circles_eternal
03-12-2005, 06:09 PM
hope no one else has posted this yet...
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Suns-Spurs? It's a Freak Show
By Eric Neel
Shawn Marion is a freak.
I mean that in a good way.
I mean he has super powers, special gifts.
I mean, there's nobody quite like him and there's never been anybody quite like him.
What position does he play? You don't know. He's a shooting-off-swing-point-power-small-forward-guard-rover-finisher-guy. He's a matchup nightmare on both ends of the floor. He's Shawn Marion, is what he is. His position is irrelevant. His skills are what count.
He has a preternatural feel for rebounding. The man is 6-feet-7 and yanks 10.9 a night. That's fourth-best in basketball, right up there with Garnett, Duncan and Big Ben. But unlike those guys, he doesn't live in the lane or on the blocks, and he doesn't box out in the traditional way. He just goes and gets it; every board on the run and in the flow. It's as though he has some special sense for trajectories and velocities, as though he knows where balls are headed a half-beat before anyone else on the floor does.
He also has an uncanny ability to disrupt passing lanes. His Plastic Man arms and Spiderman grip are good for 2.13 spg. That, too, is fourth-best in the league, just behind Larry Hughes, AI and LeBron. But unlike those guys, he isn't defending anybody's ballhandling guard or working the first-pass perimeter. He's just hawking, lurking, moving to the ball as though he can't help himself, rotating on a backpedal like Lester Hayes, cutting off an angle like some long-armed Omar Vizquel.
Dennis Rodman had the first of these talents. Scottie Pippen had the second. Marion's got 'em both. In spades. Fourth in the league in both rebounds and steals? That's some freakiness right there, brothers and sisters.
And that'd be enough. He'd be valuable to the Suns, or to any team, if that ball-hawking thing were all he did. But it isn't.
He's also stupid fast for his size -- maybe the fastest player on the Suns -- and a tremendous finisher of whatever kind of fastbreakingness Steve Nash begins. And it isn't just speed; it's alacrity. He turns and goes with a happy hunger, fills lanes like water running down hill, as though there's no other way. And remember now, we're talking about his team's best (one of the league's best) rebounders. He's in two places at once: on the glass at one end and somehow also on the glass at the other. (Fifty-one percent of his shots come in the first 10 seconds of the shot clock, and 35 percent of his shots are dunks, tips and close-rangers.) I'm telling you, that's freaky. That just ain't right.
And that'd be enough. He'd be very valuable to the Suns if all he did was ball-hawk and finish. But he does more.
He shoots, too. He shoots .471 from the field, .425 on his jumpers and .343 from 3. It ain't a pretty shot -- picture Jamaal Wilkes with a torn rotator cuff -- but it's good for an adjusted average ([(PTS - FTM)/FGA]/2) of .514 and 19.2 points a game. Put that together with his rebounding and you have 37 double-doubles on the season (third-best in the NBA) so far. And the thing is, the Suns don't run anything for him. He isn't their first option. He doesn't have the ball in his hands often or for long; but still, because he's active, smart, long and patient, he gets nearly 16 shots a night, which is almost as many as Steve Francis, Dwyane Wade and Carmelo Anthony get as the main options for their teams, and almost as many as Kevin Garnett gets as the only option on his team.
I'm telling you all this and you're thinking, "Dang, this Shawn Marion is something. I need to watch this Shawn Marion cat tonight when the Suns play the Spurs." And that's true, you do. But don't get fixated. He isn't the only one.
Manu Ginobili, he's a freak, too.
The last time the Spurs played the Suns, Manu scored 48 on 16-for-22, including 5-for-7 from three. He also kicked in five rebounds and six assists. But it wasn't just the numbers; it was the way he racked them up. More to the point, it was every which way he racked them up.
He had a little shimmy-shimmy-coco-pop thing to clear space toward his left and a fadeaway baseline jumper. He had a quick spin to the right that ended up as a one-handed jam in traffic. He had a step back for 3. He scored on the run out ahead of the pack. He worked the pick and roll with TD to perfection. And he sported a variety of whip and curl passes to his teammates that left Suns defenders spinning and reaching. There wasn't anything he didn't do, and all of it was syncopated just the way it ought to be, sometimes a beat slow, but usually a beat or two faster than anyone on defense. And a whole lot of it felt fresh, like he was taking shots you'd never quite seen before.
