Texas_Ranger
02-13-2009, 12:22 PM
http://www.nba.com/2009/allstar2009/02/13/duncan_feature.allstar09.20090213/index.html
By Art Garcia, NBA.com
Posted Feb 13 2009 9:49AM
PHOENIX -- The timeout rant was vintage Gregg Popovich. The Spurs weren't doing something right, actually a lot wrong, and Coach Pop was letting them have it in the huddle.
"I was quite angry and animated," Popovich said. " 'Who are you guys? You guys have a coach? You guys go to practice? I don't recognize any of you guys.' In the middle of my harangue, he sticks out his hand and goes, 'I'm Tim Duncan.'
"He wanted me to meet him."
The ice wasn't just broken. Duncan smashed it with four syllables, turning the huddle into a high-school classroom. Unlike most teachers interrupted by the class clown, Popovich couldn't help but laugh. There would be no detention.
"It's that sort of sarcastic humor that is really endearing to all of his teammates," said Popovich, the only NBA coach Duncan has ever had.
The lighter side of Duncan is rarely seen and is appreciated even less. The boring label, as applied to Duncan and the entire Spurs franchise, is a cop-out in a world screaming for TMZ headlines. Most don't spend the time getting to know the Spurs and, frankly, the Spurs like it that way.
Popovich knows Duncan better than anyone. And he breaks into a smile when discussing the wit of his 11-time All-Star. If only others knew.
"I wish everyone could know what his humor is like," Popovich says.
Don't expect it to happen. Duncan has managed to keep his private side private out of design and circumstance. Though he's the biggest name in the Spurs locker room, a pair of international stars steal enough of the spotlight from No. 21.
Frenchman Tony Parker is half of a Hollywood "it" couple. Manu Ginobili is an Olympic hero in Argentina and an iconic rock star in mostly Hispanic San Antonio. Both have also earned their share of NBA accolades. Their combined celebrity help shield Duncan's introverted public persona, which is carefully protected by the Spurs' front office.
Whereas A-Rod can't hide from the cameras and notepads, Duncan slips in and out with ease and little interruption. The jokester lives within his carefully constructed cocoon.
"He doesn't [joke] with people he doesn't know," Ginobili said. "It's the same in the locker room. He's a great guy and he's open and he talks. He's not as shy and non-communicative as people think. What he shows is not what he really is. When he's in confidence, he's a different guy."
Spurs teammate Matt Bonner explained Duncan's gift for the cheap laugh as "observational humor. If something is funny, he'll notice it and bring it to your attention." One of Duncan's favorite targets is Bonner's ride, a 2006 Pontiac Grand Prix.
"I'm more of a smartass than anything," Duncan freely admits. "It comes naturally that way. It is a long season. Forty or 50 games into the season, it seems to get real long. Being serious every day makes the season even longer.
"We know when to be serious. We know when to joke around. You've got to keep it light so people will like being here."
Duncan and the Spurs find a balance. Their meticulous approach and attention to every detail, forged through the years under Popovich, is sewn into the fabric of the franchise. It doesn't happen by accident.
The Spurs work. Duncan's past offseason was as serious as a tire off an 18-wheeler. Spurs strength coach Mike Brungardt introduced the massive rubber objects in an exercise routine straight out of "Rocky."
"Every year Brungy brings out something new for us," Duncan said. "This year it was flipping 300-pound tires up and down the parking lot. It was a great full-body exercise. The first two, three times you do it, you're absolutely zapped. Your forearms are killing you. You can't do another thing for the rest of the day."
Duncan, 32, changed his eating habits over the summer. And he arrived at the Spurs complex in August, two months before the start of training camp, to begin working out in the oppressive Texas heat. He ran the team's 25-foot, 45-degree outdoor incline, dubbed John Lucas Hill, and sprinted in sand.
With four championships, three Finals MVPs, two MVPs and a certain place in the Hall of Fame, why go so hard? Surely Duncan would remain among the best in the league, if not the best power forward, even if he scaled his workouts back some. But he won't.
"Because he really loves to win and he realizes the responsibility he bears," Popovich said, "and he knows he's got to keep his body at a certain level all the time. That's what it's all about for him. That's why he's in the shape that he's in. He knows as he gets older he has to squeeze everything out of his body, like squeezing blood out of a rock."
Duncan's pragmatic side shows through.
