere other teams aren't, find talent nobody else finds. But to spend time inside the Spurs organization today is to uncover another interpretation of the Spurs dynasty: that as America's youth basketball pipeline has produced a type of player that Pop has no interest in coaching, he has found an advantage not only in targeting international players but in avoiding domestic ones.

South Jamaica, N.Y., 2013

The anti-Spurs are playing in a stuffy gym in Queens. New Jersey's Playaz Basketball Club and the New York City Jayhawks -- two AAU teams, the former among the nation's premiere squads and the latter a relative upstart -- are facing off in the IS8 Tournament. It's a small showcase, during the down months when college coaches aren't allowed to attend games, so missing is the usual swirling circus of middlemen and power brokers and recruiters and other fishy sycophants who are as ubiquitous at tournaments as the Swoosh. The larger summer events are, as one college coach says, "sick. You see coaches, street agents, pedophiles, guys who want to hang around the players because of money or ego."

Youth basketball's beauties and alarms, depending how you look at it, are evident from the opening tip. On an early possession, one of the Jayhawks spins, dribbles, loses and regains balance -- holding the ball for what seems like an eternity -- before drawing contact and hitting a layup. "And one!" he yells. A few possessions later, one of the Playaz dribbles up the floor, barreling through every Jayhawk like a fullback as his teammates stand alone, and throws up a wild layup, nowhere close.

1 Spurs Lane, San Antonio, 2013

Near a mural in his office, Spurs general manager R.C. Buford has just finished reading an article. The mural is an action shot of a Spurs game, but it's really of an era and a mentality frozen in time. Parker's arms are extended, following through after a pass to Ginobili, who's shooting a layup. Duncan is under the glass, not leaping to dunk a potential Ginobili miss but boxing out. Three future Hall of Famers, including one whom many fans -- and not just in San Antonio -- consider the premier player of his era, all playing hero-agnostic basketball.

The article that Buford has finished, printed from ESPN.com, sits on his desk. Its headline: "The Entitlement Culture of Elite HS Hoops." In it, recruiting analyst Dave Telep writes about not only witnessing AAU players complain about the food at a Ritz in California during a tournament but also what he calls the slow and steady crumble of American grassroots basketball: loafing, lousy fundamentals, a pervasive disinterest from players in showcasing anything but themselves.

Buford had lived much of what he read. With two sons who recently played college basketball and rose through the AAU scene, Buford has had a floor seat to the yawning divide in how the game is taught in America and overseas. In AAU, anyone who pays a $16 fee and finishes a background check and an online clinic can coach. In the FIBA club system in Europe, although requirements vary from country to country, coaches must earn various licenses, which often require them to complete intensive training, covering everything from X's and O's to nutrition. The U.S. has the NCAA serving as a conflicted arbiter of both the players' time and money; there is no pretense of amateurism overseas, and for better or worse, practices often last hours longer than our regulated college ones. The Spurs, of course, are not in the business of worrying about the demands on a student-athlete's time and saw it as a plus that guys like Ginobili and Parker had been playing club basketball since they were teenagers, schooled by accredited coaches, the 10,000-hour rule brought to the hardwood. Consider Pop's brutal assessment that foreign players are "fundamentally harder working than most American kids," and it's no wonder the Spurs want to avoid the fate of so many NBA teams, which are, as Buford says, "the end of the road for the developmental habits that are built in the less-structured environment in the U.S."

The way the Spurs see it, though, the biggest divide isn't structural but cultural. Something has happened to basketball in the country that invented it, as well-documented as it as irrevocable, driven by money and fame and a generation of players who've learned from watching sharks succeed by imposing their will upon the game rather than by allowing it to come to them. It used to be that a team needed a transcendent talent to execute a star system; now, it needs a transcendent talent -- LeBron James or Duncan -- to show that it's permissible to be unselfish. Consider that the U.S. has won only two of the major world junior championships in the past 26 years -- not even in 2007, with Stephen Curry and Michael Beasley on the roster -- and the root rot of the U.S. system is all the more clear. "That's a statement about where we are," Buford says. "When we put our best players together, we aren't playing well."

