spursupporter
06-26-2005, 05:27 AM
Tim Duncan's Legacy: Never In Doubt
By Nick Prevenas
6/24/05
Michael Jordan, Shaquille O'Neal, Magic Johnson, and Tim Duncan. What do these four men have in common? They are the only players in NBA history to win three Finals MVP awards. :spin
Does this mean people will FINALLY get off Duncan's back? Does this mean people will FINALLY start to appreciate one of the truly special players in the league? One can only hope.
Duncan's Game Seven performance rates as one of my favorite "Shove It!" performances in NBA history. After eight appearances on the All-NBA First Team, two regular season MVP awards, two Finals MVP awards, and eight appearances on the All-NBA Defensive Team, certain media types had the audacity to say that this game would decide Duncan's legacy forever, as if poor performance would somehow devalue what he's accomplished thus far.
That's not to say that Duncan was lights-out during this series against the Pistons. Far from it. This was a brutal battle of wills that lasted for two weeks. Duncan suffered through some nerve-wracking valleys before achieving this dizzying peak. I'd be lying if I said I was 100% confident in Duncan throughout this series.
For the purposes of this discussion, let's pretend that games one thru four never happened. I'm one of the NBA's staunchest supporters, but even that stretch tested my seemingly interminable patience. Besides, those games proved to be all but useless.
The Finals were a best-of-three series, beginning with Game Five. This is where the chinks in Duncan's armor became minor gashes. Had it not been for Robert Horry making another last-minute addition to his ESPN Classic compilation tape, that game would've been remembered for Duncan hitting the exact same spot on the front of the rim on seven of his eleven free throws, as well as him short-arming the potential winning follow-up at the end of regulation.
(As for Horry's performance, that's an entire column unto itself. The importance of his fourth quarter/OT performance cannot be overstated. When I think about this series, Horry's lefty slam and dagger 3-pointer will be the first two images that pop in my head. Game Five was one of my favorite playoff games in years. I would argue that Horry should've won the MVP over Duncan, because without his Game Five outburst, the Pistons are the champs and the basketball landscape would have a completely different feel. And no, I haven't been taking Bill Walton's hyperbole pills.)
With Game Five belonging to Horry, everyone was expecting Duncan to bounce back and rip the collective hearts out of the Pistons. Typically, teams don't bounce back from a game like Game Five, especially when they have to go on the road to save their season. But the Detroit Pistons thrive on these scenarios. They won a remarkable Game Six, forever refuting the absurd assertion that their title last season was some kind of fluke. Make no mistake, these Pistons are a GREAT team.
As for Duncan, the rumblings about his allegedly suspect crunch-time nerves had turned into front-page headlines. Duncan's free-throw issues had taken on a life of their own. Remember when Chuck Knoblauch forgot how to throw to first base when he was with the New York Yankees? Duncan's free-throw woes were sadly heading in that direction.
But could there possibly be another explanation for his alleged struggles in this Pistons series? Keep in mind, the man has been playing the entire post-season on two badly sprained ankles, neither of which had the time to heal properly. For something as routine-driven as free-throw shooting, having two bad ankles throwing off one's balance can make for some erratic nights at the line.
Also, having to face the Wallace boys and Antonio McDyess for seven games would take a toll on anyone. One could make the argument that the Detroit Pistons are the greatest defensive team in NBA history. If they're not the all-time best, they're at least in the discussion. Duncan never had an inferior defensive player (or even a mediocre one) guarding him at any moment during the Finals.
Certain media types conveniently overlooked these details and proceeded to rip Duncan to shreds. How about giving the Pistons a little credit? How about looking at Duncan's overall production (26 and 19 in Game Five, 21 and 15 in Game Six) in those supposedly awful performances? How about looking at his track record? Did people forget that this was the man who demolished the New Jersey Nets in the 2003 Finals with a 21/20/10/8 performance that belongs on the shortlist of great NBA Finals stat-lines?
Still, doubt surrounded Duncan going into Game Seven. Could he overcome his Knoblauchian tendencies at the free-throw line? Could his ravaged ankles handle the stress? Could he throw his team on his back and add to an already impressive legacy?
Yes, yes, and yes.
