SAN ANTONIO — Twenty-two-year-old Tarris Reed Jr. felt like a kid again.
He wasn't as short as he once was. His face had matured. But there he stood, dressed in a pinstripe suit, black tie and San Antonio Spurs ball cap. He clutched a teddy bear.
"Look!" he yelled just loud enough for his phone to hear, shaking the stuffed animal. "I had this when I was a little kid! When I was a little kid! I was like 8 years old with this little bear!"
Unsure if he was going to be a first-round pick — and without a green room invite — Reed held his NBA Draft party with friends and family at his home in St. Louis. Just in case, the former UConn Husky had every team's draft hat ready to wear. Fate had a pretty good idea.
Years earlier, Reed and his family sat down at NBA City at Universal CityWalk while on vacation in Orlando, Fla. — a now-closed league-themed restaurant featuring a gift shop and arcade. Reed found himself trying his luck at a random claw machine in the latter.
"I won," Reed said, smiling. "I had the Spurs teddy bear."
Reed had long since parted with the teddy bear; as the oldest of three siblings, it went to his brother Trevor when Reed got older, and it wasn't until Reed returned home from UConn in April, mentally preparing for a month on the road for private workouts, that he saw it again.
His mother, Darlene, made sure the teddy bear found its way downstairs when San Antonio traded up from pick No. 35 to pick No. 26 to select Reed in the first round.
Another piece of Reed's childhood unearthed when he realized where he was headed.
"The Spurs just have this winning culture," the 6-foot-10 center told reporters on Zoom a few minutes after he was drafted. "Especially growing up ... I've been a huge fan of Pop. Tony Parker. Kawhi (Leonard). This is such a blessing just to be a part of it. I'm just so thankful."
The teddy bear reminded Reed of where he'd been. San Antonio was showing him how far he still had to go. Reed has taken a liking to Carter Bryant — his vet who's still too young to legally drink. He's seen Popovich in the hallways and spoken at length with Mitch Johnson about the physicality he can bring to San Antonio, especially on the boards.
"I’m not coming here to be no superstar," Reed said. "I’m coming here to do my job.”
The organization Reed finds himself experiencing now reminds him of his days in Storrs, Conn. He's never shy to bring up his days under Dan Hurley, which he believes prepared him for the demands of an NBA schedule. Even then, he's eager to learn more.
"He has the body of an NBA player," De'Aaron Fox said. "Not a lot of guys in this league are built the way that he is. But he's continuing to learn. He's continuing to get better."
Now 23 years old, Reed has plenty of room to grow. He won't let himself forget it.
"You have to have that mindset," Reed told Spurs On SI. "Each and every day is a blessing. Each and every day is not given. But, hey, I'm alive today. Let me make the best out of it."
When five seconds remain on the shot clock, the entirety of the Spurs' coaching staff, bench unit and video crew yells "Butter!" at the top of their lungs for their offense.
In an otherwise quiet gym, the warning was impossible to miss. Reed took full advantage.
Each time the shot clock wound down, the Spurs' rookie began to work around Los Angeles Lakers defenders to position himself near the rim. If he wasn't going to be fed the ball, he'd have a chance to recover it and give his teammates another crack at scoring.
Four times, it worked. The Summer Spurs fell just short of the Lakers, 88-84, in the final game of the California Classic at Chase Center; Reed mustered 12 points and 12 rebounds in the losing effort. Results notwithstanding, he accomplished what he set out to do.
"Tarris is going to continue to get better," said Spurs assistant coach Corliss Williamson, who led the Summer Spurs in San Francisco and Las Vegas in July. "He brings a physical presence, and that's one of the areas we talked about addressing once our season was over.”
The coach continued: "I thought he did a really good job of being aggressive tonight. If he's playing like that, we're definitely going to have a spot for him in minutes.”
The conversation shifted to Reed's expected role in San Antonio. Joining a squad already featuring Victor Wembanyama and Luke Kornet meant the rookie had to bring something to the table that warranted him playing time. He figured that could come on the glass.