Most of the foreign players not only have more experience playing basketball but more experience playing an unselfish style, with lots of passing and motion and screens, as messy as it is pure. As Spurs director of basketball operations Sean Marks, a New Zealander who played for San Antonio for two seasons, puts it, "The ball doesn't stick." For better or worse, the ball often sticks in America. A few months ago, Pop was scouting an opponent. He won't say which one. On video, Pop saw an international player wide open for a shot, with a confused look on his face. That's because his point guard, an American, was dribbling in circles. "It has to be a really different experience for him," Pop says, laughing. " 'Where am I? Is this is a different game? Is it a different sport?' "

Of course, Pop's coaching style, as prescient as it is curmudgeonly, isn't for everyone. He's demanding and ruthless; his playbook is pick-and-roll heavy, more structured and complicated than European ball but a blood relative. The traits he scouts for -- players with "character," who've "gotten over themselves, who understand team play, who can cheer for a teammate," who "don't make excuses" -- hold true regardless of nationality. The NBA draft, more than the draft in any other sport, is based on potential. With only two rounds, GMs can't miss, and when Pop looks at American talent he sees many players who "have been coddled since eighth, ninth, 10th grade by various factions or groups of people. But the foreign kids don't live with that. So they don't feel entitled," he says, noting how many clubs work on fundamentals in two-a-day practices, each lasting up to three hours. "Now, you can't paint it with too wide of a brush, but in general, that's a fact."

And so it's no surprise that Pop would rather teach unentitled foreign players to be selfless than try to teach entitled domestic players to suppress their egos. The international kids, he says, "have less. They appreciate things more. And they're very coachable." Of course, it's much easier when his best player, Duncan, who was raised in the Virgin Islands and learned the game by playing point guard in pickup games on a rugged outdoor court, is best known for putting team first; when Parker, raised in France, is okay trading stats for wins; when Ginobili, raised in Argentina, is fine coming off the bench. And the Spurs have whiffed on imports (Luis Scola) and scored with Americans (Kawhi Leonard). Still, there's a different vibe in the Spurs facility, as if deplaning in a foreign airport. Argentine reporters stand next to American ones. In practice, Ginobili calls for a screen by saying, "Tienes que poner el bloqueo aca!" The diversity -- San Antonio's roster has players from seven countries and territories -- is a binding force. When Pop talks about his players, a coach who's best known for frowning one-word answers turns not only expansive and animated, waving his arms and laughing, but proud. As he sits on a bench near the team's practice courts, watching Duncan shoot free throws on his day off, he smiles as he sees one of his foreign-born players and foreign-born front office guys hug in the hallway. "It's a family here," Pop says. "It's just geometric, and it creates a mixed culture that we've all enjoyed tremendously."

Of course, Pop enjoys it most because they win. None of the Spurs rank high in points per game, the quintessential American stat. But not only were three Spurs among the top 12 players in Win Shares per 48 minutes for the 2012-13 season, they also join with Marc Gasol, the Memphis Grizzlies center from Spain, as the only non-Americans on the list. Parker, at .206, ranked fifth. Duncan's .191 was 12th. Ginobili, with a lifetime average of .211, would have easily qualified if he had been healthy. And ranking eighth was Splitter, the former international superstar who has had to train both his game and mind to relish the thankless tasks Pop demands of him.

Vitoria-Gasteiz, Spain, 2000

How many NBA players have a LinkedIn profile? Splitter does. His profession: "Basketball Player at San Antonio Spurs (2010-present)". From 2000 to 2010, the Brazilian native's profile reads, he was a "jugador" at Baskonia, a Spanish club; he signed on at age 15, and there he won 24 awards, championships or gold medals in overseas tournaments, including Spanish League MVP and finals MVP. He was, as Ginobili says, "one of the best centers in the world." And should he ever need proof of that (or require emotional support after being posterized by LeBron James), four LinkedIn members have "endorsed" his "skills and expertise."

Splitter was practically born into basketball. His father, Cassio, played in college, and his sister, Michelle, was a dominating 6'6" player until she died of leukemia in 2009. Splitter first played when he was 7, and within a decade -- as a nimble center as fluent in pick-and-rolls as he is in Portuguese, Spanish, German and English -- American coaches recruited him to attend high school in the States. He was intrigued, until the coaches told him that his parents would have to pay for everything. So he stayed in Europe, and at 15 signed a 10-year contract to play with Baskonia. Buford first scouted him a year later, and two seasons after that, considered 18-year-old Splitter "the best player in the junior world tournament."

Splitter's experience in the club system was not different from most, but it was still more structured and demanding than the traditional American hoops upbringing. He would attend school all day, and in the evening rotated between practice -- sometimes three hours of nothing but fundamentals -- and video, studying Shaq, Kevin Garnett and, most of all, Duncan, his idol, the reason he wore No. 21. Splitter's coach, Dusko Ivanovic, was sort of a Spanish Popovich, minus the charm and the legacy. "He was tough," Splitter says. "Everything was about work and sacrifice and about the team. No excuses. So I grew up fast."

