A measured win in Riga
Eighteen out of eighteen. Serbia’s perfect night at the free-throw line, against a host crowd in Riga, told you a lot about their composure in a game that never felt flashy but rarely slipped from their hands. Latvia were nearly flawless too at the stripe (22/23), which is why this felt tight for long stretches. Yet from the middle of the first quarter onward, Serbia looked like the steadier team, stacking stops, managing tempo, and making every small possession count.
Head coach Svetislav Pešić called it what it was: a difficult game with high concentration from both sides. He praised his players for their focus and body language—calm, economical, and locked in when it mattered. You could see the plan in the small things: controlled pace after makes, careful spacing to avoid cheap turnovers, and smart fouls to tame Latvia’s rhythm. In a building that was loud from warmups to the horn, Serbia played the percentages and won them.
The free throws weren’t a footnote; they were a mirror of the mindset. Serbia didn’t rush shots, hunted better looks, and paid off their patience at the line. Latvia matched them stride for stride for most of the night, but Serbia’s poise carried late. Three straight wins now, and with that, an early ticket punched for the final stage in Riga. No confetti yet, but a clear sign this team understands tournament basketball: survive, advance, and stay healthy.
Pešić didn’t celebrate it as if it were anything more. He reminded everyone this isn’t the last dance—just a step. The message in and around the locker room was the same: keep the legs fresh, defend without fouling, and cut out the mental noise. That last part became very real minutes later.
Press room flashpoint and a coach drawing lines
The drama didn’t come on the court. It came when a journalist asked about alleged heated words involving Ognjen Dobrić and Latvia’s Luca Banchi—Dobrić’s former coach at Virtus Bologna. Pešić cut the exchange short, made it clear he wouldn’t entertain that line of questioning, and told the room to stick to basketball. It was abrupt, unmistakable, and vintage Pešić: protect the group, shut down distractions, move on.
Dobrić himself brushed off the suggestion when asked, and there’s no sign it affected anything on the floor. Latvia’s coach Banchi, a meticulous tactician, kept his team in it with sharp sets out of timeouts, but Serbia met those with disciplined defense and clean execution. That’s the part Pešić seemed intent on highlighting—what happened between the lines, not between individuals from past teams.
Was the exchange tense? Sure. But it also fit the larger theme of Serbia’s night: containment. Contain Latvia’s spurts, contain the emotions of back-to-back games, contain the swirl of storylines around familiar faces. Pešić’s stance wasn’t subtle, but it was consistent with a coach who believes that anything not helping the next possession is a distraction.
That focus showed up even before tipoff. With less than 24 hours since the win over Portugal, Pešić scrapped a regular on-court practice and shifted the team into analysis mode. Film over sweat. Walk-throughs over full-tilt drills. It was a switch designed to save legs in a tournament that can chew up teams that burn energy the wrong way. Against a host nation with momentum, Serbia arrived prepared and not overcooked.
He also put a clear asterisk on the night: player health. Pešić flagged concern over Bogdan Bogdanović’s condition, something Serbia will monitor closely as the level rises. Bogdanović has been the team’s compass for years—shot creation, decision-making, late-clock steadiness—and his availability shapes what Serbia can run, especially in tight fourth quarters. Expect careful minute management and plenty of staggered lineups to keep him sharp without overtaxing him.
There’s a bigger picture at play, and the coach said it out loud: this one win doesn’t crown anything. Knockout basketball punishes lapses, and the final stage in Riga won’t leave room for sluggish starts or foul trouble. Serbia’s identity—defensive discipline, crisp spacing, and an ability to grind out trips to the line—translates when the margins shrink. The goal now is to carry the same poise into games where one bad three-minute stretch can end a run.
Latvia, for their part, pushed with pace and spacing that had the arena buzzing. They drew fouls, they held their nerve, and they forced Serbia to win this with patience instead of fireworks. That’s not a bad preview of what awaits in the later rounds: veteran coaches trading counters, and games decided by five or six possessions that don’t show up in highlight packages—extra passes, late closeouts, box-outs on long rebounds.
Pešić’s post-game message landed on a simple theme: control what you can. That includes the scoreboard, the tempo, and—if he can help it—the narrative. He doesn’t want side stories pulling oxygen from the room. Whether you liked his tone or not, it aligns with the way Serbia are playing: restrained, methodical, and increasingly sure of themselves.
Three wins in three outings and a place booked for the business end in Riga is a solid return for a team managing a demanding schedule. They’ve handled the back-to-back, absorbed the noise, and banked confidence without acting like they’ve cracked the code. The team that got every free throw to drop tonight understands something basic about EuroBasket: you don’t have to be spectacular; you have to be relentless, precise, and healthy when the bracket tightens.
The road from here gets steeper, and Serbia know it. The plan is written in their actions—rest smart, study hard, defend first. If they keep that balance, they’ll give themselves a chance to control their destiny, just like their coach keeps saying.