"You're not going to get a lot of shots," Williamson told Reed. "So, the way you impact the game is through your physicality. By crashing the offensive glass.”
Reed took it to heart: Through five preseason games, Reed's rebounding had become one of the most talked-about aspects of his game. Kornet is particularly fond.
"When you have a skill that noticeably jumps off the page," Kornet began, "it gives (you) a great floor, knowing that you can bring something every single night ... obviously, his rebounding has been that. That is what allows you to be able to stay and have a good career."
Each time he's asked, Reed again preaches humility within a system. If he hangs his hat on rebounding, he'll hit the floor on every possession searching for one.
"He's tremendous," Keldon Johnson said. "He's everything you (could) want in a big man."
Reed's response to the best rebounding game of his short NBA career — 17 on the road against the Utah Jazz in the Spurs' third preseason game — involved Hurley. It wasn't good enough.
"I had 10 boards in the first half," Reed said, explaining that Hurley would have "yelled at him" for only grabbing seven in the second half. "I eased up a little bit ... I've got to be better."
Truthfully, Reed thought he had a chance to break his rebounding record. He held himself to that standard. But Reed's teammates, now familiar with his skill set, weren't nearly as critical.
"He's just a dog out there," Spurs two-way guard Ja'Kobi Gillespie said of Reed in Utah. "He had, what? Seventeen boards? That's just insane to me. He's doing a great job.”
Added Fox, tongue-in-cheek: "I think he's been great ... you can tell he's a UConn guy."
The way Reed sees it, his career best was truly an act of God.
Reed explained the stakes: It was his senior season with the Huskies, his final chance at an NCAA championship. He'd been there already two years, and fell short in Year 1.
"You're trying to win," Reed said. "You're trying to go for glory, and you just enter flow state. It's just, 'Hey, how can I impact the game?' You can rebound. Rebound, rebound, rebound."
Rebound, rebound, rebound is what the center did. Reed, attempting to will his No. 2-seeded Huskies past Furman in the first round of March Madness, finished the game with 31 points and 27 rebounds at Xfinity Mobile Arena in Philadelphia. He smiled thinking about it.
"I don't know," he said. "That game was just the Lord, man. The Holy Spirit just took over."
Reed had the same to say of this night as he did against the Jazz. He believed he let up in the second half. This time, Hurley didn't see it the same. His credit went straight to his senior.
“That was the game, this guy," Hurley said, motioning toward Reed postgame. “That’s as dominant a performance as you’ve probably seen from a big guy in tournament history. That’s what he’s capable of. This guy’s a total monster and today he was a real grizzly bear.”
The bear comparison wasn't one Hurley pulled out of thin air. During one of UConn's weekly film sessions last season, the coach asked Reed a simple question:
"What type of bear do you want to be?"
Hurley pulled up a picture of the Care Bears — Nice Bear, Kind Bear, Sweet Bear and Funny Bear, to name a few — and followed it up with a still from 2015's "The Revenant." He showed a scene where a man is viciously mauled by a grizzly bear. Reed made his choice.
"Of course I said the bear from 'The Revenant,'" he said. "In the next game, I played really well."
These days, Reed hears them all: The Kodiak, The Grizz or, sometimes, T-Grizz. The nicknames caught on after Hurley implored UConn fans to flood Reed's social media DMs with pictures of "vicious bears," letting on some of his unorthodox motivation methods.
Reed went home to find the result of Hurley's request. He's since learned that the resulting moniker has several parallels to his game. Right down to how massive grizzlies can be.
"You don't expect bears to move like that," Reed said. "Bears are one of the fastest animals. They're just relentless, apex predators. That's how I have to be on the court."
Becoming a grizzly wasn't always easy. Reed arrived at UConn in 2024 after two seasons at Michigan, joining a program fresh off consecutive national championships.
He had the size, the footwork and the talent to be a force in the paint. What he lacked, by his own admission, was an understanding of what he could do better than everyone else.
