Sometimes, when John Konchar is on the court, he gets the sense that an opponent is not familiar with his game. No credible scouting report would describe him as a poor defender, but this does not stop ballhandlers from targeting him. “People will go at me, like, not knowing really who I am,” Konchar said.
He said this in the stands at Barclays Center, after the Memphis Grizzlies’ morning shootaround. When center Steven Adams walked off the court, the only player still around, doing an interview, was the unassuming guy who has fewer Twitter followers than the mascot.
“Hey John, come on, mate,” Adams shouted. “The bus is not gonna f—in’ wait for you!”
Unlike Adams (aka Aquaman) and Jaren Jackson Jr. (aka “The Block Panther”), Konchar is rarely likened to a superhero. He is not a gravity-defying franchise player on a redemption arc, nor is he a villain out to instigate and irritate. But he is a character, which is why, in the locker room before a game, Grizzlies guard Tyus Jones was at a loss for words.
Jones started to repeat my question to teammate Brandon Clarke: “If you’ve never seen John play before … ”
“He’s a water boy!” Clarke interrupted, laughing. “That’s what I thought. Then, all of a sudden, he takes off and dunks on somebody. Then he says, ‘Great pass!'”
“If you saw him just walking down [the street] — I mean, even walking into the game, you wouldn’t assume he’s an NBA player,” Jones said.
The NBA is a traveling circus, driven not just by superstars doing superhuman things, but by larger-than-life personalities, egos and contracts. The vibe Konchar gives off is I’m here too lol.
Part of it is that he “wears Crocs 24/7, stuff like that,” Jones said. “Even just his demeanor on the court — he doesn’t show emotion a lot. He has the most random jersey number: 46. All these different things, you’re just like scratching your head. And he’ll go get a tip dunk or he’ll hit five 3s in a game, and then you’re just sitting there, like, ‘Oh, this dude can hoop.'”
Konchar looks, according to people on…
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