duncan228
05-18-2008, 11:10 PM
http://www.mysanantonio.com/sports/basketball/nba/spurs/stories/MYSA051908.1D.COL.BKNharvey.spurs.37bbd6b.html
Buck Harvey: On schedule, Duncan gets another redo
NEW ORLEANS — If they ever build a statue of Tim Duncan outside of the AT&T Center, they should take their time.
They should draw up some concepts, sculpt a few ideas and then step back to look for cracks. There should be a few.
Then they should build more statues, turning the worst into rubble as they go along, until they get it right.
Duncan should be honored the way he played. The best player of the best franchise of this era has required some trial and error to become who he is, and sometimes the error part has been startling for such a Hall of Fame player. He hasn't always figured out everything the first time, and that's where tonight comes in.
After playing three games in New Orleans that rank among his worst, after playing at times like a statue, he comes back with reason to think he's ready.
It's his schedule, after all.
His schedule didn't concur with the Olympics, with unfamiliar refs, rules and teammates. And nothing was the same in college, either. His Wake Forest never made a Final Four.
That's no disgrace. Chris Paul's Wake never made one, either. But Duncan was in school for four years, not two as Paul was, and in Duncan's last three years he was college basketball's best player.
Every March, however, he ran into an NCAA format with short games and one-and-done madness. Duncan isn't built for an 11 a.m. tip in Provo, especially given only five fouls to burn. That's a reason the same Duncan who has lost one of the first two playoffs games of every NBA championship run went back to class early.
Duncan proved to be a quick study in the pros. Whereas it took Hakeem Olajuwon about half of his career to learn how to pass out of double teams, for example, Duncan got it down by his second season.
He would become an MVP quickly enough, too. But when met with tough playoff tests, such as the Shaq-Kobe Lakers, Duncan needed time. He needed the arrival of Tony Parker and Manu Ginobili, too.
The 2005 Finals against the Pistons offers the best analogy. Against a sturdy Detroit defense, with a Wallace for every angle, Duncan suffered.
Duncan missed 6 of 7 free throws and a tip at the end of regulation in Game 5 in Detroit. After failing to score in overtime, after the Spurs still won, Duncan hugged Robert Horry harder than anyone; Horry had saved him.
Then Duncan barely touched the ball in the fourth quarter of a Game 6 loss in San Antonio, and the media theme then was about the odd glitch inside of this superstar.
“Spurs' big star now more like Tiny Tim,” a headline from a Chicago newspaper read then before that Game 7. The story went on to say, “It has been unsettling, if not spooky, to see an immovable rock of sport reduced to a soft, unassertive disappearing act.”
Duncan can get this way, and he was in New Orleans in the first three games. He was 12 of 38. He wasn't invisible, getting 23 rebounds in one game, and there were excuses, with both a virus and Joey Crawford inside of his head. But the superstar of the previous decade seemingly always overcame such details.
Didn't Michael Jordan overcome mere human sickness? Did he ever let a referee get to him? The statue of Jordan outside of the United Center was probably done in one try, too.
But Duncan, as gifted as he is, never had anything close to Jordan's athletic ability. Duncan couldn't leap past obstacles. He needed all the data. He needed to see what was happening and why, and that came together in Game 7 against Detroit.
A soft, unassertive disappearing act became the Finals MVP.
That's Duncan, and this plays into what Gregg Popovich has said this series. The better team wins in a seven-game series.
Over two weeks, there is no Final Four fluke. There is time to find the creases in the defense, to move over to defend David West, to even overcome three routs in New Orleans.
As for the statue.
They should build one no matter what happens tonight.
Buck Harvey: On schedule, Duncan gets another redo
NEW ORLEANS — If they ever build a statue of Tim Duncan outside of the AT&T Center, they should take their time.
They should draw up some concepts, sculpt a few ideas and then step back to look for cracks. There should be a few.
Then they should build more statues, turning the worst into rubble as they go along, until they get it right.
Duncan should be honored the way he played. The best player of the best franchise of this era has required some trial and error to become who he is, and sometimes the error part has been startling for such a Hall of Fame player. He hasn't always figured out everything the first time, and that's where tonight comes in.
After playing three games in New Orleans that rank among his worst, after playing at times like a statue, he comes back with reason to think he's ready.
It's his schedule, after all.
His schedule didn't concur with the Olympics, with unfamiliar refs, rules and teammates. And nothing was the same in college, either. His Wake Forest never made a Final Four.
That's no disgrace. Chris Paul's Wake never made one, either. But Duncan was in school for four years, not two as Paul was, and in Duncan's last three years he was college basketball's best player.
Every March, however, he ran into an NCAA format with short games and one-and-done madness. Duncan isn't built for an 11 a.m. tip in Provo, especially given only five fouls to burn. That's a reason the same Duncan who has lost one of the first two playoffs games of every NBA championship run went back to class early.
Duncan proved to be a quick study in the pros. Whereas it took Hakeem Olajuwon about half of his career to learn how to pass out of double teams, for example, Duncan got it down by his second season.
He would become an MVP quickly enough, too. But when met with tough playoff tests, such as the Shaq-Kobe Lakers, Duncan needed time. He needed the arrival of Tony Parker and Manu Ginobili, too.
The 2005 Finals against the Pistons offers the best analogy. Against a sturdy Detroit defense, with a Wallace for every angle, Duncan suffered.
Duncan missed 6 of 7 free throws and a tip at the end of regulation in Game 5 in Detroit. After failing to score in overtime, after the Spurs still won, Duncan hugged Robert Horry harder than anyone; Horry had saved him.
Then Duncan barely touched the ball in the fourth quarter of a Game 6 loss in San Antonio, and the media theme then was about the odd glitch inside of this superstar.
“Spurs' big star now more like Tiny Tim,” a headline from a Chicago newspaper read then before that Game 7. The story went on to say, “It has been unsettling, if not spooky, to see an immovable rock of sport reduced to a soft, unassertive disappearing act.”
Duncan can get this way, and he was in New Orleans in the first three games. He was 12 of 38. He wasn't invisible, getting 23 rebounds in one game, and there were excuses, with both a virus and Joey Crawford inside of his head. But the superstar of the previous decade seemingly always overcame such details.
Didn't Michael Jordan overcome mere human sickness? Did he ever let a referee get to him? The statue of Jordan outside of the United Center was probably done in one try, too.
But Duncan, as gifted as he is, never had anything close to Jordan's athletic ability. Duncan couldn't leap past obstacles. He needed all the data. He needed to see what was happening and why, and that came together in Game 7 against Detroit.
A soft, unassertive disappearing act became the Finals MVP.
That's Duncan, and this plays into what Gregg Popovich has said this series. The better team wins in a seven-game series.
Over two weeks, there is no Final Four fluke. There is time to find the creases in the defense, to move over to defend David West, to even overcome three routs in New Orleans.
As for the statue.
They should build one no matter what happens tonight.