"Getting older," the perennial All-Star starter said simply. "I'm just trying to drop some weight and some body fat. I wanted to get ready for a marathon season. I'm not as young as I used to be and I know my body is going to break down a little bit more than it did in the past."
His game, based on angles and intelligence, not overwhelming athleticism, has aged well. The 1998 No. 1 overall pick is one of three players averaging at least 20 points and 10 rebounds this season, and ranks third in the league in double-doubles.
"He's as reliable as always," Ginobili said. "People are so used to seeing him that it doesn't surprise anybody. He's just being Tim Duncan. He's as big a part of this team as he's ever been."
As others tend to slow going into the All-Star break, Duncan appears re-energized.
"Not right now, not in the middle of the season," he chuckled. "I've played better and played more consistently, and if that's because of what I've done over the summer, more power to it."
Popovich trusts Duncan to coach himself. That practice spills over to Parker, Ginobili and several of the other vets, as well. In another game earlier this season, a frustrated Popovich turned the team over to the team. The Spurs coaching staff just stopped coaching.
The Spurs still won.
"Every once in a while it's a good thing to let the guys figure it out," Popovich said. "They've been playing this game a long time, and having them have that sort of ownership and partnership in what's going on I think makes them want to be here and work even harder."
At the root of that partnership is the relationship between Duncan and Popovich, one that can't be defined by the narrow titles of Player and Coach. There just isn't enough room there. After more than 11 seasons, the four championships and a lifetime of basketball memories, Duncan and Popovich understand each other like few in the profession ever do.
Duncan has earned the right to needle Popovich. And the street runs the other way.
"It's what makes our relationship go," Popovich said. "We really have a lot of fun doing that with each other because it's a long season. Without the humor, it's a real drag. I think you have to have humor on a team. You have to have people to break things up so it's not push, push, push all the time."
Pop and Timmy, as they say in South Texas, are truly sympatico. So in the middle of a game when the Spurs are "getting torched on defense," Duncan can reach across the huddle and the player-coach divide with a half-mocking introduction.
"He's a good enough coach that you can do that in the midst of things," Duncan said. "You can do that in the midst of practice and he knows that I'm still going to play hard. It's not going to change anything.
"To be able to accept it and react to it in a situation like that is a credit to him and all the guys here."
It starts with a laugh.
By Art Garcia, NBA.com
Posted Feb 13 2009 9:49AM
PHOENIX -- The timeout rant was vintage Gregg Popovich. The Spurs weren't doing something right, actually a lot wrong, and Coach Pop was letting them have it in the huddle.
"I was quite angry and animated," Popovich said. " 'Who are you guys? You guys have a coach? You guys go to practice? I don't recognize any of you guys.' In the middle of my harangue, he sticks out his hand and goes, 'I'm Tim Duncan.'
"He wanted me to meet him."
The ice wasn't just broken. Duncan smashed it with four syllables, turning the huddle into a high-school classroom. Unlike most teachers interrupted by the class clown, Popovich couldn't help but laugh. There would be no detention.
"It's that sort of sarcastic humor that is really endearing to all of his teammates," said Popovich, the only NBA coach Duncan has ever had.
The lighter side of Duncan is rarely seen and is appreciated even less. The boring label, as applied to Duncan and the entire Spurs franchise, is a cop-out in a world screaming for TMZ headlines. Most don't spend the time getting to know the Spurs and, frankly, the Spurs like it that way.
Popovich knows Duncan better than anyone. And he breaks into a smile when discussing the wit of his 11-time All-Star. If only others knew.
"I wish everyone could know what his humor is like," Popovich says.
Don't expect it to happen. Duncan has managed to keep his private side private out of design and circumstance. Though he's the biggest name in the Spurs locker room, a pair of international stars steal enough of the spotlight from No. 21.
Frenchman Tony Parker is half of a Hollywood "it" couple. Manu Ginobili is an Olympic hero in Argentina and an iconic rock star in mostly Hispanic San Antonio. Both have also earned their share of NBA accolades. Their combined celebrity help shield Duncan's introverted public persona, which is carefully protected by the Spurs' front office.
Whereas A-Rod can't hide from the cameras and notepads, Duncan slips in and out with ease and little interruption. The jokester lives within his carefully constructed cocoon.
"He doesn't [joke] with people he doesn't know," Ginobili said. "It's the same in the locker room. He's a great guy and he's open and he talks. He's not as shy and non-communicative as people think. What he shows is not what he really is. When he's in confidence, he's a different guy."
