duncan228
12-16-2008, 03:02 PM
Perfect player for troubled times (http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2008/writers/steve_aschburner/12/16/duncan.spurs/?eref=sircrc)
Steve Aschburner
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x282/duncan228/temp/lead10.jpg
Tim Duncan isn't showing signs of slowing down at age 32.
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x282/duncan228/temp/lead11.jpg
Tim Duncan (above) would have been a great Celtic alongside Larry Bird and Kevin McHale, according to Spurs coach Gregg Popovich.
Every time Spurs rookie George Hill tells the story, someone runs over to Tim Duncan to confirm it. And Duncan winces. It happened again the other night in Minnesota: Tell, run, confirm, wince.
"I have it in a case and everything. It was, like, a 'gold millennium' card,'' said Hill, a San Antonio guard who took the underdog route to the NBA -- he starred at IUPUI -- but had pull in all the right places at least this once. An aunt of his worked with security and ushers at the Indiana Pacers' home games, giving little Georgie ("I was 11 or 12'') access to the arena's back hallways on a night when San Antonio visited to face Reggie Miller, Rik Smits and the fellas.
The happy result? An autographed Duncan collectible -- "When we get back home, I'm going to bring it to practice and show him I've got a card he signed'' -- and a tale that makes Duncan feel old beyond his 32 years. Hill might as well have told his large teammate that he grew up watching kinescope replays of Duncan's battles with Alcindor, Thurmond and Mikan.
"Yeah, yeah,'' Duncan said, eager to change the subject. "I don't enjoy the story, no.''
And yet there it is, signed, sealed and soon-to-be-delivered evidence of Duncan's senior status and staying power. For all of his team's tweaks, adjustments and shifts in emphasis, he remains the big tent pole holding up the canvas over San Antonio's center ring. With Shaquille O'Neal on his way out and Dwight Howard still on his way in, Duncan still reigns as Goldilocks' choice as the league's best big man.
He takes heat for his boredom quotient; the new Macrophenomenal Pro Basketball Almanac, courtesy of the FreeDarko Web site folks, dubs Duncan "Mechanical Gothic.'' It describes him as "the methodical plumbing that allows the NBA universe to function'' and claims he stands for "the magnificence of the mundane.'' It means all that in the best possible sense but, be honest, none among us would want to be likened to indoor plumbing or something from a utensil drawer.
Duncan, I would argue, is more than a thinking man's player or a purist's favorite. He is the perfect player for our troubled times, cash on the barrelhead in a world reeling from credit-default swaps, as reliable as U.S. treasury bills for folks snookered by the latest Bernard Madoff. There is something reassuring about a guy such as Duncan, whose season-by-season log is like a sheepdog -- at first glance, you're not sure whether you're looking at the front end or the back end, his rookie year or this, his 12th season.
"I pride myself on being consistent every year, and playing at the same level,'' Duncan said after finishing with 17 points (on 7-of-13 shooting) and 13 rebounds in 35 minutes in a recent victory at Minnesota. It came in between his performances against Atlanta (19 points, 11 rebounds, 7-of-15, 35 minutes) and Oklahoma City (20, 12, 6-of-12, 36). The only things missing were a clock to punch and the coffee breaks.
"Obviously, you want to be the best you can be, but it ends up where I'm sitting around the same area just about every year," he said. "I'm very proud of that and I hope to be able to do that until I walk out the door.'' A.k.a., quitting time.
Duncan's stats are self-contained and virtually interchangeable. If you clipped his personal record horizontally, one line at a time, you could toss them into the air and reassemble them in whatever order you picked them up. He is to 20-10 what Dr Pepper is to 10-2-4, what Hugh Downs was to 20/20: Bankable.
"The Big Fundamental. That's what I think of when I think of him,'' said Timberwolves rookie forward Kevin Love, who studied Duncan's prowess under the tutelage of his dad, former NBAer (and for 12 games with the Spurs, ABAer) Stan Love."That, and regardless of whether he's having a terrible game, regardless of whether he's having a great game, he's the same.'' As in deadpan expression. Stone face. Same old, same old.
"I think of winning, too,'' Love said.