It was one of those games where a player comes and slaps you upside the head like the epiphany he is. (Marion went for 37 and 15 that night, by the way.) Suddenly, you realize (in case you weren't paying attention back when he was making Athens his own personal fiefdom), this guy isn't just a terrific complementary player (though he is that), and he isn't just a spark plug (though he is that). He's also a stone-cold freak, a pure baller with skills for days.
It's easy to lose sight of Ginobili's game (even though he's an All-Star) because the Spurs are Duncan's team, from game plan to personality. Think Spurs and you think incredibly well-rehearsed, disciplined play. Think Spurs and you think tough defense on one end and high-percentage looks on the other. Manu is the oddball in all that, the joker in the deck. (To some extent, it's the same way with Marion, a rebounder/defender on a team that doesn't do a whole lot of either.) Gregg Popovich knows it -- he'll tell you about finding room to let Manu do his thing, and about letting go of him a bit, even if it means introducing a bit of noise into the finely tuned San Antonio system. Why will he do these things? Because it's worth it. Because he knows he has a special kind of freaky genius in Ginobili.
Like Marion, Manu seems almost magnetically attracted to the ball. His 1.65 spg are ninth-best in the NBA (and that's in just 30 minutes a night). He's a rebound (4.5) and assist (3.9) guy at ... again, what position is it with him? He seems to slide through a perimeter spectrum, but to say that is to ignore his effectiveness down the lane and on the baseline. Fifty-six percent of his shots are jumpers, but a full 40 percent, according to 82games.com, are in close. He uses the whole floor; and at times, that and the speed with which he does what he does have caused folks to call him "wild" or to say he's "too aggressive."
But the truth is, in addition to being just about the most inventive offensive player in the game (I'd put him on par with LeBron, in terms of tricks in his bag), Ginobili's also pretty efficient. He's not particularly strong or tall, but he finds space and gets shots off, good ones. He shoots .486 from the floor, with an adjusted average of .552 (eighth-best in the league) and a points-per-shot score (pts/fga) of 1.53, which is second only to Amare Stoudemire. Throw in his board work, assists and handle, and you have a guy with a PER (player efficiency rating) of 23.02, just a tick behind Kobe Bryant at 23.28.
The Kobe comparison sounds like a bit much, maybe, but I don't know that it is. If Manu were playing 12 to 15 more minutes a night and taking 10 more shots (for a team that needed that kind of production out of him), where would his numbers be? How bright would his star shine? I don't see any limit. To me, he looks pretty close to unstoppable, and on the upswing, too. (His numbers rose across the board from this year to last, without much of a bump in minutes played.)
We're not likely to see that scenario played out. Manu recently re-upped with the Spurs, and he's no doubt satisfied playing a key role for a team winning 60-odd and competing for titles every year. As he should be. But like Kobe, he's got the kind of talent that makes you wonder aloud about what he might do or become. And maybe even more than Kobe, in the little bits of flair he puts on display, those elements that seem full of soul more than pride, he makes it fun to think on.
You know what player he kind of reminds me of -- in spirit, anyway? The Iceman. Ice did more one-on-one, and was more spectacular, but he and Manu are brothers in their feel for creativity and fluidity.
Marion and Manu. These guys are the X-Men. They're superheroes on teams with superstars.
We're all talking about Nash and Stoudemire and Duncan and Parker, and D'Antoni on one bench and Pop on the other; and we should be. But the fortunes of the Suns and Spurs, tonight and throughout the playoffs, are going to have a whole lot to do with the freaks. Can you stop the freaks? Do you have an answer for the freaks? Will the freaks stay healthy?
This is what we ought to be watching as things heat up.
Well, this and whatever unique bit of brilliance they come up with next.
