On the occasion of the publication of Gonzalo Vázquez’s new book, ‘Journey to the center of the NBA’ (Ediciones JC) we asked the author for an excerpt from one of the chapters in which Marc Gasol was present. This text was published in the special magazine dedicated to Marc and now you can read it here:
At the end of the month I met Marc Gasol again, who I noticed was more friendly and approachable than the last time. Things were going well for him. He could tell when he saw him. Marc was what you would call a calm guy, whose surroundings seemed to bother him more than his brother. Not so the defeat. Marc belonged to that real species of players whose face, and even character, changed between the minutes before a game and a subsequent defeat. Beneath his apparent bear-like calm beat the heart of a competitor. That season, his third in the NBA, he had established a strong bond between teammates and the organization, I would say more credible and long-term than the one his brother had known for nearly seven years. “I am very comfortable here and even more so now that we are winning.” And if by chance you asked him why he didn’t look at the basket more, he would give you an answer that made you blush for asking it, as if he were reminding you why basketball is structured around teams, or what this is really about. And it’s okay for someone to say it.
—Look, when you win, no one is going to tell you that you are down to seven points. For me the first and most important thing is always to win. What’s the point of scoring twenty-something if we then lose. They are not the points. It is what I contribute so that the team wins —she explained it with the force of principles—. And on this team there are a series of shots to the basket that must be distributed. I have what I have left and I have no problem with it. On the contrary, I think it’s what I should do.
And it was easy to see it when you saw him play. Between one for all and all for one, Marc fiercely attacked the first slogan. And there was no way to get him out of there, it wasn’t bad for him and neither were his people.
Marc was a rocky sponge, a mass that was both ductile and hard. And at my request, he then spread himself into two companions, whom he himself chose. The first was OJ Mayo, a counterpoint to the image that punished him so much. I to Mayo, the truth is, whenever I saw him within four walls, he was silent and absent, as if introspective. But then there were things that made it impossible to skip. Fed up with his delays, Hollins took his ownership from him in November and later ended up punching Tony Allen during a flight over a card debt, thus aggravating his reputation as a problem gambler. Marc denied it, I guess like a friend should. «He is the complete opposite, a very normal and even endearing guy. I’ve been with him for three years and I know him well. He is always wanting to know and learn new things. He asks me a lot about Spain. Here he is not problematic at all. » The next day, Mayo was suspended for steroid use, and it was no use claiming an energy drink he bought at a gas station. Accidental or not, I have always believed that that was the beginning of a long twilight that never ended and in which, in reality, his brief career could fit. The second was Mike Conley, perhaps the closest link with Marc, who dared to joke. “A player like me always needs to get along with the point guards if you want to touch the ball.” And his brother and Navarro already warned him that there was an angel in that locker room and his name was Mike Conley. «It didn’t take me long to check it out. I get along well with everyone, okay, but with Mike he is a different story, he is the most special companion. » I imagine that this is how the foundations started, that Marc and Mike, together and inseparable, were going to star in the most golden years in the history of the team. They would do so as emblems of an unforgettable stage that began that same spring, happily taking down the powerful Spurs and forcing the Thunder to play seven games in the Western semifinals. Marc was a rock sponge, and the peak that he was on his way to reaching on that team was going to surpass all imaginable predictions, until it was identified with the Grizzlies logo itself.