The Spurs drafted Splitter in 2007, but due to contractual buyout issues -- a peril of relying on international players -- Splitter didn't join the team. Three years later, though, Splitter opted out of his contract and arrived in San Antonio at age 25 with the most local hype of any big man since Duncan. Splitter was amazed at how much Americans could do in drive-thrus (go to the bank, get coffee, eat). It was far from the only thing he would have to learn. He soon discovered that for as much as the Spurs' scheme seems European, with its emphasis on pick-and-rolls rather than isolation plays, they're still the Spurs, and it's still the NBA. With a new playbook, new country, new court dimensions and a new role, Splitter "had to learn to play again, basically," Duncan says.

If a benefit of drafting foreign players is that they arrive with more experience than one-and-done kids, a risk is that they're also too set in their ways. Splitter's shot -- a jerky thing capped with an odd finger flick in his follow-through -- had to be retooled by Spurs shooting coach Chip Engelland, renowned for his quiet magic. Limited by injuries and expectations and adjustments, Splitter started only eight games his first two years. Just as every AAU player isn't selfish, every foreign player isn't egoless, and Splitter now says that midway through his first year he was angry that he wasn't seeing more minutes. At one point, Pop told him: "Tiago, I know you're having a hard time. But your time will come. Just keep working. Keep coming to the gym willing to practice." Most of the Spurs' imports have heard a version of that conversation. Parker heard it. Ginobili heard it. The only one who hasn't is Duncan, the unspoken focal point. It's a conversation that Pop doesn't like to have twice, the moment when the characteristics that he scouts for either prove true or don't. And if they don't, the Spurs will ruthlessly cut their losses and move on, as they did with Hedo Turkoglu, George Hill and Stephen Jackson. Splitter, though, worked after practice on his shooting, worked during the lockout with Duncan, and his free throw percentage rose from 54.3 percent as a rookie to 73 percent this season, when he led the team in games played with 81. His job is to execute the invisible stuff: set screens, bang under the boards, find the open man, alter shots. And with seconds left in regulation of Game 3 in the Western Conference finals against the Grizzlies, score tied, Splitter forced guard Mike Conley to put up a shot so high and wild off the glass that it didn't touch the rim. That didn't show up on the stat sheet, but it helped the Spurs to win in overtime.

"He realizes that I might call his number zero times, and he's okay with that," Pop says. "He can do it because of the character he has, because of the way he grew up, because his method of operation is to be a coachable, hard-working individual who wants to help his team win. That's how he's built. That's why we love him."

And that's why the Spurs consider Splitter so flexible as to be invaluable. A restricted free agent this summer whom Buford expects to "go forward with for a long time," he averaged 10.3 points this season by exploiting scraps and leftovers, a "subterfuge type of offense," as Pop says. Break down Hoopdata's shot locations tracker by the two smartest types of looks -- close range and threes -- and you find that Splitter was the fifth-most-efficient regular center in the league, at 73.1 percent of his attempts, ahead of Dwight Howard, Chris Bosh and Kevin Garnett. It's a very Spurs stat. "I'm not going to win games shooting outside," Splitter says.

Sometimes, though, he seems to pine to break out of his role. After practice, Splitter and the guards often compete to see who can drain more threes. In the first round against the Lakers, Pop subbed Matt Bonner for Splitter, who needed a breather after his smothering defense had erased Howard. Bonner is the rare big man capable of draining shots from beyond the arc. After Bonner hit one, Pop walked down the bench and hunched over Splitter. "Don't shoot threes," Pop said. Splitter looked confused. Then Pop smiled.

South Jamaica, N.Y., 2013

Back in Queens, as the Jayhawks break out to a 23-10 lead, the basketball alternates between beautiful and sloppy. One college coach estimates that a handful of players on the court could end up playing for Division I schools. Not surprising, considering that few AAU circuits produce so many stars. Kobe was once a Playa, and Spurs forward Danny Green, who has proved to be both the norm and the exception to Pop's scouting rule, played for a rival New York AAU team.

As a free agent in 2010, Green was signed by the Spurs and released a week later after showing little desire to conform to their team-first style. But shortly after he was cut, Green left Popovich a voice mail begging for another chance, offering to execute any role, no matter how small. Pop re-signed Green in March of that season, and now he's not only "grown within the system," as Green recently told ESPN.com, but often featured: He hit six of nine shots in San Antonio's Game 1 victory over the Grizzlies in the Western Conference finals.