=============
then there was this awesome awesome picture of Manu that came with the article:
http://espn.starwave.com/media/insider/2005/0308/photo/g_ginobili_il.jpg
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Suns-Spurs? It's a Freak Show
By Eric Neel
Shawn Marion is a freak.
I mean that in a good way.
I mean he has super powers, special gifts.
I mean, there's nobody quite like him and there's never been anybody quite like him.
What position does he play? You don't know. He's a shooting-off-swing-point-power-small-forward-guard-rover-finisher-guy. He's a matchup nightmare on both ends of the floor. He's Shawn Marion, is what he is. His position is irrelevant. His skills are what count.
He has a preternatural feel for rebounding. The man is 6-feet-7 and yanks 10.9 a night. That's fourth-best in basketball, right up there with Garnett, Duncan and Big Ben. But unlike those guys, he doesn't live in the lane or on the blocks, and he doesn't box out in the traditional way. He just goes and gets it; every board on the run and in the flow. It's as though he has some special sense for trajectories and velocities, as though he knows where balls are headed a half-beat before anyone else on the floor does.
He also has an uncanny ability to disrupt passing lanes. His Plastic Man arms and Spiderman grip are good for 2.13 spg. That, too, is fourth-best in the league, just behind Larry Hughes, AI and LeBron. But unlike those guys, he isn't defending anybody's ballhandling guard or working the first-pass perimeter. He's just hawking, lurking, moving to the ball as though he can't help himself, rotating on a backpedal like Lester Hayes, cutting off an angle like some long-armed Omar Vizquel.
Dennis Rodman had the first of these talents. Scottie Pippen had the second. Marion's got 'em both. In spades. Fourth in the league in both rebounds and steals? That's some freakiness right there, brothers and sisters.
And that'd be enough. He'd be valuable to the Suns, or to any team, if that ball-hawking thing were all he did. But it isn't.
He's also stupid fast for his size -- maybe the fastest player on the Suns -- and a tremendous finisher of whatever kind of fastbreakingness Steve Nash begins. And it isn't just speed; it's alacrity. He turns and goes with a happy hunger, fills lanes like water running down hill, as though there's no other way. And remember now, we're talking about his team's best (one of the league's best) rebounders. He's in two places at once: on the glass at one end and somehow also on the glass at the other. (Fifty-one percent of his shots come in the first 10 seconds of the shot clock, and 35 percent of his shots are dunks, tips and close-rangers.) I'm telling you, that's freaky. That just ain't right.
And that'd be enough. He'd be very valuable to the Suns if all he did was ball-hawk and finish. But he does more.
He shoots, too. He shoots .471 from the field, .425 on his jumpers and .343 from 3. It ain't a pretty shot -- picture Jamaal Wilkes with a torn rotator cuff -- but it's good for an adjusted average ([(PTS - FTM)/FGA]/2) of .514 and 19.2 points a game. Put that together with his rebounding and you have 37 double-doubles on the season (third-best in the NBA) so far. And the thing is, the Suns don't run anything for him. He isn't their first option. He doesn't have the ball in his hands often or for long; but still, because he's active, smart, long and patient, he gets nearly 16 shots a night, which is almost as many as Steve Francis, Dwyane Wade and Carmelo Anthony get as the main options for their teams, and almost as many as Kevin Garnett gets as the only option on his team.
I'm telling you all this and you're thinking, "Dang, this Shawn Marion is something. I need to watch this Shawn Marion cat tonight when the Suns play the Spurs." And that's true, you do. But don't get fixated. He isn't the only one.
Manu Ginobili, he's a freak, too.
The last time the Spurs played the Suns, Manu scored 48 on 16-for-22, including 5-for-7 from three. He also kicked in five rebounds and six assists. But it wasn't just the numbers; it was the way he racked them up. More to the point, it was every which way he racked them up.
He had a little shimmy-shimmy-coco-pop thing to clear space toward his left and a fadeaway baseline jumper. He had a quick spin to the right that ended up as a one-handed jam in traffic. He had a step back for 3. He scored on the run out ahead of the pack. He worked the pick and roll with TD to perfection. And he sported a variety of whip and curl passes to his teammates that left Suns defenders spinning and reaching. There wasn't anything he didn't do, and all of it was syncopated just the way it ought to be, sometimes a beat slow, but usually a beat or two faster than anyone on defense. And a whole lot of it felt fresh, like he was taking shots you'd never quite seen before.