San Antonio got incredibly lucky in 1997, coming up with the top pick in the lottery that May just as Duncan was wrapping up four years at Wake Forest. He got incredibly lucky, too, landing next to David Robinson on a good team experiencing a blip rather than next to Antoine Walker on the complete rehab project in Boston. Duncan, Robinson, coach Gregg Popovich, the rest of the Spurs and their fans have flourished together; San Antonio has won 630 of 893 regular-season games since (a league-best .705 winning percentage) and four NBA titles. Only Shaq, among active greats, has as many championships.
The hard part from where we sit is trying to come up with something new to write about Duncan, who shows far softer edges to the public than elbows to opponents. It's like figuring out something new to say about the Grand Canyon, the Mississippi River or the Sphinx (at least when the great stone critter isn't whining over a referee's whistle). As in: It's, uh, still there. And, y'know, still great.
"He, as a 'big' right now, is by far the best,'' Timberwolves coach Kevin McHale said. "He's smart. He doesn't run around. No wasted energy. Things I'm trying to get our guys to do -- basketball's a game of read-and-react. Especially with young guys, they want to 'run' the offense. But the offense doesn't score -- the read inside the offense does. Things happen, Tim just stands there and goes [McHale very slowly looks left, very slowly looks right]. Then he moves into the open spot.
"Believe it or not, that's how everybody played. You didn't run on top of each other. You gave everybody space. He's different because, right now, for whatever reason -- either how the game is taught or how the young guys play in AAU or whatever -- it's, 'We're going to go as fast as we can, run around as fast as we possibly can.' He just takes his time. Let the defense make mistakes.''
Said Duncan: "I'm not a quick guy. If I can slow it down, take my time and go to my own strengths, I can neutralize a lot of what people are able to do against me. You try to make people react to you more than you react to people. When you can do that, you're the one in control. You know what's going on and everyone else has to figure it out on the fly. I try to base my game around that. That's how I've always played.''
For quite a while now. San Antonio recently commemorated Duncan's unofficial 1,000th pro game, adding up his regular-season and playoff (155) outings (but neglecting the preseason, his 10 All-Star appearances and a 2004 trip to the Olympics). It's a heavy load made heavier by the Spurs' routinely long postseasons.
"I don't care what anybody says, when you start getting to 140, 160, 180 playoff games, that's a lot,'' McHale said. "That's not like two extra seasons, that's like three or four extra seasons because of the intensity.''
In Duncan's case, then, it is both the years and the mileage.
"There are lots of things that change along the way,'' he said. "I've never been the most athletic guy, but my athleticism has gone down since I started. I'm not as quick, I don't jump as high, all that stuff. So [it has taken] a conscious decision about playing harder, positioning better, getting to spots, getting your feet set, giving yourself another half second to react to something, things like that.''
McHale, one of the great power forwards who played from 1980-93, indicated he would have relished an individual matchup with Duncan. He added: "There are guys who transcend eras. He's one of those guys. Back then, Moses Malone, Kareem [Abdul-Jabbar], Bob Lanier, they just said, 'You better worry about me, too.' There are not a lot of guys who Tim has to say, 'I've got to worry about this guy tonight.' There's one now, Yao [Ming], who's going to give him the blues if he doesn't pay attention. But there are a lot of nights, I watch him play and I think, 'Boy, how good would it be to guard that guy on defense and save all your energy for offense? That's a pretty good trade-off.''
Popovich, too, could imagine Duncan back in the days of short shorts and tall hair.
"He's not Mr. Athletic. He knows it and he almost takes pride in it,'' the Spurs' coach said. "In that sense, he plays a little like [Larry] Bird and McHale played -- an innate understanding of the game and spatial relationships, what teammates are going to do and what's needed at a certain time. Never in a hurry. Always a patient, skillful player who understands the situation.
"I think that's how Kevin played, that's how Larry played. He's almost an anachronism. He's a throwback. He'd have been a great Celtic with those guys.''
Ouch. That probably isn't the way -- Duncan would have been a great Celtic -- Popovich or anyone else with the Spurs ought to put that. Not even these many years later.