But, since his opponents were the Pistons, it wasn't going to be easy. During a stretch in the second quarter that carried over to the third quarter, Duncan didn't score a point for nearly 14 minutes. Even though Detroit's front line was suffering through foul trouble the entire game (thanks to Dick Bavetta's over-active whistle), the Pistons were contesting every shot and making Duncan's life on the offensive end miserable.
Then, with six minutes remaining in the third quarter, Duncan turned into an assassin. The banker started to fall. The free-throws were edging over the front of the rim and through the hoop. He continued to ferociously hit the glass, hoping his teammates would follow his example. The crowd shifted from, "Nervously cheering Duncan, hoping he pulls it together" to, "Exploding every time their superstar made a key play."
Now that Duncan's shot was falling, the Pistons were forced to double down on him. Here's where he went to work. He proceeded to pick apart the best defense in the league with a patented "Tim Duncan Bigman Clinic." Taking a page out of the Bill Walton play book, he made every correct pass and his teammates hit every huge 3-pointer. During that ten-minute stretch where the Spurs began putting away the Pistons, Duncan had seemingly ascended to a higher plane of basketball. He was seeing plays happen before they actually began happening. Even the harshest Duncan critic had to appreciate what was happening.
I think we can safely say this was one of the best 10-for-27 performances any of us will ever see.
After the game had been decided and the floor had been littered with confetti, you could see the relief spelled out on Duncan's face as he accepted the Finals MVP trophy from David Stern. If he were a more vindictive person, he would've lashed out against all of his doubters. But since Duncan is the consummate professional, he treated the moment with proper respect, as if he had been there before. And, as if he'll be there again.
True greatness is measured by how a player reacts to adversity. Jordan's flu game, Willis Reed hobbling out of the tunnel, Isiah scoring 25 on one foot, McHale gritting it out through the 1987 playoffs with ravaged everything, and Magic's 42 point effort filling in for Kareem are the prime examples. While I definitely wouldn't mention Duncan's Game Seven in the same breath as any of those games, it must be said that Duncan has proved that it takes more than a few missed free throws and some silly comments by panicky media members to rattle him.
He's one of the greats. But we already knew that.
By Nick Prevenas
6/24/05
Michael Jordan, Shaquille O'Neal, Magic Johnson, and Tim Duncan. What do these four men have in common? They are the only players in NBA history to win three Finals MVP awards. :spin
Does this mean people will FINALLY get off Duncan's back? Does this mean people will FINALLY start to appreciate one of the truly special players in the league? One can only hope.
Duncan's Game Seven performance rates as one of my favorite "Shove It!" performances in NBA history. After eight appearances on the All-NBA First Team, two regular season MVP awards, two Finals MVP awards, and eight appearances on the All-NBA Defensive Team, certain media types had the audacity to say that this game would decide Duncan's legacy forever, as if poor performance would somehow devalue what he's accomplished thus far.
That's not to say that Duncan was lights-out during this series against the Pistons. Far from it. This was a brutal battle of wills that lasted for two weeks. Duncan suffered through some nerve-wracking valleys before achieving this dizzying peak. I'd be lying if I said I was 100% confident in Duncan throughout this series.
For the purposes of this discussion, let's pretend that games one thru four never happened. I'm one of the NBA's staunchest supporters, but even that stretch tested my seemingly interminable patience. Besides, those games proved to be all but useless.
The Finals were a best-of-three series, beginning with Game Five. This is where the chinks in Duncan's armor became minor gashes. Had it not been for Robert Horry making another last-minute addition to his ESPN Classic compilation tape, that game would've been remembered for Duncan hitting the exact same spot on the front of the rim on seven of his eleven free throws, as well as him short-arming the potential winning follow-up at the end of regulation.
(As for Horry's performance, that's an entire column unto itself. The importance of his fourth quarter/OT performance cannot be overstated. When I think about this series, Horry's lefty slam and dagger 3-pointer will be the first two images that pop in my head. Game Five was one of my favorite playoff games in years. I would argue that Horry should've won the MVP over Duncan, because without his Game Five outburst, the Pistons are the champs and the basketball landscape would have a completely different feel. And no, I haven't been taking Bill Walton's hyperbole pills.)