"The biggest thing for me going there was like, 'Hey, I feel like I'm good at everything,'" Reed said of transferring to UConn, "but there's not one thing I can say ... I'm great at."
Hurley had an answer. It wasn't always one Reed wanted to hear.
The coach's demands made for a difficult first season in Storrs. Reed averaged 9.6 points and 7.3 rebounds in just under 20 minutes per game, coming off the bench for a Huskies team that fell short of a third consecutive national championship.
By the time the season ended, Reed was questioning whether he wanted to return. The center spent days crying about the decision, which led him back to Hurley. Reed realized that if he wanted to realize his dreams of making the NBA, it would have to go through UConn.
"UConn really helped put me in the limelight," Reed said. "Helped me (show) everyone in the world ... what type of game I had. That's just going to be required of me at the next level.”
Reed didn't need to think long when asked for his favorite Dan Hurley story. There wasn't one particular moment that stood out. It was something the coach did regularly.
"A lot of people haven't seen Coach Hurley go crazy in practice," Reed shared during his introductory rookie press conference. "There will be times where he'll grab his head and be like, 'Tarris! Tarris!' Or he'll lay at half court, on his back, and start kicking the balls."
No stranger to Hurley's antics, Reed walked into Victory Capital Performance Center prepared for anything. Johnson isn't the same kind of expressive, but he gets his point across. Hurley did, too, in a way Reed came to appreciate by the end of his two seasons.
"He's going to coach you at the highest level," Reed said of Hurley. "He's going to demand every ounce ... out of you. I'm here right now. I'm looking back at my whole career. He really did push me to the max. You always are so appreciative and grateful for a coach like that.”
The results followed. Reed started all 35 games of his senior season, averaging 14.7 points, nine rebounds and two blocks on 60.7 percent shooting. He developed into the kind of interior presence Hurley had spent two seasons demanding. But Reed's biggest takeaway wasn't a statistical improvement. It was an understanding of his game.
"I really had to embrace that part of the game where ... you might not get a lot of credit," Reed said, referring, as usual, to rebounding. "I feel like that's what helped us win, man."
Reed has a teammate who can relate: Stephon Castle knows a thing or two about sacrifice.
The Spurs guard spent just one season at UConn, but it was enough to help deliver the Huskies their second consecutive national championship in 2024. By the time Reed arrived in Storrs that summer, Castle was already on his way to San Antonio as the No. 4 overall pick.
Their paths never crossed as teammates in college. Still, they shared an understanding of what it meant to play for Hurley, whose demanding practices and relentless expectations became familiar territory for both players. Castle's pitch was similar to Reed's.
"He knew I wanted to play the 1," Castle told Spurs On SI of Hurley in 2024, "but in order for us to win, I had to sacrifice. He let me know that early, and I didn’t second-guess his decisions."
Hurley promised Castle ample time with the ball in his hands, but after Castle spent his days as the No. 1 option in Covington, Ga., there was bound to be a learning curve. Yet long before the results justified the move, Castle was already bought in to the system.
"He was always super authentic with me," Castle said. "I trusted him with everything."
Reed spent two seasons learning those lessons. Castle needed only one to become an NBA lottery pick. Now, with both wearing silver and black, the former Huskies have found themselves comparing experiences from a program that helped prepare them for the next level.
"That's really what built us at UConn," Reed said. "Having that UConn DNA, knowing a guy like Steph Castle, he knows what it is to play for a guy like Coach Hurley and be in that program. Having two UConn guys on the same team is like a cheat code."
Castle has enjoyed the reunion of sorts, too. During Spurs Media Day, he spoke about the conversations the two had already shared and the opportunity to revisit their college experiences, even if they weren't part of the same UConn team.
"It's great to have another Husky in the building," he said. "Do some trash talking with him."
Reed, for one, is looking forward to getting more runtime against Castle. If it's the two of them diving after a loose ball in practice, he's determined to give the veteran a run for his money.
