Kori Ellis
11-21-2004, 03:24 AM
Buck Harvey: Anti-Spur, pro-war: How Jackson ignited a rumble
Web Posted: 11/21/2004 12:00 AM CST
San Antonio Express-News
http://www.mysanantonio.com/sports/basketball/nba/spurs/stories/MYSA112104.1C.COL.BKNharvey.785f13e4.html
Stephen Jackson was always ready for war.
Ready for war for his friends. For loyalty. And for causes not always clear to those around him.
Sometimes he'd snap if an opposing player had words with Tim Duncan. Sometimes he'd snap simply because he'd been taken out of a game.
That's a reason he called himself the Anti-Spur during the Spurs' 2003 championship run. Somebody on the team had to have some street in him, right?
Friday night confirmed that Jackson wasn't just posturing. He went into the Detroit stands as no one should — taking Ron Artest further than maybe even he wanted to go — and something else was confirmed.
Jackson shouldn't be on a team with other Anti-Spurs.
Others will sermonize on the details. Detroit security is at fault, as is beer. The refs weren't decisive enough to diffuse the situation, and Ben Wallace created it. When Wallace shoved Artest at the end of a frustrating night for the Pistons, he fueled similar frustration in his fans.
Wallace was wrong to retaliate, but he had motivation. The Pacers had the game locked up with less than a minute left when Artest gave Wallace a hard foul. A push from someone else would have been forgotten, but from Artest it had significance.
Wallace reacted badly, though not unlike how the Celtics' Paul Pierce reacted Friday against the Spurs. Pierce knew he'd already been beaten, too, when he fouled Duncan with a shove to the back and Tony Parker with a blow to the neck.
Duncan and Parker responded as they do. They went to the free-throw line for points.
Wallace instead went after Artest, and Jackson then gave a sign of things to come. He pulled his jersey out of his shorts and circled the crowd. He was ready for war, all right.
Some say Artest showed restraint by walking away. He could also have been showing some intelligence, given Wallace's muscles.
Then Artest chose to relax by lying on top of the scorer's table. Again, was it restraint, or was he mocking the Pistons? Artest grabbed a headset from the Pacers' broadcast team and took a pose that was at best comical.
He didn't deserve the fluid that flowed from the stands, but he sure made a good target. And when Artest went into the stands, everyone in San Antonio saw the contrast: Would one of the current Spurs even consider the same?
According to those there, Artest unknowingly sped past the one who had thrown his drink and confronted someone else. The fan crumpled backward, and Artest reportedly asked, "Did you do it? Did you do it?"
The fan said, "No, man, no!"
Had a reasonable teammate then grabbed Artest and pulled him back to the court, the incident might have ended there. No punches had been thrown. But that's when Jackson wildly entered the stands behind Artest, bringing with him both the street and his sense of loyalty.
Everything that followed — including astonishing swings from both Artest and Jermaine O'Neal at the face of the same fan — can be tied to Jackson's escalation.
The Spurs always knew Jackson was capable of this, but they worked on the other side. His loyalty can be endearing, and his energy had a knack for boiling into something positive. His 3-point aim did, too; his shooting clinched three of the four playoff series in 2003.
Still, the Spurs understood what was always beneath the surface. When they tried to re-sign Jackson after the championship, they offered a four-year deal in which they would have had the option on the fourth year. The Pacers gave Jackson a full six years just last summer. The Spurs' package would have been about $10 million, far less than the $37 million the Pacers gave Jackson.
Also, had the Spurs signed Jackson, they would have done so with one caveat. They felt it was tolerable to have one Anti-Spur. But just one. If they put him in a locker room filled with professionals — with Duncan befriending him and coaches counseling him — Jackson could survive and even star.
Now he's with Artest, a mean-spirited Rodman with a screw so loose it doesn't have threads left. He's with O'Neal, reckless enough to throw a sucker punch that had the potential to do what Kermit Washington once did to Rudy Tomjanovich. And he's with Jamaal Tinsley, who thought it would be clever to re-enter the arena floor brandishing a janitorial weapon.
That meant Jackson isn't the Anti-Spur anymore. He's on a team of them. The Pacers accumulated this volatile mix, with one player heightening the worst impulses of another, until Friday happened.
