duncan228
10-30-2007, 01:04 PM
I don't think this has been posted.
With all the Duncan articles flying around it's getting hard to keep up!
A good problem to have. :spin
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2007/writers/steve_aschburner/10/30/duncan.kareem/index.html
Steve Aschburner
Familiar ring
Duncan, like Kareem, could become ageless wonder
Seven current members of the San Antonio Spurs already have been there, done that, feeling that rush of emotions that comes with an NBA player's first championship ring. Three more -- Ime Udoka, Ian Mahinmi and Darius Washington -- haven't been anywhere or done anything yet in Spurs terms, so they'll be curious bystanders Tuesday night at the AT&T Center during the traditional opening-night ceremony before the defending champs face the Portland Trail Blazers in a nationally televised game.
As for the fortunate five -- Matt Bonner, Francisco Elson, Michael Finley, Fabricio Oberto and Jacque Vaughn -- well, they ought to do something special, if not right there on the court for the cameras and the crowd, then later, in private, before the evening ends. They ought to go up to the man most responsible for those rings and say:
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Without Duncan, those five guys wouldn't be in position to have the pride, the joy, the satisfaction and the humility of championship recognition wash over them. Without Duncan, frankly (if our math is ballpark enough), they and at least 31 other Spurs players across the past eight years might not have received their first, second or third championship rings, and San Antonio likely would not be Texas' reigning title town. Remember, this is a city that was best known for putting the "L" in Alamo, at least before the tall swimmer from the Virgin Islands showed up.
Duncan, of course, has been around for all four of the Spurs' NBA championships. He is the only player able to make that claim on a roster that has turned over the equivalent of three times since he, David Robinson, Avery Johnson, Sean Elliott and Malik Rose beat the New York Knicks in five games in June 1999. And when he accepts ring No. 4 on Tuesday, Duncan will join an even more exclusive group of elite players who won championships eight or more years apart.
It's a very short list if you limit the discussion to a) All-Star-caliber performers and b) non-Boston Celtics. That sets aside someone like Robert Horry, a postseason specialist on seven NBA champions, for three franchises, in 15 years. With the utmost respect, it subtracts from the discussion Bill Russell (11 rings from 1957 through 1969), Sam Jones (10, 1959-1969), John Havlicek (eight, 1963-1976) and Tom Heinsohn (eight, 1957-1965). It even "asterisks'' a couple of part-career Celtics: Bill Walton, who won his two NBA rings nine years apart (1977 and 1986), and Robert Parish, who earned his first in 1981 with Boston and his last as a bit player for Chicago in 1997.
Who's left? Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen spread their six Bulls championships across eight years. Magic Johnson won his first in 1980 and his last in 1988, a span of nine seasons, same as Slater Martin (1950-1958). Dennis Rodman won five in 10 years, starting with Detroit in 1989 and ending with Chicago in 1998. Then there's Duncan with four in nine.
That leaves one more: Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the man who best combined quality, quantity and longevity into his Hall of Fame career. At age 24, Abdul-Jabbar won an NBA title with the Milwaukee Bucks in 1971. He didn't win his second until nine years later with Johnson and the Los Angeles Lakers. But from 1980 through 1988, age 33 to 41, the 7-foot-2 pride of New York's Power Memorial High racked up five, giving him a spread of 18 years from his first ring to his sixth and last.
No one is suggesting that spreading out championships is more impressive than grabbing three in a row or even a repeat, which Duncan's teams never have done. It's just different impressive, a testament to a star player's durability, reliability and excellence across several "generations'' of NBA ebbs and flows. The Spurs won their first back when Indiana, New York, Portland and Atlanta were strong teams, with Utah built around Karl Malone and John Stockton. They won their most recent since rebirths in Dallas, Golden State, Cleveland and Chicago, and Utah driven these days by Carlos Boozer and Deron Williams. Throughout, Duncan's club never has won fewer than 53 games (it was on pace for 61 in its 37-13 lockout year).
Abdul-Jabbar's greatness bracketed most of the NBA's all-time best. His first ring came while Wilt Chamberlain, Jerry West, Willis Reed, Walt Frazier, Nate Thurmond, Nate Archibald, Earl Monroe and Pete Maravich were active. His last came against the likes of Jordan, Malone, Stockton, Patrick Ewing, Larry Bird, Charles Barkley, Isiah Thomas, Hakeem Olajuwon and Moses Malone.
Duncan's arc might eventually rival that. He began his career making all-NBA teams alongside Jordan, Robinson, Gary Payton, Reggie Miller and Grant Hill. Lately, he's been making them with LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Carmelo Anthony and Yao Ming.
