MINNEAPOLIS — Typically, Anthony Edwards news conferences don’t go like this. He was giving short-ish answers. His facial expression barely changed. The Minnesota Timberwolves had just advanced to the Western Conference finals for the second straight season, and it was as if he’d entered the media room determined to display the professional mindset that gave his team the edge.
One question eventually earned an Edwards smile. The mention of beloved teammate Mike Conley Jr. did the job.
“Mike Conley, man,” Edwards said, shaking his head almost as if he were in awe.
The 37-year-old had a night. Game 5 against the Golden State Warriors would always require an extra dose of urgency and discipline, two qualities defining Conley’s 18-year career. So it came as no shock to see him step up as the premier stabilizer. Conley buried the 3-pointers the Wolves needed. He zipped passes into the pockets of the Warriors’ defense. Multiple times in transition, he effectively swiped the ball from dribblers without being whistled for fouls.
This was one of Conley’s patented performances — not a lot of flash, but an essential 16-point, eight-assist and six-rebound contribution in yet another key victory. Timberwolves coach Chris Finch called Conley “outstanding” in his postgame comments. Now here Edwards was, beaming, trying to come up with the right words for his reverence.
“The best vet you can ask for,” Edwards said. “Plays through everything. Never complains. Always knows the right thing to say. Always knows where to be. Just a great guy to look up to, for sure.”
The admiration works as both appreciation and fuel. On one hand, Edwards knows how important Conley’s role is on these types of nights. Conley sprinkles a certain level of headiness into an already potent concoction. On the other hand, Edwards realizes Conley only has so many cracks at this left. Conley’s presence provides a team-wide motivational purpose that goes beyond self.
Edwards wants this for the man who whispers advice in his ear during timeouts. He wants this for the guy who was limping off the podium after playoff games last year. He wants this for a dude who once scored 22 points mere days after fracturing his face.
Conley has been around for so long that it’s almost easy to forget the history. But 10 years ago, before the Warriors became the Warriors, Conley’s Memphis Grizzlies stood in their way. That town rallied around the grit of that team. Tony Allen, Zach Randolph and Marc Gasol were often perceived as the source of the strength, but mostly it was Conley, who absorbed an elbow to his cheekbones underneath his left eye in the team’s initial postseason round against the Portland Trail Blazers.
The collision called for surgery. Most of his coaches and teammates thought he’d miss the rest of the playoffs. Conley couldn’t bear to watch his team lose, so even as his parents suggested he not play, Conley wore a protective mask that made him look like a mixture of a character in “Spy Kids” and Two-Face from “Batman.”
Mike Conley wears a mask in Game 3 of the Memphis Grizzlies’ Western Conference semifinals series against the Golden State Warriors in 2015. (Justin Ford / USA Today Sports via Imagn Images)
Conley drilled jumpers from all over the court. The Grizzlies won and eventually led the series, but flamed out.
“You go back to that moment,” said former Grizzlies assistant Jeff Bzdelik, “and if he doesn’t get hurt, who knows. Who knows what might have happened for us, for them, for the NBA.”
Conley was young then, thinking he’d return to the same stage the following year. It didn’t happen. The Grizzlies lost in the first round in ’16 and ’17, failed to reach the playoffs in ’18 and ’19, and Conley was traded to the Utah Jazz in July 2019. His next best chance came in 2020 amid the bubble. The Jazz led 3-1 in a series against the Nuggets, but Denver’s two-man game between Nikola Jokić and Jamal Murray kept the team alive and forced a Game 7. Conley found himself with the ball in the final seconds. He hoisted a 3-pointer on the run. The ball pinballed between the rim and bounced out. Afterward, Conley said: “This hurts worse than any loss I’ve ever had.”
He wouldn’t have thought he’d be here five years later, much less playing at all, but the folks who know him best had zero doubt. Conley, many of them say, has too much to give. Too much wisdom to impart. Too much to pass on when it comes to what it takes to win.
Mind you, this is all Conley has really done. His AAU team, the Riverside Oddsbreakers, won multiple national championships. At one point, his high school team in Indianapolis, Lawrence North, secured 45 victories in a row. It helped that longtime teammate Greg Oden overpowered opponents in the post. Oden eventually won the state’s Mr. Basketball award. Why? Because Conley, who originally was a co-nominee for the award with Oden, called his high school coach, Jack Keefer, and told him he wanted Oden to get the shine. Similarly, Keefer often begged Conley to shoot more. Conley explained that he passed as frequently as he did because he believed his teammates would play harder on defense and remain more engaged offensively the more shots they took.
Thad Matta, who coached Conley and Oden at Ohio State, learned these tidbits throughout Conley’s recruitment. He has many of his own, including this one: Before the Buckeyes’ first practice in 2006, Matta met Conley at midcourt and handed him a ball.
“Michael,” Matta said, “run my team until I tell you to stop.”
Six months later, before the tip of the national championship game against Florida, Matta approached Conley again. Thousands of fans packed the Georgia Dome. Cameras focused on them from all angles. Matta could not sit still, and there Conley was, standing calmly, taking it all in.
“You remember what I told you before our very first day together?” Matta asked Conley.
“Yeah,” Conley said, “Run our team until you tell me to stop.”
“For God’s sake,” Matta replied. “Don’t stop tonight.”
Ohio State did not win that night, but his 20-point and six-assist showing helped make him the No. 4 pick in the following NBA Draft. The ride wasn’t seamless from there. In 2009, the Grizzlies toyed with trading him. Former Grizzlies coach Lionel Hollins challenged him frequently in the ensuing years, publicly and privately.
“As he was coming out of his cocoon, there was some bark back,” Hollins told The Athletic. “I’d say, ‘I want to run this here.’ And he’d say, ‘I got this play, I want to run this.’ He was gaining that confidence and knowledge to know what we needed at whatever time.”
Conley filed those moments away, and now he recalls them for others.
There is a reason the player who tossed his arm around Conley following Wednesday night’s win was Nickeil Alexander-Walker. Who better for the former first-round pick to lean on when it comes to constant improvement? There is a reason many of the Timberwolves’ assistants confer with Conley during timeouts. Who better to pick the brain of than the player who has spent the most time studying defensive schemes? There is a reason Finch has stuck with Conley during some difficult stretches this season. Who better to trust when the season is hanging in the balance?
Maybe the most revealing moment Wednesday evening happened near the end. The Warriors were making their final run, and Conley checked into the game with a couple of minutes left. The ball reached him early in the shot clock, and he idled.
Rarely in these fast-paced, frenetic back-and-forths do the seconds seem too slow, but here Conley was, mindfully allowing the time to tick off. His teammates watched him. Even Edwards, one of the budding faces of the NBA, a star who fears nobody, seemed to understand.
The perfect person for this team, at this time, had the ball in his hands.
(Photo of Mike Conley and Anthony Edwards: Ellen Schmidt / Getty Images)