It was one of those games where a player comes and slaps you upside the head like the epiphany he is. (Marion went for 37 and 15 that night, by the way.) Suddenly, you realize (in case you weren't paying attention back when he was making Athens his own personal fiefdom), this guy isn't just a terrific complementary player (though he is that), and he isn't just a spark plug (though he is that). He's also a stone-cold freak, a pure baller with skills for days.
It's easy to lose sight of Ginobili's game (even though he's an All-Star) because the Spurs are Duncan's team, from game plan to personality. Think Spurs and you think incredibly well-rehearsed, disciplined play. Think Spurs and you think tough defense on one end and high-percentage looks on the other. Manu is the oddball in all that, the joker in the deck. (To some extent, it's the same way with Marion, a rebounder/defender on a team that doesn't do a whole lot of either.) Gregg Popovich knows it -- he'll tell you about finding room to let Manu do his thing, and about letting go of him a bit, even if it means introducing a bit of noise into the finely tuned San Antonio system. Why will he do these things? Because it's worth it. Because he knows he has a special kind of freaky genius in Ginobili.
Like Marion, Manu seems almost magnetically attracted to the ball. His 1.65 spg are ninth-best in the NBA (and that's in just 30 minutes a night). He's a rebound (4.5) and assist (3.9) guy at ... again, what position is it with him? He seems to slide through a perimeter spectrum, but to say that is to ignore his effectiveness down the lane and on the baseline. Fifty-six percent of his shots are jumpers, but a full 40 percent, according to 82games.com, are in close. He uses the whole floor; and at times, that and the speed with which he does what he does have caused folks to call him "wild" or to say he's "too aggressive."
But the truth is, in addition to being just about the most inventive offensive player in the game (I'd put him on par with LeBron, in terms of tricks in his bag), Ginobili's also pretty efficient. He's not particularly strong or tall, but he finds space and gets shots off, good ones. He shoots .486 from the floor, with an adjusted average of .552 (eighth-best in the league) and a points-per-shot score (pts/fga) of 1.53, which is second only to Amare Stoudemire. Throw in his board work, assists and handle, and you have a guy with a PER (player efficiency rating) of 23.02, just a tick behind Kobe Bryant at 23.28.
The Kobe comparison sounds like a bit much, maybe, but I don't know that it is. If Manu were playing 12 to 15 more minutes a night and taking 10 more shots (for a team that needed that kind of production out of him), where would his numbers be? How bright would his star shine? I don't see any limit. To me, he looks pretty close to unstoppable, and on the upswing, too. (His numbers rose across the board from this year to last, without much of a bump in minutes played.)
We're not likely to see that scenario played out. Manu recently re-upped with the Spurs, and he's no doubt satisfied playing a key role for a team winning 60-odd and competing for titles every year. As he should be. But like Kobe, he's got the kind of talent that makes you wonder aloud about what he might do or become. And maybe even more than Kobe, in the little bits of flair he puts on display, those elements that seem full of soul more than pride, he makes it fun to think on.
You know what player he kind of reminds me of -- in spirit, anyway? The Iceman. Ice did more one-on-one, and was more spectacular, but he and Manu are brothers in their feel for creativity and fluidity.
Marion and Manu. These guys are the X-Men. They're superheroes on teams with superstars.
We're all talking about Nash and Stoudemire and Duncan and Parker, and D'Antoni on one bench and Pop on the other; and we should be. But the fortunes of the Suns and Spurs, tonight and throughout the playoffs, are going to have a whole lot to do with the freaks. Can you stop the freaks? Do you have an answer for the freaks? Will the freaks stay healthy?
This is what we ought to be watching as things heat up.
Well, this and whatever unique bit of brilliance they come up with next.
=============
then there was this awesome awesome picture of Manu that came with the article:
http://espn.starwave.com/media/insider/2005/0308/photo/g_ginobili_il.jpg
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