"Once that opportunity presents itself," Reed began, "you'll both see us both diving on the floor, playing hard, talking on defense. It's going to be really fun and competitive."
The connection extends beyond stories about their former coach. Castle has watched Reed establish himself during workouts and training camp, where his rebounding and physicality have been difficult to overlook. For a player who spent two seasons learning to embrace those strengths, the early reviews have been encouraging.
"He's rebounding the ball like crazy," Castle said of Reed during training camp. "He's finishing. His footwork was sharp, so you could tell he's really been working."
Those details matter to Reed, who understands that his responsibilities in San Antonio won't mirror the ones he carried during his final season at UConn. He isn't expecting the offense to run through him, nor is he measuring his value solely by his scoring output.
A night with zero points and 20 rebounds sounds perfect to him.
"Sign me up," Reed said. "Ten out of 10, I'll do it every time."
Reed had the voice for it. Within seconds, he had Frost Bank Center's attention. As the Spurs' in-arena voice made abundantly clear, he was throwing it all the way back to the '80s.
Bon Jovi's "Livin' On A Prayer" blasted from the speakers up top following the Spurs' Silver & Black Open Scrimmage during their now-annual tradition: Rookie Karaoke Night. Between his belting range and his crowd work, Reed left the night's unofficial emcee impressed.
"Tarris (came) through," Keldon Johnson said, minutes after ragging on the Spurs' other rookies for playing rap songs. "I was shocked. I did not know he was going to play that song.”
Reed hasn't been shy about showing his personality since arriving in San Antonio. On the court, he's a physical presence with a knack for finding the basketball. Away from it, he's more laid-back, with interests that ground him amid the bustle of professional basketball.
He's a big reader, for one. Reed has a list of books he wants to get through, although fiction isn't particularly high on his list. And as he settles into his first NBA season, he's hoping to establish something else in the locker room that speaks to who he is.
"Me and C.B. are looking forward to, hopefully, starting Bible study soon," Reed said, noting that the pair planned to bring the idea to Spurs chaplain Winston Harris.
Reed's faith informs how he plans to approach his rookie season. Knowing how quickly circumstances can change, the center reminds himself not to skip gratitude.
"I feel like it's so easy for me and people in general," Reed began, "to not look around and be grateful for such small things in life ... it may sound cliche, but it will go a long way, man."
As Reed lay in bed the night before the Spurs faced the Suns in the preseason, his mind wandered back to a conversation he had with his friend George. Reed remembers George telling him that he felt like something was off about his relationship with God. Something was missing.
"I told him, 'Bro. Prayer,'" Reed said. "I challenged him to really sit back and look at his life and find all of the things he could be grateful for. You're alive, you're breathing, you're walking, you're talking. You have the ability to do things a lot of people can't. You have a sound mind."
For Reed, that gratitude takes the form of two parents still together: Darlene and Tarris Reed Sr. raised the Spurs' rookie and his two younger brothers, Trevor and Tristan.
Just by meeting them, Mitch Johnson could tell the kind of player he was getting.
"He's got infectious energy," the coach said. "Obviously a great kid. He was coached hard in college. Comes from a great family. Very rooted in the right things. That makes it easy."
The Spurs reached the NBA Finals without Reed, months after the center and his UConn teammates fell to his former Michigan Wolverines in the NCAA championship game. Both sides had gotten close enough to envision a title. Neither got to celebrate one.
"Probably the toughest moment of my life," Reed admitted. "Especially working so hard for it, knowing you can really get there ... (and) you come up short. It's an indescribable feeling."
The disappointment still sticks with Reed. But he sees an opportunity in joining a team that understands it. He isn't arriving as the answer to everything that went wrong in the Finals, but rather another piece for a group determined to return.
On Tuesday, Reed will begin the first regular season of his young NBA career. Like everything else, he's grateful that, somehow, a Grizzly landed in San Antonio.
"I'm excited for this year," Reed said. "Once everything is clicking, no matter what my role is ... as long as I can impact the team, it's special. I'm going to enjoy it and enjoy the journey."
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