Still, playing on the same courts as NBA legends can produce the burden of unrealistic expectations. One of the biggest headaches for college coaches is that many players have been told since a young age that they possess NBA talent. "Every player expects to be in the league," says one college coach. "And worse, every kid's parent expects them to be in the NBA." Only marquee names -- Coack K, Bill Self -- have the juice and the job stability to convince McDonald's All Americans of the glory in passing and defense. Most coaches are forced by their lack of security, and the one-and-done rule, to compromise their playbooks, if not their ethics, to land top talent. And some of those players aren't raised to handle criticism, which is as amplified on the biggest stage as it is unalterable. "My belief," Pop says, "is that people am who they am."

Ultimately, the Playaz rally. As New Jersey draws closer, the Jayhawks, with no shot clock, turn to a four-corners offense. (Hey, it's passing.) Each time a Playa is at the free throw line, the Jayhawks coach shouts "Touch the shooter!" the instant he releases -- adding classlessness onto slop. But the Playaz's comeback falls short, 72-66. After the game, the guys shake hands, then they're off to their next tournament. It's only one game, only two teams, with players that, who knows, might reach the NBA someday. Just not San Antonio.

Oracle Arena, Oakland, Calif.

Game 6, Western Conference semifinals, Spurs vs. Warriors, 2013

Splitter looks tired. He jogs down the floor after playing defense and stops at the top of the free throw line. It's the fourth quarter. His hands are on his knees; he will play more minutes in this game than any other of the series. Spurs guard Cory Joseph, from the right side of the three-point line, passes to Ginobili. Splitter sets an off-ball screen for Joseph. Then Splitter rolls off that screen to set another, for Ginobili, who dribbles right, stops and cuts left. Splitter pivots and sets him another pick, his body absorbing blows at every turn, jerking back and forth as if standing on a turbulent plane. Ginobili then passes to Boris Diaw, a French big man. Splitter drifts toward the basket, ready to rebound. But Diaw, like a shortstop, catches and fires to Splitter in one fluid motion.

Splitter finishes with a righthanded layup, and on the way up the court, he raises his arm to Diaw, a toast from one foreigner to another, and returns to his thankless banging.

SPURS - EVOLUTION OF KAWHI LEONARD

It was buried near the bottom of a summertime question-and-answer session with Spurs fans after his rookie season, but like most things that come out of Gregg Popovich's mouth, Kawhi Leonard heard every word.

Popovich didn't just praise the rangy forward on his rookie season, he said he thought he'd be the "face of the Spurs" one day.

Popovich is actually way more complimentary of his players than his gruff sideline interviews might suggest, but this was a whopper.

Face of the Spurs?

No matter where that quote was published, it was getting back to Leonard.

"Yeah, I heard it," Leonard said after harassing LeBron James on the defensive end and scoring 14 points of his own on 6-for-10 shooting in the Spurs blowout 113-77 victory over Miami in Game 3 of the NBA Finals Tuesday night.

"But it doesn't mean anything to me right now. I'm a role player and we're competing for a championship this year. Whatever unfolds in the years to come is what happens."

By now, Leonard is used to saying he's a role player. It's what Spurs do. Their roles are set, they do not question them, they accept them gladly.

Tim Duncan, Tony Parker and Manu Ginobili are the stars of this franchise. The Spurs universe revolves around the three players who have carried them to sustained excellence for more than a decade.

But one thing is becoming pretty clear during these Finals: Leonard isn't going to be cast into a role like this for much longer. He's a big part of their present, but he's an even bigger part of their future.

And you know what? He wants it.

"That's why I play the game. I want to be great one day," Leonard said. "I work so hard just to get better. Hopefully the cards unfold right so I can be the face ...

He stops a moment before finishing the thought, remembering his place and how good Spurs talk and finishes with a much more selfless thought, which he actually means just as earnestly, "No, I don't even think about it like that [being the face of the Spurs]. Just being better as a player myself."

When they go well, that's how these stories all go.

An organization makes a bet on a player with a high ceiling like Leonard, he turns out to have the work ethic, attitude and ability to live up to it and eventually he busts out on a stage like this and the future becomes now.

"Some guys are affected by the lights and some guys aren't," Popovich said of Leonard. "We haven't done anything to make him the way he is; he already is like that. He's quiet, he's humble, he wants to be a great player and he works before and after practice every day.

"So what you're seeing out there [in the Finals] is just a part of his personality. He just comes to play."

During these Finals he's been making James' life difficult. Yes, it's the Spurs' team defense that's forced James to pass far more than he should be. But it's Leonard who has been doing the heavy lifting.

