Who Won the 2013 NBA Defensive Player of the Year and Why It Still Matters

I still remember watching that 2013 season unfold, thinking about how defensive excellence often gets overshadowed by flashy offensive plays. When Marc Gasol won the Defensive Player of the Year award, it wasn't just another trophy ceremony—it felt like validation for every player who believed defense wins championships. What fascinates me even now, nearly a decade later, is how Gasol's victory represents something fundamental about basketball that we often forget in today's three-point obsessed game. His win mattered then, and honestly, it matters even more now when I look at how defense has evolved in the modern NBA.

That 2013 Memphis Grizzlies team was something special defensively, allowing just 89.3 points per game—a number that seems almost impossible in today's pace-and-space era. Gasol anchored that defense with an intelligence I've rarely seen since. He wasn't the most athletic center, but his positioning and anticipation were absolutely brilliant. I've rewatched those games multiple times, and what strikes me is how he controlled the paint without necessarily blocking every shot. He forced opponents into difficult attempts, communicated defensive rotations perfectly, and honestly made everyone around him better defensively. That's the mark of a truly great defender—someone who elevates the entire defensive scheme rather than just accumulating individual stats.

Here's what many people don't realize about that DPOY race—Gasol actually received fewer first-place votes than LeBron James, but won because of how the voting system worked at the time. Some argued then, and still do now, that LeBron was more deserving. But having studied both their defensive impacts that season, I firmly believe the voters got it right. Gasol's defensive presence transformed the Grizzlies into legitimate contenders, while LeBron's defense, though spectacular at times, wasn't as consistently central to Miami's identity. The Grizzlies built their entire defensive system around Gasol's abilities, and it showed in their league-leading defensive rating.

Now, you might wonder why we're still talking about this nearly ten years later. The answer lies in how defense has changed since then. Today's defensive schemes are more about switching everything and protecting the three-point line, whereas Gasol's defense represented the last great example of traditional rim protection combined with high-IQ team defense. I miss watching that style of basketball—the deliberate, physical, mentally exhausting defense that could grind opponents down over 48 minutes. Modern defenses are effective in their own way, but they've lost some of that strategic depth that made Gasol's Grizzlies so fascinating to watch.

This brings me to that curious reference about Creamline being the "league's winningest team" that has "seen this film before." While this comes from a different sport entirely, the principle translates beautifully to basketball. Championship teams, whether in basketball or volleyball, understand that sustainable success comes from building systems rather than relying on individual brilliance. Gasol's DPOY season demonstrated this perfectly—the Grizzlies had seen opponents try to attack their defense in various ways before, and like that experienced winning team, they had answers ready. They'd studied the film, understood tendencies, and built a defensive system that could adapt while maintaining its core principles.

What I find particularly relevant today is how Gasol's style of defense would translate to the modern game. With his high basketball IQ and exceptional passing, he'd likely thrive even in today's pace-and-space NBA. His ability to read offenses before they develop would make him invaluable in defensive schemes that require constant communication and adjustment. Honestly, I think we're missing players like him in today's game—big men who prioritize positioning and intelligence over athleticism alone. The best defenders today still embody many of Gasol's qualities, just adapted to different defensive challenges.

The statistical impact Gasol had that season still impresses me when I look back at the numbers. The Grizzlies' defensive rating of 97.4 led the league, and they held opponents to just 43.5% shooting when Gasol was on the floor. More importantly, they were 8.3 points per 100 possessions better defensively with him playing versus when he sat. These aren't just good numbers—they're transformative, championship-level defensive metrics. Yet what the stats can't capture is the psychological impact he had on opponents. Teams would alter their entire offensive game plans because of his presence, something that doesn't always show up in traditional box scores.

Reflecting on why this still matters, I keep coming back to how defense creates championship identities. The teams that endure, that handle playoff pressure best, are usually those with defensive systems that travel well. Gasol's Grizzlies, like that "winningest team" reference, understood that defense provides consistency when offense inevitably fails. In close playoff games, when sets break down and players revert to instinct, it's defensive fundamentals that separate champions from contenders. This lesson feels more relevant than ever in today's NBA, where offensive numbers have inflated but defensive execution still decides most playoff series.

I've noticed that the truly great defensive players share certain qualities regardless of era—they're students of the game, they communicate constantly, and they take personal pride in stopping opponents. Gasol exemplified this, and his DPOY season serves as a blueprint for how big men can impact games without needing to score 25 points per game. As the game continues to evolve, I hope coaches still show clips from that 2013 Grizzlies defense to young players. Because while offensive strategies change dramatically across eras, the principles of great team defense remain remarkably consistent. And that's why, nearly a decade later, Marc Gasol's Defensive Player of the Year award still matters—it reminds us what truly lasts in basketball.