Winning Is Everything
The Spurs have been the NBA's best regular-season team since Tim Duncan's arrival in 1997
Rank Team Record
1 Spurs 630-263 (.705)
2 Lakers 578-316 (.647)
3 Mavericks 550-342 (.617)
4 Suns 542-352 (.606)
Steve Aschburner
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x282/duncan228/temp/lead10.jpg
Tim Duncan isn't showing signs of slowing down at age 32.
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x282/duncan228/temp/lead11.jpg
Tim Duncan (above) would have been a great Celtic alongside Larry Bird and Kevin McHale, according to Spurs coach Gregg Popovich.
Every time Spurs rookie George Hill tells the story, someone runs over to Tim Duncan to confirm it. And Duncan winces. It happened again the other night in Minnesota: Tell, run, confirm, wince.
"I have it in a case and everything. It was, like, a 'gold millennium' card,'' said Hill, a San Antonio guard who took the underdog route to the NBA -- he starred at IUPUI -- but had pull in all the right places at least this once. An aunt of his worked with security and ushers at the Indiana Pacers' home games, giving little Georgie ("I was 11 or 12'') access to the arena's back hallways on a night when San Antonio visited to face Reggie Miller, Rik Smits and the fellas.
The happy result? An autographed Duncan collectible -- "When we get back home, I'm going to bring it to practice and show him I've got a card he signed'' -- and a tale that makes Duncan feel old beyond his 32 years. Hill might as well have told his large teammate that he grew up watching kinescope replays of Duncan's battles with Alcindor, Thurmond and Mikan.
"Yeah, yeah,'' Duncan said, eager to change the subject. "I don't enjoy the story, no.''
And yet there it is, signed, sealed and soon-to-be-delivered evidence of Duncan's senior status and staying power. For all of his team's tweaks, adjustments and shifts in emphasis, he remains the big tent pole holding up the canvas over San Antonio's center ring. With Shaquille O'Neal on his way out and Dwight Howard still on his way in, Duncan still reigns as Goldilocks' choice as the league's best big man.
He takes heat for his boredom quotient; the new Macrophenomenal Pro Basketball Almanac, courtesy of the FreeDarko Web site folks, dubs Duncan "Mechanical Gothic.'' It describes him as "the methodical plumbing that allows the NBA universe to function'' and claims he stands for "the magnificence of the mundane.'' It means all that in the best possible sense but, be honest, none among us would want to be likened to indoor plumbing or something from a utensil drawer.
Duncan, I would argue, is more than a thinking man's player or a purist's favorite. He is the perfect player for our troubled times, cash on the barrelhead in a world reeling from credit-default swaps, as reliable as U.S. treasury bills for folks snookered by the latest Bernard Madoff. There is something reassuring about a guy such as Duncan, whose season-by-season log is like a sheepdog -- at first glance, you're not sure whether you're looking at the front end or the back end, his rookie year or this, his 12th season.
"I pride myself on being consistent every year, and playing at the same level,'' Duncan said after finishing with 17 points (on 7-of-13 shooting) and 13 rebounds in 35 minutes in a recent victory at Minnesota. It came in between his performances against Atlanta (19 points, 11 rebounds, 7-of-15, 35 minutes) and Oklahoma City (20, 12, 6-of-12, 36). The only things missing were a clock to punch and the coffee breaks.
"Obviously, you want to be the best you can be, but it ends up where I'm sitting around the same area just about every year," he said. "I'm very proud of that and I hope to be able to do that until I walk out the door.'' A.k.a., quitting time.
Duncan's stats are self-contained and virtually interchangeable. If you clipped his personal record horizontally, one line at a time, you could toss them into the air and reassemble them in whatever order you picked them up. He is to 20-10 what Dr Pepper is to 10-2-4, what Hugh Downs was to 20/20: Bankable.
"The Big Fundamental. That's what I think of when I think of him,'' said Timberwolves rookie forward Kevin Love, who studied Duncan's prowess under the tutelage of his dad, former NBAer (and for 12 games with the Spurs, ABAer) Stan Love."That, and regardless of whether he's having a terrible game, regardless of whether he's having a great game, he's the same.'' As in deadpan expression. Stone face. Same old, same old.
"I think of winning, too,'' Love said.