"Honestly, I don't think I'm doing that good of a job on him," Leonard said. "He's still making baskets in a row when he's being aggressive. When I'm in the game, I'm just trying to contest all his shots, not give him anything easy because he's going to make shots.

"I just buy into my team. Whatever the coaches tell me the player does, I trust them and play the game."

A very Spursian answer.

So, too, has been his play.

But it's not just at the defensive end where he's contributed in these Finals. After his 14 points, 12 rebounds and four steals in Tuesday's win, Leonard is averaging 11 points, 12 rebounds and two steals during these Finals.

Those aren't role player statistics.

"I am," Leonard said when asked if he still saw himself as a role player. "I'm not getting no plays called for me out on the floor. I'm not getting no isos. So I'm a role player. I'm playing off of Tim, Tony and Manu, the players [that] get isos.

"I'm just going out there playing."

True. The Spurs still belong to Duncan, Parker and Ginobili. But here's guessing Leonard's time isn't too far off.

SPURS - TOM THIBODEAU

"The Spurs are the Spurs," Thibodeau said. "In many ways, they're the gold standard of the league. They've done it year after year for a long time. They have a lot of weapons. But we'll worry about that when we get there."

While discussing San Antonio before Wednesday night's game, it became even clearer just how much Thibodeau respects San Antonio head coach Gregg Popovich and his team.

"Ever since Pop's been here, he's built a championship caliber team and organization from top to bottom," Thibodeau said. "In everything they do. To me, when you measure greatness, it's having the ability to do it year after year and he's shown that. So I have a lot of respect for what he's done."

On the other side of the arena, Popovich echoed similar sentiments toward Thibodeau and his team minutes later. He praised the job that Thibodeau has done in his second season and acknowledged that even he wasn't sure why it took the career assistant coach so long to land his first head job.

"I'm not the answer man," Popovich said. "I don't know. Most of what we all do, even in your business, it doesn't matter what; a lot what happens has to do with circumstances more than how well you did. Or how highly your regarded or not. If anybody looks at their career, no matter what field of endeavor, circumstances have a lot to do with everything that's happened to each one of us. Sometimes holding us back, sometimes moving us forward. And each person has his own path. What's good is that Tom got his chance. With a good organization and a good group of guys. And he and his staff have been magnificent."

For his part, Thibodeau is just hoping to create the same kind of long-term success in Chicago that Popovich has built up over his time in Texas. He likes the style the Spurs have created over time and he appreciates that Popovich has done things his own way.

"It's the way they're built," Thibodeau said. "They have everything covered. They hard playing [guys], smart, tough, they can shoot. They fit. They're team oriented. They sacrifice for each other They play for each other. They've had injuries; when one guy goes down, the next guy steps up. Pop has provided great leadership here for a long time."

SPURS - AMERICANS vs INTERNATIONAL PLAYERS

I always figured the Spurs’ large contingent of international players – Tim Duncan (U.S. Islands), Tony Parker (France), Manu Ginobili (Argentina), Tiago Splitter (Brazil), Boris Diaw (France), Cory Joseph (Canada), Nando De Colo (France), Patty Mills (Australia) and Aron Baynes (Australia) – was the product of three main reasons.

1. Scouting. San Antonio does an excellent job of scouting overseas, which gives the Spurs an edge when it comes to drafting international players who stick in the NBA.

2. Chance. Tony Parker was the best player available when the Spurs’ pick came up in the 2001 draft, but if he had gone one spot earlier, they might have drafted Jamaal Tinsley or Gilbert Arenas instead. Similar situations came into play when San Antonio acquired its other international players.

There’s actually a more-calculated reason. The Spurs prefer international players to American ones. Seth Wickersham of ESPN:

Consider Pop’s brutal assessment that foreign players are “fundamentally harder working than most American kids,” and it’s no wonder the Spurs want to avoid the fate of so many NBA teams

A few months ago, Pop was scouting an opponent. He won’t say which one. On video, Pop saw an international player wide open for a shot, with a confused look on his face. That’s because his point guard, an American, was dribbling in circles. “It has to be a really different experience for him,” Pop says, laughing. “ ’Where am I? Is this is a different game? Is it a different sport?’ ”

Criticism of AAU basketball, which Spurs general manager R.C. Buford engages in, is often heavy-handed and exaggerated. I’ve seen firsthand plenty of America’s top young players sacrifice their individual games to play within a team concept.

But it’s hard to question the culture the Spurs have created, and to their credit, they’ve drafted Kawhi Leonard and given Danny Green multiple chances. There’s a happy medium somewhere, and San Antonio has probably found it.