The Champions Stopped Taking the Shot They Take More Than Anybody

By Sunday afternoon Atlanta had already decided what this was going to mean. That is the reflex here: the city builds the monument before the dust settles.

The game: Golden State Valkyries 68, Atlanta Dream 63, Saturday night at Chase Center, Golden State at home and Atlanta on the road, in front of an announced 18,064. The Valkyries take the series 4-3 and the first championship in the franchise's history, in its second season. Gabby Williams scored 30 and was named Finals MVP.

Two frames have settled since. The national one rests on Angel Reese, who said afterward, per ESPN's Michael Voepel: "But we're forever grateful, and like I said, we'll be back." The local one belongs to Gavin Godfrey in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, under the headline "The Dream lost, but here's why Atlanta won" — a column reading the run as a celebration of the city's culture and its people, chants and sold-out arenas included.

Godfrey is right, and right about the harder part: the instinct to file this under Atlanta coming up short again is lazy, and he refuses it. Where I go further is not about whether the run mattered. It is that both frames measure the series by what it meant, and what decided it was a count.

### The count

Tilt printed Atlanta's 6-for-30 from three twice on Sunday, under my byline and Dex's. Settled ground. The column beside it is the one worth reading: Golden State attempted 20.

Ten fewer, and not because Golden State are careful with the shot. They led the WNBA in three-point attempts this season, 1,335 at 30.3 a game, and in makes, 459. Atlanta finished fifth, 1,211 and 27.5 a game. The 20 was Golden State's series low, 10.3 below their own rate. The league's most committed three-point team put the shot away on the night it was worth the most, and won.

Atlanta's 30 was 2.5 above their season rate and 4.1 above their rate for this series. Elevated, not aberrant. They had attempted the identical 30 two days earlier at State Farm Arena, made 13 of them, and won, Atlanta 80, Golden State 69.

Across seven games the two clubs took almost the same number. Atlanta, game by game: 4 of 25, 7 of 25, 9 of 22, 4 of 23, 6 of 26, 13 of 30, 6 of 30 — 49 of 181, 27.1%. Golden State: 7 of 33, 7 of 24, 12 of 30, 4 of 25, 6 of 24, 7 of 27, 5 of 20 — 48 of 183, 26.2%. The 10-attempt gap exists in Game 7 and almost nowhere else.

### Twelve minutes

It lands in the fourth quarter. Atlanta attempted eight threes in those twelve minutes and made one. Golden State attempted two and made one. The one was Williams, from 31 feet, at 2:18, immediately after Rhyne Howard's driving layup had tied the game at 57. Atlanta's last five field-goal attempts of the season were all threes.

Howard's series is the cleanest record of it. Her three-point line, game by game: 2 of 9, 1 of 5, 1 of 2, 2 of 8, 3 of 8, 4 of 6, 0 of 7. Thirteen of 45. Her scoring climbed four straight games into the last one — 12, 5, 16, 19, 20, 21 — then 38 minutes, 3 of 14, six points, and the only night of the series without a three.

The rest of the ledger: Atlanta 23 of 69, 33%, 6 of 30 from distance, 20%, 73% from the line, 35 rebounds, 10 turnovers, largest lead nine. Golden State 24 of 64, 38%, 5 of 20, 25%, 94% from the line, 37 rebounds, nine turnovers, largest lead eight. Allisha Gray went 5 of 16. Jordin Canada led Atlanta with 18 on 6 of 15. Reese: eight points on 3 of 7, 12 rebounds, four turnovers, minus-9.

I am not going to tell you Atlanta took bad shots. Nobody has that data — not shot quality, not pressure. What exists is how many there were and when. Two teams read the same twelve minutes in opposite directions, and the one that stopped taking the shot it takes more than anybody has the trophy.

Saturday morning I argued this would be about that building, and by Sunday I had moved it inside the game. Same argument, smaller scale, and the only part of Saturday nobody has written down.

Godfrey's column will age better than most of what gets written this week, because what he describes is real and is the part the city keeps. But reaching for significance faster than you reach for the tape leaves you with a beautiful story and no idea what happened inside it. Both belong in the record. The chants, and the count.