MEMPHIS, Tenn. -- Marc Gasol walked into the postgame interview room and looked down at the two tiny steps in front of him. Climbing them was an obvious chore for the 7-footer, who was visibly spent from playing 44 exhausting minutes in Game 6 against the Golden State Warriors.

He unbuttoned his Venetian red jacket, eased his giant frame into a small folding chair and let out a loud sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment, maybe to try to sneak in a quick nap, but probably to clear his head and gather his thoughts. The sudden and searing pain of his season ending too early yet again was washing over him, blocking thoughts that this was possibly his final game in a Grizzlies uniform.

"I haven't even spent a second thinking of that," he said. "I'm drained right now. I couldn't pull it out for my teammates tonight. I gave it all I had."

This is an all-too-familiar feeling for Gasol, who will be an unrestricted free agent this summer. It's his fifth consecutive postseason elimination, four coming in the first or second round. What stings most about this one, though, is that this was the Grizzlies' best, most complete team. And after taking a 2-1 series lead behind frenetic defense and jarring physicality, the Grizzlies couldn't match the Warriors' shrewd adjustments and were left helpless as the best team in basketball shredded them mercilessly.

"We won 55 games, and we have something that other people have to really scheme against," Grizzlies coach Dave Joerger said. "We found in Game 4 that they made a nice adjustment. Basically, they just jammed it up and dared us to shoot it from the perimeter."

With defensive ace Tony Allen hobbled with a strained hamstring, the Grizzlies fell in a 7-0 hole, seemingly within seconds, and were down 32-19 after a quarter.

Every Grizzlies' huddle in the first half was a mix of confusion, frustration and demoralization. There wasn't much talking. Just lots of long, blank staring with plenty of head-shaking and towel-throwing. It didn't make sense. Why couldn't they hang with these guys anymore?

The Grizzlies wouldn't be the Grizzlies without backbone, though. Behind a methodical, winding, laborious comeback, they nibbled the Warriors' 15-point lead down to one with 3:55 left in the third. It was 2½ quarters of sweat equity, a piecemeal comeback done with a bunch of 4-2 runs. Nevertheless, the Grindhouse was alive.

But if the Grizzlies are a cement mixer, the Warriors are a Tesla coil. What took Memphis 2½ quarters was undone in one 90-second electric flourish, stamped by Stephen Curry's 62-foot buzzer-beater to finish the third.

"It was kind of a shot to the gut for us with how much we ran it back in the third quarter," Joerger said. "I think our intensity coming out at halftime felt like we had new life."

Instead, Curry's shot was a dagger of epic proportions. A full-court haymaker, one that punctuated the gap that developed between the two teams over the final three games of the series. The Grizzlies were entirely befuddled, handcuffed by a one-dimensional roster that couldn't match the elastic Warrior lineups.

The series was billed as style against style, with the Grizzlies' traditional, two-big ground-and-pound against the Warriors' contemporary all-purpose attack. And as it played out, it was the same old postseason story for Memphis: Enough to remain exceptionally competitive, but not enough to advance.

"The series was a good series," Joerger said. "It was about which style won out."

The Grizzlies are very direct. They want to play inside-out, focusing everything at their two beastly bigs and reluctantly relying on the perimeter. But as Steve Kerr and the Warriors played their ace in the hole, cross-matching Andrew Bogut on Allen, the Grizzlies didn't have a countermove. More than any other team in the league, they are who they are. Their identity is forged in grit and grind, which unfortunately doesn't include versatility and flexibility, hallmarks of today's pace-and-space NBA.

"We have who we have," Mike Conley said. "We have our personnel. We play through our personnel. We have big guys, and that's what we have to play through our strengths. We can't change that. We have to work with what we have. We've done a phenomenal job with it, but I think us going into next season, we have to find ways to free up guys on the outside, get guys that can get easy looks, try to open up and knock them down and get more opportunities for our big guys."

The annoying narrative that still hangs around is that jumpers don't win in the playoffs, that 3-pointers are a siren song of temptation, not of tried-and-true success. Well, no team is more interior focused and less reliant on jumpshooting than the Grizzlies, and here are their past five playoff performances:

• Lost in the second round in seven games to the Thunder.

• Lost in the first round in seven games to the Clippers.

• Lost in the Western Conference finals in four games to the Spurs (after getting by the Westbrook-less Thunder).

• Lost in the first round in seven games to the Thunder.

• Lost in the second round in six games to the Warriors.

The Grizzlies will fight you. They will rough you up. They're going to turn a series into a competitive brawl. But can they actually be a championship threat?

"As you pass rounds, the test gets a little tougher because teams scheme you a little more, and they send in the questions of the exam," Gasol said. "They tell you what you've got to get better at. It's up to you if you want to listen to them or not or if you want to answer them. But it's really up to every single player to try and be as complete as they can be so when that test comes, you're ready for those questions and you can answer them."

The answer seems to be obvious. The Grizzlies have to adapt, have to adjust, have to evolve. They've played their stubborn way for five years now, and it's produced admirable success. This is a unique roster that plays a one-of-a-kind style. Even more, this was probably the Grizzlies' best team. They just couldn't match the Warrior buzz saw, and that's where lines get blurred. The Grizzlies had a terrific season; they also weren't good enough. There's something to be proud of in giving the Warriors hell; there's also nothing tangible to take from it.

That's what Gasol has to ask himself this summer when he does decide it's time to think about his future. He's watched this same postseason story play out the past five years. The Grizzlies are a Western Conference pillar, a reliable playoff beast that will push anyone they're matched against. But as Gasol's exasperated, postgame sigh spelled out, that's not enough. Annual disappointment isn't satisfying anybody.

The Grizzlies take pride in being different, in being stubborn, in being rigid with their style. The identity of the franchise is built around grit and grind, around the blue-collar mentality, around playing in the mud. The fan base has embraced it, the organization has marketed it.

Only one problem: It just can't win.