Jimcs50
06-25-2005, 07:47 AM
June 24, 2005, 10:55PM
Spurs whistle while they work, and the results show
By MICKEY HERSKOWITZ
Copyright 2005 Houston Chronicle
In the native language of Tony Parker, the French member of San Antonio's foreign legion, "Laissez les bon temps rouler" — let the good times roll.
For the Spurs, the times have been rolling, rolling, rolling for most of the last seven years, and Friday the fans were still dancing in the streets, celebrating their third NBA championship in that span. The mariachis were swinging, the margaritas were chilling, the River Walk was overflowing.
So what are we to make of these Spurs, this series, these teams? One has to be careful when chasing a concept as big and elusive as truth. In sports, this is like talking about the occult. But Gregg Popovich may have been nothing but truthful when he said, "I don't know how we did it. I'm just glad we did."
The Spurs surprised us because we thought they had lost their mojo after romping to victories in the first two games of the NBA Finals. In losing twice at Detroit, then winning, then losing, they seemed hesitant and edgy at their worst and methodical at their best.
Did you see the look in Tim Duncan's eyes when he clanked a follow shot off the iron that would have won Game 5 in regulation? He was, what, six inches from the basket? As he left the court, he raised his fists to his eyes, as if he could hide behind them.
It was a misplay by the Spurs' best player, and teams don't come back from that kind of pratfall. Except that San Antonio did, on Robert Horry's 3-pointer in the final six seconds of overtime.
And darned if they didn't give us an encore in Game 7, falling nine points behind in the third quarter, when the teams were scoring so infrequently that nine points looked like Mount Everest.
But the Spurs took it to the Pistons with the kind of resolve you didn't know they had. We should have, but they are a deceptive bunch. Duncan won't let you see what is behind those eyes, those fists. We should have guessed what the outcome would be when Duncan hit his free throws.
You reflect that it must be wonderful to be part of a team that can curse the officials in several languages. Except that these are not your usual NBA bullies or circus acts. They are — dare we say it? — sportsmen, and you find it hard to imagine one of them uttering a profanity.
Not that we would understand if they did it in, say, their native tongues. This title was unique because it was the first won by a team that included two players from Slovenia and one each from Argentina and France. Duncan didn't exactly arrive here holding a green card, but he spent the early months of his life in the U.S. Virgin Islands, and speaks fluent English, when he speaks at all.
You could find a splendid moral in San Antonio's triumph, if you needed one. If this mix of performers can get along, why can't the rest of us?
There was a tender moment when Popovich yanked Parker out of the game, after the point guard came out of the locker room with an adrenaline overload and threw up two wild shots. After a minute or two, Popovich asked Parker if he was all right. Tony said, "Oui," and the coach reminded him to calm down by giving him two noogies on the head. :lol
Is San Antonio worthy of the glory and adulation that goes with the trophy? Of course. The Spurs beat the defending champions, the next-best team in the league. Larry Brown is a terrific coach, and the Wallaces — Rasheed and Ben — hold back nothing. Nor can you appreciate the skills of Chauncey Billups just from reading the box score.
It gave the finals a touch of class to have a player called Chauncey, a name you usually find in the British Parliament.
Yes, the series seemed elevated because the opposing players were so respectful, and Popovich once coached for Brown. It was as if one of them felt like apologizing when his team won.
And I am trying to recall the last time I saw an athlete play as joyously as Manu Ginobili, smiling, laughing, screaming, waving his arms to stoke the crowd. The Spurs all have familiar faces. Manu resembles the actor Andy Garcia, and Robert Horry is a dead ringer for Will Smith. Tim Duncan looks exactly like Tony Parker's taller, smarter, older brother.
Four years ago, the Spurs were the oldest team in the league. Now Duncan, at 29, is their most-seasoned starter. This is a team that reinvented itself.
Bonjour, Spurs. You earned it.
[email protected]
Spurs whistle while they work, and the results show
By MICKEY HERSKOWITZ
Copyright 2005 Houston Chronicle
In the native language of Tony Parker, the French member of San Antonio's foreign legion, "Laissez les bon temps rouler" — let the good times roll.
For the Spurs, the times have been rolling, rolling, rolling for most of the last seven years, and Friday the fans were still dancing in the streets, celebrating their third NBA championship in that span. The mariachis were swinging, the margaritas were chilling, the River Walk was overflowing.
So what are we to make of these Spurs, this series, these teams? One has to be careful when chasing a concept as big and elusive as truth. In sports, this is like talking about the occult. But Gregg Popovich may have been nothing but truthful when he said, "I don't know how we did it. I'm just glad we did."
The Spurs surprised us because we thought they had lost their mojo after romping to victories in the first two games of the NBA Finals. In losing twice at Detroit, then winning, then losing, they seemed hesitant and edgy at their worst and methodical at their best.
Did you see the look in Tim Duncan's eyes when he clanked a follow shot off the iron that would have won Game 5 in regulation? He was, what, six inches from the basket? As he left the court, he raised his fists to his eyes, as if he could hide behind them.
It was a misplay by the Spurs' best player, and teams don't come back from that kind of pratfall. Except that San Antonio did, on Robert Horry's 3-pointer in the final six seconds of overtime.
And darned if they didn't give us an encore in Game 7, falling nine points behind in the third quarter, when the teams were scoring so infrequently that nine points looked like Mount Everest.
But the Spurs took it to the Pistons with the kind of resolve you didn't know they had. We should have, but they are a deceptive bunch. Duncan won't let you see what is behind those eyes, those fists. We should have guessed what the outcome would be when Duncan hit his free throws.
You reflect that it must be wonderful to be part of a team that can curse the officials in several languages. Except that these are not your usual NBA bullies or circus acts. They are — dare we say it? — sportsmen, and you find it hard to imagine one of them uttering a profanity.
Not that we would understand if they did it in, say, their native tongues. This title was unique because it was the first won by a team that included two players from Slovenia and one each from Argentina and France. Duncan didn't exactly arrive here holding a green card, but he spent the early months of his life in the U.S. Virgin Islands, and speaks fluent English, when he speaks at all.
You could find a splendid moral in San Antonio's triumph, if you needed one. If this mix of performers can get along, why can't the rest of us?
There was a tender moment when Popovich yanked Parker out of the game, after the point guard came out of the locker room with an adrenaline overload and threw up two wild shots. After a minute or two, Popovich asked Parker if he was all right. Tony said, "Oui," and the coach reminded him to calm down by giving him two noogies on the head. :lol
Is San Antonio worthy of the glory and adulation that goes with the trophy? Of course. The Spurs beat the defending champions, the next-best team in the league. Larry Brown is a terrific coach, and the Wallaces — Rasheed and Ben — hold back nothing. Nor can you appreciate the skills of Chauncey Billups just from reading the box score.
It gave the finals a touch of class to have a player called Chauncey, a name you usually find in the British Parliament.
Yes, the series seemed elevated because the opposing players were so respectful, and Popovich once coached for Brown. It was as if one of them felt like apologizing when his team won.
And I am trying to recall the last time I saw an athlete play as joyously as Manu Ginobili, smiling, laughing, screaming, waving his arms to stoke the crowd. The Spurs all have familiar faces. Manu resembles the actor Andy Garcia, and Robert Horry is a dead ringer for Will Smith. Tim Duncan looks exactly like Tony Parker's taller, smarter, older brother.
Four years ago, the Spurs were the oldest team in the league. Now Duncan, at 29, is their most-seasoned starter. This is a team that reinvented itself.
Bonjour, Spurs. You earned it.
[email protected]