Then, they were ready for war.
Web Posted: 11/21/2004 12:00 AM CST
San Antonio Express-News
http://www.mysanantonio.com/sports/basketball/nba/spurs/stories/MYSA112104.1C.COL.BKNharvey.785f13e4.html
Stephen Jackson was always ready for war.
Ready for war for his friends. For loyalty. And for causes not always clear to those around him.
Sometimes he'd snap if an opposing player had words with Tim Duncan. Sometimes he'd snap simply because he'd been taken out of a game.
That's a reason he called himself the Anti-Spur during the Spurs' 2003 championship run. Somebody on the team had to have some street in him, right?
Friday night confirmed that Jackson wasn't just posturing. He went into the Detroit stands as no one should — taking Ron Artest further than maybe even he wanted to go — and something else was confirmed.
Jackson shouldn't be on a team with other Anti-Spurs.
Others will sermonize on the details. Detroit security is at fault, as is beer. The refs weren't decisive enough to diffuse the situation, and Ben Wallace created it. When Wallace shoved Artest at the end of a frustrating night for the Pistons, he fueled similar frustration in his fans.
Wallace was wrong to retaliate, but he had motivation. The Pacers had the game locked up with less than a minute left when Artest gave Wallace a hard foul. A push from someone else would have been forgotten, but from Artest it had significance.
Wallace reacted badly, though not unlike how the Celtics' Paul Pierce reacted Friday against the Spurs. Pierce knew he'd already been beaten, too, when he fouled Duncan with a shove to the back and Tony Parker with a blow to the neck.
Duncan and Parker responded as they do. They went to the free-throw line for points.
Wallace instead went after Artest, and Jackson then gave a sign of things to come. He pulled his jersey out of his shorts and circled the crowd. He was ready for war, all right.
Some say Artest showed restraint by walking away. He could also have been showing some intelligence, given Wallace's muscles.
Then Artest chose to relax by lying on top of the scorer's table. Again, was it restraint, or was he mocking the Pistons? Artest grabbed a headset from the Pacers' broadcast team and took a pose that was at best comical.
He didn't deserve the fluid that flowed from the stands, but he sure made a good target. And when Artest went into the stands, everyone in San Antonio saw the contrast: Would one of the current Spurs even consider the same?
According to those there, Artest unknowingly sped past the one who had thrown his drink and confronted someone else. The fan crumpled backward, and Artest reportedly asked, "Did you do it? Did you do it?"
The fan said, "No, man, no!"
Had a reasonable teammate then grabbed Artest and pulled him back to the court, the incident might have ended there. No punches had been thrown. But that's when Jackson wildly entered the stands behind Artest, bringing with him both the street and his sense of loyalty.
Everything that followed — including astonishing swings from both Artest and Jermaine O'Neal at the face of the same fan — can be tied to Jackson's escalation.
The Spurs always knew Jackson was capable of this, but they worked on the other side. His loyalty can be endearing, and his energy had a knack for boiling into something positive. His 3-point aim did, too; his shooting clinched three of the four playoff series in 2003.
Still, the Spurs understood what was always beneath the surface. When they tried to re-sign Jackson after the championship, they offered a four-year deal in which they would have had the option on the fourth year. The Pacers gave Jackson a full six years just last summer. The Spurs' package would have been about $10 million, far less than the $37 million the Pacers gave Jackson.
Also, had the Spurs signed Jackson, they would have done so with one caveat. They felt it was tolerable to have one Anti-Spur. But just one. If they put him in a locker room filled with professionals — with Duncan befriending him and coaches counseling him — Jackson could survive and even star.
Now he's with Artest, a mean-spirited Rodman with a screw so loose it doesn't have threads left. He's with O'Neal, reckless enough to throw a sucker punch that had the potential to do what Kermit Washington once did to Rudy Tomjanovich. And he's with Jamaal Tinsley, who thought it would be clever to re-enter the arena floor brandishing a janitorial weapon.
That meant Jackson isn't the Anti-Spur anymore. He's on a team of them. The Pacers accumulated this volatile mix, with one player heightening the worst impulses of another, until Friday happened.
Then, they were ready for war.