San Antonio got incredibly lucky in 1997, coming up with the top pick in the lottery that May just as Duncan was wrapping up four years at Wake Forest. He got incredibly lucky, too, landing next to David Robinson on a good team experiencing a blip rather than next to Antoine Walker on the complete rehab project in Boston. Duncan, Robinson, coach Gregg Popovich, the rest of the Spurs and their fans have flourished together; San Antonio has won 630 of 893 regular-season games since (a league-best .705 winning percentage) and four NBA titles. Only Shaq, among active greats, has as many championships.
The hard part from where we sit is trying to come up with something new to write about Duncan, who shows far softer edges to the public than elbows to opponents. It's like figuring out something new to say about the Grand Canyon, the Mississippi River or the Sphinx (at least when the great stone critter isn't whining over a referee's whistle). As in: It's, uh, still there. And, y'know, still great.
"He, as a 'big' right now, is by far the best,'' Timberwolves coach Kevin McHale said. "He's smart. He doesn't run around. No wasted energy. Things I'm trying to get our guys to do -- basketball's a game of read-and-react. Especially with young guys, they want to 'run' the offense. But the offense doesn't score -- the read inside the offense does. Things happen, Tim just stands there and goes [McHale very slowly looks left, very slowly looks right]. Then he moves into the open spot.
"Believe it or not, that's how everybody played. You didn't run on top of each other. You gave everybody space. He's different because, right now, for whatever reason -- either how the game is taught or how the young guys play in AAU or whatever -- it's, 'We're going to go as fast as we can, run around as fast as we possibly can.' He just takes his time. Let the defense make mistakes.''
Said Duncan: "I'm not a quick guy. If I can slow it down, take my time and go to my own strengths, I can neutralize a lot of what people are able to do against me. You try to make people react to you more than you react to people. When you can do that, you're the one in control. You know what's going on and everyone else has to figure it out on the fly. I try to base my game around that. That's how I've always played.''
For quite a while now. San Antonio recently commemorated Duncan's unofficial 1,000th pro game, adding up his regular-season and playoff (155) outings (but neglecting the preseason, his 10 All-Star appearances and a 2004 trip to the Olympics). It's a heavy load made heavier by the Spurs' routinely long postseasons.
"I don't care what anybody says, when you start getting to 140, 160, 180 playoff games, that's a lot,'' McHale said. "That's not like two extra seasons, that's like three or four extra seasons because of the intensity.''
In Duncan's case, then, it is both the years and the mileage.
"There are lots of things that change along the way,'' he said. "I've never been the most athletic guy, but my athleticism has gone down since I started. I'm not as quick, I don't jump as high, all that stuff. So [it has taken] a conscious decision about playing harder, positioning better, getting to spots, getting your feet set, giving yourself another half second to react to something, things like that.''
McHale, one of the great power forwards who played from 1980-93, indicated he would have relished an individual matchup with Duncan. He added: "There are guys who transcend eras. He's one of those guys. Back then, Moses Malone, Kareem [Abdul-Jabbar], Bob Lanier, they just said, 'You better worry about me, too.' There are not a lot of guys who Tim has to say, 'I've got to worry about this guy tonight.' There's one now, Yao [Ming], who's going to give him the blues if he doesn't pay attention. But there are a lot of nights, I watch him play and I think, 'Boy, how good would it be to guard that guy on defense and save all your energy for offense? That's a pretty good trade-off.''
Popovich, too, could imagine Duncan back in the days of short shorts and tall hair.
"He's not Mr. Athletic. He knows it and he almost takes pride in it,'' the Spurs' coach said. "In that sense, he plays a little like [Larry] Bird and McHale played -- an innate understanding of the game and spatial relationships, what teammates are going to do and what's needed at a certain time. Never in a hurry. Always a patient, skillful player who understands the situation.
"I think that's how Kevin played, that's how Larry played. He's almost an anachronism. He's a throwback. He'd have been a great Celtic with those guys.''
Ouch. That probably isn't the way -- Duncan would have been a great Celtic -- Popovich or anyone else with the Spurs ought to put that. Not even these many years later.
Winning Is Everything
The Spurs have been the NBA's best regular-season team since Tim Duncan's arrival in 1997
Rank Team Record
1 Spurs 630-263 (.705)
2 Lakers 578-316 (.647)
3 Mavericks 550-342 (.617)
4 Suns 542-352 (.606)