With Game Five belonging to Horry, everyone was expecting Duncan to bounce back and rip the collective hearts out of the Pistons. Typically, teams don't bounce back from a game like Game Five, especially when they have to go on the road to save their season. But the Detroit Pistons thrive on these scenarios. They won a remarkable Game Six, forever refuting the absurd assertion that their title last season was some kind of fluke. Make no mistake, these Pistons are a GREAT team.
As for Duncan, the rumblings about his allegedly suspect crunch-time nerves had turned into front-page headlines. Duncan's free-throw issues had taken on a life of their own. Remember when Chuck Knoblauch forgot how to throw to first base when he was with the New York Yankees? Duncan's free-throw woes were sadly heading in that direction.
But could there possibly be another explanation for his alleged struggles in this Pistons series? Keep in mind, the man has been playing the entire post-season on two badly sprained ankles, neither of which had the time to heal properly. For something as routine-driven as free-throw shooting, having two bad ankles throwing off one's balance can make for some erratic nights at the line.
Also, having to face the Wallace boys and Antonio McDyess for seven games would take a toll on anyone. One could make the argument that the Detroit Pistons are the greatest defensive team in NBA history. If they're not the all-time best, they're at least in the discussion. Duncan never had an inferior defensive player (or even a mediocre one) guarding him at any moment during the Finals.
Certain media types conveniently overlooked these details and proceeded to rip Duncan to shreds. How about giving the Pistons a little credit? How about looking at Duncan's overall production (26 and 19 in Game Five, 21 and 15 in Game Six) in those supposedly awful performances? How about looking at his track record? Did people forget that this was the man who demolished the New Jersey Nets in the 2003 Finals with a 21/20/10/8 performance that belongs on the shortlist of great NBA Finals stat-lines?
Still, doubt surrounded Duncan going into Game Seven. Could he overcome his Knoblauchian tendencies at the free-throw line? Could his ravaged ankles handle the stress? Could he throw his team on his back and add to an already impressive legacy?
Yes, yes, and yes.
But, since his opponents were the Pistons, it wasn't going to be easy. During a stretch in the second quarter that carried over to the third quarter, Duncan didn't score a point for nearly 14 minutes. Even though Detroit's front line was suffering through foul trouble the entire game (thanks to Dick Bavetta's over-active whistle), the Pistons were contesting every shot and making Duncan's life on the offensive end miserable.
Then, with six minutes remaining in the third quarter, Duncan turned into an assassin. The banker started to fall. The free-throws were edging over the front of the rim and through the hoop. He continued to ferociously hit the glass, hoping his teammates would follow his example. The crowd shifted from, "Nervously cheering Duncan, hoping he pulls it together" to, "Exploding every time their superstar made a key play."
Now that Duncan's shot was falling, the Pistons were forced to double down on him. Here's where he went to work. He proceeded to pick apart the best defense in the league with a patented "Tim Duncan Bigman Clinic." Taking a page out of the Bill Walton play book, he made every correct pass and his teammates hit every huge 3-pointer. During that ten-minute stretch where the Spurs began putting away the Pistons, Duncan had seemingly ascended to a higher plane of basketball. He was seeing plays happen before they actually began happening. Even the harshest Duncan critic had to appreciate what was happening.
I think we can safely say this was one of the best 10-for-27 performances any of us will ever see.
After the game had been decided and the floor had been littered with confetti, you could see the relief spelled out on Duncan's face as he accepted the Finals MVP trophy from David Stern. If he were a more vindictive person, he would've lashed out against all of his doubters. But since Duncan is the consummate professional, he treated the moment with proper respect, as if he had been there before. And, as if he'll be there again.
True greatness is measured by how a player reacts to adversity. Jordan's flu game, Willis Reed hobbling out of the tunnel, Isiah scoring 25 on one foot, McHale gritting it out through the 1987 playoffs with ravaged everything, and Magic's 42 point effort filling in for Kareem are the prime examples. While I definitely wouldn't mention Duncan's Game Seven in the same breath as any of those games, it must be said that Duncan has proved that it takes more than a few missed free throws and some silly comments by panicky media members to rattle him.
He's one of the greats. But we already knew that.