Starting his 11th pro season, Duncan is virtually unchanged in appearance and production from his old-millennium self. Besides a bottle of whatever Dick Clark chugged hidden away somewhere, he has an agreement on a new two-year, $40 million contract extension that will take him through 2011-12, a desire to play "as long as I can,'' a supporting cast (Tony Parker, Manu Ginobili, coach Gregg Popovich) capable of contending for years and at least one comparison to -- there it is again -- a certain ageless wonder.
"Duncan reminds me a lot of Kareem,'' Miami coach Pat Riley told reporters last week. "Kareem wasn't a physical center, he was a finesse center. And he played until he was 41 years old.''
Riley coached Abdul-Jabbar with the Lakers for seven seasons and sees in Duncan the same sort of efficiency and economy of motion. So does Wayne Embry, the longtime NBA executive who played with Russell, banged with Chamberlain, worked with Abdul-Jabbar and, nowadays, marvels at the Spurs' big man.
"He makes it look so effortless,'' Embry, a senior advisor to the Toronto Raptors, said of Duncan. "It's not, but that's how it looks. He's elusive. He's quicker than people think. He's always in tip-top condition. He does it all without a lot of fanfare. He's substance over style.''
Like Abdul-Jabbar, whose sky hook was the most unstoppable offensive weapon in league history, Duncan's bank shots are remarkably consistent and, oddly, rarely copied by other big men. Duncan doesn't have much of a public personality, either, another trait he shares with Abdul-Jabbar (though Duncan's has more to do with privacy and a small market rather than aloofness).
But the people who need to, know who Duncan is. Already, he is written all over this NBA season. What is Boston's ballyhooed acquisition of Kevin Garnett, after all, if not a make-up move for the Celtics missing out on Duncan in the 1997 draft? Veteran referee Joey Crawford, for all his cantankerousness, only got in hot soup with commissioner David Stern when he tangled with Duncan. And while 29.6 percent of the league's general managers predict James will win the 2008 Most Valuable Player award, and 59.3 percent told an NBA.com poll they would take the Cavs' star as the cornerstone of a new franchise, 48.1 percent chose Duncan as the game's best power forward.
Another 48.1 percent, curiously, chose him as the NBA's top center.
Which simply means that 96.2 percent of the league's GMs consider Tim Duncan to be the NBA's best something. And makes you wonder what the other 3.8 percent were thinking.
With all the Duncan articles flying around it's getting hard to keep up!
A good problem to have. :spin
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2007/writers/steve_aschburner/10/30/duncan.kareem/index.html
Steve Aschburner
Familiar ring
Duncan, like Kareem, could become ageless wonder
Seven current members of the San Antonio Spurs already have been there, done that, feeling that rush of emotions that comes with an NBA player's first championship ring. Three more -- Ime Udoka, Ian Mahinmi and Darius Washington -- haven't been anywhere or done anything yet in Spurs terms, so they'll be curious bystanders Tuesday night at the AT&T Center during the traditional opening-night ceremony before the defending champs face the Portland Trail Blazers in a nationally televised game.
As for the fortunate five -- Matt Bonner, Francisco Elson, Michael Finley, Fabricio Oberto and Jacque Vaughn -- well, they ought to do something special, if not right there on the court for the cameras and the crowd, then later, in private, before the evening ends. They ought to go up to the man most responsible for those rings and say:
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Thank you, Tim Duncan.
Without Duncan, those five guys wouldn't be in position to have the pride, the joy, the satisfaction and the humility of championship recognition wash over them. Without Duncan, frankly (if our math is ballpark enough), they and at least 31 other Spurs players across the past eight years might not have received their first, second or third championship rings, and San Antonio likely would not be Texas' reigning title town. Remember, this is a city that was best known for putting the "L" in Alamo, at least before the tall swimmer from the Virgin Islands showed up.
Duncan, of course, has been around for all four of the Spurs' NBA championships. He is the only player able to make that claim on a roster that has turned over the equivalent of three times since he, David Robinson, Avery Johnson, Sean Elliott and Malik Rose beat the New York Knicks in five games in June 1999. And when he accepts ring No. 4 on Tuesday, Duncan will join an even more exclusive group of elite players who won championships eight or more years apart.
It's a very short list if you limit the discussion to a) All-Star-caliber performers and b) non-Boston Celtics. That sets aside someone like Robert Horry, a postseason specialist on seven NBA champions, for three franchises, in 15 years. With the utmost respect, it subtracts from the discussion Bill Russell (11 rings from 1957 through 1969), Sam Jones (10, 1959-1969), John Havlicek (eight, 1963-1976) and Tom Heinsohn (eight, 1957-1965). It even "asterisks'' a couple of part-career Celtics: Bill Walton, who won his two NBA rings nine years apart (1977 and 1986), and Robert Parish, who earned his first in 1981 with Boston and his last as a bit player for Chicago in 1997.
