When Mike Conley first arrived in Minnesota in February, he was hailed as a player who could bring some much-needed organization and decision-making to the Timberwolves.
On a younger, more excitable (volatile?) team, Conley’s calming presence and classic point guard makeup figured to be important for a team searching for an identity and how all of its pieces fit. What became apparent quickly to the Timberwolves was that Conley was capable of being so much more than a game-manager quarterback. The 35-year-old could still really play.
It did not take long for coach Chris Finch to start asking Conley to do more and more than what some assumed his role would be. As Finch got acquainted with Conley and saw how he operated up close, the coach encouraged his point guard not to limit himself on offense. He also placed more responsibility on Conley’s shoulders on defense, a level of confidence that Conley enjoyed during his prime years in Memphis and his early days in Utah, days that even Conley started to think might be long gone.
“That kind of stuff is like alright, they need me,” Conley said after a recent training camp practice. “To win I have to do this. It just gave me a little bit more extra motivation to go out there and be myself, kind of get back to what I’m good at.”
In his final season in Utah, Conley was averaging 10.7 points, 2.5 rebounds and shooting 36.2 percent from 3-point range, numbers that were all down considerably from where he used to be as one of the league’s most reliable and productive point guards during his 16 seasons in the league. The only number that was up was his 7.7 assists, with the Jazz using the elder statesman as a facilitator first and foremost on a surprisingly competitive team.
When he got to Minnesota to replace D’Angelo Russell, Finch told him he can’t hesitate to shoot the ball. Yes, the Wolves needed someone to get Anthony Edwards, Rudy Gobert and, eventually, Karl-Anthony Towns enough shots. But Finch didn’t want a caretaker. He needed Conley to be a threat to score as well. Conley’s scoring average jumped to 14.0 points per game with the Wolves down the stretch, and he shot a blistering 42 percent on 3-pointers while playing in every game.
“We told him we just needed him to score more,” Finch said. “Taking some of that pressure off Anthony. Keep his guys honest defensively. They were just loading up in the gaps off of him. Then talked a lot about his existing chemistry with Rudy, and he was able to get a lot out of that.”
The 14.0 points per game were his most since his lone All-Star season in 2020-21. Gradually, Conley started to feel emboldened by being needed. He was encouraged to do more than just take the open jumper. Finch wanted him going to the rim when he saw an opening, commandeering the pick-and-rolls with Gobert and looking for his offense. Few players accept reduced roles as they age, but Conley was starting to map out the final years of his career as a catch-and-shoot guy who was out there just to keep the defense honest as they cheated toward Edwards. Getting to do more than that awakened something in Conley.
“I honestly thought we (were) kind of trending toward just corner spot-up shots and just being a spacer and guard guys around the court,” Conley said. “To have that kind of revamp me a bit going into summer workouts, I’m like, man, I’m working toward (a prominent role) like that. I’m not working toward only spot-ups.”
Even though he was playing on a team with more established star power in Minnesota than the one he left in Utah, Conley’s assists went down (7.7 to 5.0) and his shot attempts went up (8.7 to 9.8). Like he always does, he quickly endeared himself to his new teammates. A constant scene in the locker room after the game in the final 24 regular-season games and the five in the playoffs was to see Edwards seated right next to Conley picking his brain on what went right and what went wrong that night.
“It was good to have that confidence from Finch and the coaching staff,” Conley said. “They believed in me to be that kind of guy. It was good to see myself doing it again, that I was still the same guy that I was years ago, being able to do it.”
His familiarity with Gobert from their days together in Utah was of the utmost importance. Conley understands how impactful Gobert can be, even if some of the optics in his offensive performance are not always pretty. For Gobert, seeing someone who knew him and believed in him made a huge difference as he acclimated to his new environment after nine seasons in Utah. Conley knew exactly how to throw passes to Gobert to increase his odds of catching them, and he also knew how to play off of Gobert on defense to make it harder on their opponents.
“Early in the season it was kind of uncomfortable for everybody, for myself, too,” Gobert said. “And as we got to understand each other over the year, I really liked the way we were (playing) in the playoffs. … I really thought we were already a much better team, and I thought I was better off, too.”
As he watched Conley knock down big shots, organize the offense, chase his man through screens and grab the long rebounds that the Wolves never could seem to get their hands on earlier in the season, Wolves president of basketball operations Tim Connelly appreciated even more the player they brought in. They knew even before the trade that Conley was a better fit for this group than Russell, who shot the lights out in his final season in Minnesota before moving on to the Los Angeles Lakers. But Conley proved to be even more multifaceted than they expected.
“We kind of joke that I don’t think enough people talk about how good he is,” Connelly said. “You talk about him being the grizzled vet, the veteran leadership voice, but he’s still a heck of a player.”
So good that Connelly is already exploring ways to keep him beyond this season, the final year of his contract. The Timberwolves do not currently appear to have their point guard of the future on the roster. Jordan McLaughlin is a career backup. Then there are combo guards like Shake Milton and Nickeil Alexander-Walker who can handle some of the initiating. Edwards and Kyle Anderson can do it as well, but none of those options are considered long-term solutions to the position. Conley turns 36 next week, but his performance, leadership and intangibles make him very valuable in Minnesota. The Wolves do not want him to leave.
“When we got Mike, our goal was for this to be the last spot,” Connelly said. “You never know how things are going to develop. And certainly, we didn’t get Mike for just to be a short-term thing. When you get a person as special as Mike is, you want to be sure that he doesn’t leave here.”
This summer Conley and his wife, Mary, purchased a home in the Twin Cities suburbs. They have fully moved in, have their children in school here and have started to think about what it would be like to finish Mike’s career in Minnesota. He is so well thought of here that he already has a catchy nickname.
What Conley wants most at this stage of his career, of course, is a championship. Putting the words “title” and “Minnesota” in the same sentence hasn’t been a smart thing to do since the Lakers played here, but Conley believes the Wolves have the makings of a contender. He sees a budding superstar in Edwards, thinks a healthy Towns will do wonders for what was a subpar offense last season, is thankful that he has Jaden McDaniels to help him defend the perimeter and believes another year together will help bring out a better version of Gobert than the one Wolves fans saw last season.
Ask Finch, Connelly or any of the Wolves players and they will tell you Conley is just as important. Maybe he found the fountain of youth in one of Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes. Maybe playing with some All-Star caliber talent is what he needed to open things up for his own game. Or maybe the fact that the Timberwolves needed so much from him was just what Conley needed to hear to dust off some aspects of his game that were believed to be long gone.
Whatever the reason, the Timberwolves want Minnesota Mike to stick around for a while.
— This article originally appeared in The Athletic.
