Cavs Embrace Pure Joy of the Game in Christmas Day Moment

As the Cavaliers return to the NBAs Christmas Day spotlight, players and coaches alike reflect on how embracing joy keeps the spirit of the game alive.

Cavs Return to Christmas Day Spotlight with a Reminder: It's Still a Kid’s Game

On Christmas morning, across the country, basketballs are unwrapped, sneakers are laced up, and driveway hoops become arenas in the minds of kids dreaming of the big stage. And while the NBA’s Christmas Day slate has become a marquee event-part holiday tradition, part basketball showcase-it also serves as a quiet reminder to the players: this is still a game meant to be enjoyed.

For the Cleveland Cavaliers, back on the league’s biggest holiday stage for the first time since 2018, that reminder couldn’t have come at a better time.

Even after a dominant win over the New Orleans Pelicans earlier in the week, head coach Kenny Atkinson found himself caught in the emotional tug-of-war that comes with leading a team through an 82-game grind.

“We were up 23, and they cut it to 18 in the fourth,” Atkinson said. “I started to get upset.”

But before the frustration could take over, Darius Garland stepped in-not with words, but with a simple gesture.

“He hit me on the cheek,” Atkinson recalled. “Just a little tap, like, ‘Smile.’

He knows I get uptight sometimes, and that was his way of reminding me-this is a kids’ game. There’s supposed to be joy in it.”

That moment says a lot about the culture inside the Cavs’ locker room. Leadership doesn’t always come with speeches or stat lines. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to exhale, when to laugh, when to let the game breathe.

For Garland, that joy isn’t just a vibe-it’s a philosophy. It’s how the Cavs move, how they connect, and how they navigate the inevitable ups and downs of an NBA season.

Jaylon Tyson, one of the youngest players on the roster, sees the impact clearly.

“It means the world,” Tyson said. “There’s going to be adversity. But when you play free, when you play for your teammates, when you play with love for the game-it makes everything easier.”

Christmas Day magnifies that feeling. It collapses time.

Veterans flash back to their childhoods. Kids see a glimpse of what could be.

And for a few hours, the NBA becomes less about contracts and rotations and more about the simple joy of the game.

“There’s nothing like it,” said Cavs veteran big man Thomas Bryant. “As a kid, you dream about being part of this. You watch those games on TV, and now you’re in one.”

Bryant’s been around long enough to know the balance required. The lights are bright, the moment is special-but the job still has to get done.

“You try to relish the moment,” he said, “but you also know there’s work to do.”

That balance-between joy and responsibility, nostalgia and competition-is at the heart of Christmas Day basketball. And for Atkinson, it’s the NBA at its purest.

“Man, if you’re not up for that, you better hang it up,” he said. “It’s a celebration.

That’s the marquee game. I’ve been part of it before-there’s nothing like going to The Garden at noon.

But we’re playing a heck of a Knicks team that’s rolling. It’s going to be a great challenge, and we’re looking forward to it.”

Atkinson knows what comes next. The grind.

The emotional valleys. The mental fatigue.

The parts of the season that test even the most resilient teams. That’s why Christmas Day isn’t just another game-it’s a checkpoint.

A chance to reconnect with the love that brought them to the league in the first place.

And that’s where leadership becomes essential-not just in the box score, but in the locker room, in the quiet moments between games, in the way a team holds itself together when the season gets long.

“I talk to our leaders a lot about how important their energy is,” Atkinson said. “Their demeanor, their emotions-that stuff matters.

It helps us weather the tough stretches. And I’m thankful we’ve got great leaders.”

Atkinson didn’t hesitate when asked who sets that tone.

“Starts with Don,” he said, referring to Donovan Mitchell. “He’s probably the most positive athlete I’ve ever been around.”

Mitchell’s leadership isn’t limited to huddles or highlight plays. Sometimes, it’s something as simple-and generous-as a gift.

“I got everybody PlayStations and Xboxes,” Mitchell said casually before the Cavs headed to New York.

It might seem like a small thing, but it fits the larger theme: play together, stay connected, and remember why they started playing in the first place.

That idea stretches beyond Cleveland. It resonates across the league.

Pelicans coach James Borrego has lived the other side of the equation-the version of coaching where every possession feels like a referendum, where joy becomes a casualty of competition.

“I lived and died with every game,” Borrego said. “And you start to ask yourself, ‘Are you really enjoying this?’”

His perspective shifted during a year away from the sidelines. Watching the game through the eyes of his sons, he rediscovered what it meant to love the game again.

“They actually pay us to do this,” Borrego said. “What an incredible opportunity.

We’re all better-coaches, players-when we’re enjoying it. When we remember that it’s a game.

Smile a little more. Have a little more fun.

That joy rubs off on everyone.”

That mindset is something Atkinson has worked to embrace over time-especially under the mentorship of Warriors head coach Steve Kerr, who’s seen firsthand how Atkinson has evolved.

“He’s a competitor, and he’s smart as hell,” Kerr said earlier this month. “The New Yorker in him comes out sometimes.

But coming out to California helped him relax a little bit. He’s gained perspective, and I think he’s navigating it beautifully now.”

That navigation will be tested again on Christmas Day. The Cavs will face a tough Knicks squad under the spotlight, with the league watching. But for Cleveland, it’s more than just a game-it’s a moment to reconnect with the joy that fuels everything.

To honor the kid inside the professional.

To protect the joy in a season built to drain it.

To remember why they fell in love with the game in the first place.

And maybe, just maybe, to make a coach smile again.