Spurs teammate Matt Bonner explained Duncan's gift for the cheap laugh as "observational humor. If something is funny, he'll notice it and bring it to your attention." One of Duncan's favorite targets is Bonner's ride, a 2006 Pontiac Grand Prix.
"I'm more of a smartass than anything," Duncan freely admits. "It comes naturally that way. It is a long season. Forty or 50 games into the season, it seems to get real long. Being serious every day makes the season even longer.
"We know when to be serious. We know when to joke around. You've got to keep it light so people will like being here."
Duncan and the Spurs find a balance. Their meticulous approach and attention to every detail, forged through the years under Popovich, is sewn into the fabric of the franchise. It doesn't happen by accident.
The Spurs work. Duncan's past offseason was as serious as a tire off an 18-wheeler. Spurs strength coach Mike Brungardt introduced the massive rubber objects in an exercise routine straight out of "Rocky."
"Every year Brungy brings out something new for us," Duncan said. "This year it was flipping 300-pound tires up and down the parking lot. It was a great full-body exercise. The first two, three times you do it, you're absolutely zapped. Your forearms are killing you. You can't do another thing for the rest of the day."
Duncan, 32, changed his eating habits over the summer. And he arrived at the Spurs complex in August, two months before the start of training camp, to begin working out in the oppressive Texas heat. He ran the team's 25-foot, 45-degree outdoor incline, dubbed John Lucas Hill, and sprinted in sand.
With four championships, three Finals MVPs, two MVPs and a certain place in the Hall of Fame, why go so hard? Surely Duncan would remain among the best in the league, if not the best power forward, even if he scaled his workouts back some. But he won't.
"Because he really loves to win and he realizes the responsibility he bears," Popovich said, "and he knows he's got to keep his body at a certain level all the time. That's what it's all about for him. That's why he's in the shape that he's in. He knows as he gets older he has to squeeze everything out of his body, like squeezing blood out of a rock."
Duncan's pragmatic side shows through.
"Getting older," the perennial All-Star starter said simply. "I'm just trying to drop some weight and some body fat. I wanted to get ready for a marathon season. I'm not as young as I used to be and I know my body is going to break down a little bit more than it did in the past."
His game, based on angles and intelligence, not overwhelming athleticism, has aged well. The 1998 No. 1 overall pick is one of three players averaging at least 20 points and 10 rebounds this season, and ranks third in the league in double-doubles.
"He's as reliable as always," Ginobili said. "People are so used to seeing him that it doesn't surprise anybody. He's just being Tim Duncan. He's as big a part of this team as he's ever been."
As others tend to slow going into the All-Star break, Duncan appears re-energized.
"Not right now, not in the middle of the season," he chuckled. "I've played better and played more consistently, and if that's because of what I've done over the summer, more power to it."
Popovich trusts Duncan to coach himself. That practice spills over to Parker, Ginobili and several of the other vets, as well. In another game earlier this season, a frustrated Popovich turned the team over to the team. The Spurs coaching staff just stopped coaching.
The Spurs still won.
"Every once in a while it's a good thing to let the guys figure it out," Popovich said. "They've been playing this game a long time, and having them have that sort of ownership and partnership in what's going on I think makes them want to be here and work even harder."
At the root of that partnership is the relationship between Duncan and Popovich, one that can't be defined by the narrow titles of Player and Coach. There just isn't enough room there. After more than 11 seasons, the four championships and a lifetime of basketball memories, Duncan and Popovich understand each other like few in the profession ever do.
Duncan has earned the right to needle Popovich. And the street runs the other way.
"It's what makes our relationship go," Popovich said. "We really have a lot of fun doing that with each other because it's a long season. Without the humor, it's a real drag. I think you have to have humor on a team. You have to have people to break things up so it's not push, push, push all the time."
Pop and Timmy, as they say in South Texas, are truly sympatico. So in the middle of a game when the Spurs are "getting torched on defense," Duncan can reach across the huddle and the player-coach divide with a half-mocking introduction.
"He's a good enough coach that you can do that in the midst of things," Duncan said. "You can do that in the midst of practice and he knows that I'm still going to play hard. It's not going to change anything.
"To be able to accept it and react to it in a situation like that is a credit to him and all the guys here."
It starts with a laugh.