Who's left? Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen spread their six Bulls championships across eight years. Magic Johnson won his first in 1980 and his last in 1988, a span of nine seasons, same as Slater Martin (1950-1958). Dennis Rodman won five in 10 years, starting with Detroit in 1989 and ending with Chicago in 1998. Then there's Duncan with four in nine.
That leaves one more: Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the man who best combined quality, quantity and longevity into his Hall of Fame career. At age 24, Abdul-Jabbar won an NBA title with the Milwaukee Bucks in 1971. He didn't win his second until nine years later with Johnson and the Los Angeles Lakers. But from 1980 through 1988, age 33 to 41, the 7-foot-2 pride of New York's Power Memorial High racked up five, giving him a spread of 18 years from his first ring to his sixth and last.
No one is suggesting that spreading out championships is more impressive than grabbing three in a row or even a repeat, which Duncan's teams never have done. It's just different impressive, a testament to a star player's durability, reliability and excellence across several "generations'' of NBA ebbs and flows. The Spurs won their first back when Indiana, New York, Portland and Atlanta were strong teams, with Utah built around Karl Malone and John Stockton. They won their most recent since rebirths in Dallas, Golden State, Cleveland and Chicago, and Utah driven these days by Carlos Boozer and Deron Williams. Throughout, Duncan's club never has won fewer than 53 games (it was on pace for 61 in its 37-13 lockout year).
Abdul-Jabbar's greatness bracketed most of the NBA's all-time best. His first ring came while Wilt Chamberlain, Jerry West, Willis Reed, Walt Frazier, Nate Thurmond, Nate Archibald, Earl Monroe and Pete Maravich were active. His last came against the likes of Jordan, Malone, Stockton, Patrick Ewing, Larry Bird, Charles Barkley, Isiah Thomas, Hakeem Olajuwon and Moses Malone.
Duncan's arc might eventually rival that. He began his career making all-NBA teams alongside Jordan, Robinson, Gary Payton, Reggie Miller and Grant Hill. Lately, he's been making them with LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Carmelo Anthony and Yao Ming.
Starting his 11th pro season, Duncan is virtually unchanged in appearance and production from his old-millennium self. Besides a bottle of whatever Dick Clark chugged hidden away somewhere, he has an agreement on a new two-year, $40 million contract extension that will take him through 2011-12, a desire to play "as long as I can,'' a supporting cast (Tony Parker, Manu Ginobili, coach Gregg Popovich) capable of contending for years and at least one comparison to -- there it is again -- a certain ageless wonder.
"Duncan reminds me a lot of Kareem,'' Miami coach Pat Riley told reporters last week. "Kareem wasn't a physical center, he was a finesse center. And he played until he was 41 years old.''
Riley coached Abdul-Jabbar with the Lakers for seven seasons and sees in Duncan the same sort of efficiency and economy of motion. So does Wayne Embry, the longtime NBA executive who played with Russell, banged with Chamberlain, worked with Abdul-Jabbar and, nowadays, marvels at the Spurs' big man.
"He makes it look so effortless,'' Embry, a senior advisor to the Toronto Raptors, said of Duncan. "It's not, but that's how it looks. He's elusive. He's quicker than people think. He's always in tip-top condition. He does it all without a lot of fanfare. He's substance over style.''
Like Abdul-Jabbar, whose sky hook was the most unstoppable offensive weapon in league history, Duncan's bank shots are remarkably consistent and, oddly, rarely copied by other big men. Duncan doesn't have much of a public personality, either, another trait he shares with Abdul-Jabbar (though Duncan's has more to do with privacy and a small market rather than aloofness).
But the people who need to, know who Duncan is. Already, he is written all over this NBA season. What is Boston's ballyhooed acquisition of Kevin Garnett, after all, if not a make-up move for the Celtics missing out on Duncan in the 1997 draft? Veteran referee Joey Crawford, for all his cantankerousness, only got in hot soup with commissioner David Stern when he tangled with Duncan. And while 29.6 percent of the league's general managers predict James will win the 2008 Most Valuable Player award, and 59.3 percent told an NBA.com poll they would take the Cavs' star as the cornerstone of a new franchise, 48.1 percent chose Duncan as the game's best power forward.
Another 48.1 percent, curiously, chose him as the NBA's top center.
Which simply means that 96.2 percent of the league's GMs consider Tim Duncan to be the NBA's best something. And makes you wonder what the other 3.8 percent were thinking.