Thanks for the memories Manu !
We were all so fortunate to watch him play the game of basketball.
Here's a story from the New Yorker:
Manu Ginóbili Played Basketball with Reckless Abandon and Perfect Control
By Vinson CunninghamAugust 28, 2018
Manu Ginóbili’s athleticism was predicated on creativity, on moments that defied conventional game-planning.Photograph by Kamil Krzaczynski / EFE / ZUMA Press
Manu Ginóbili, who retired on Monday from the N.B.A., after sixteen years as a member of the San Antonio Spurs, was the master of a paradoxical brand of excellence. When we call attention to the dominance of a basketball player, we usually mean that we can see, from the moment he or she touches the ball—and sometimes even before, as the player stands somewhere waiting to receive it—exactly what that player would like to achieve, and how the player will achieve it. He takes the route to the hoop that he’d always meant to take, or passes to the guy he knew would score, or pulls up to shoot from some preplanned and unconscionable distance, regardless of the hand obscuring his vision. From the beginning of his tenure with the Spurs, Ginóbili was different. He never seemed to step onto the court with a fully fleshed-out plan, or to have decided on a move—whether to shoot, to dribble, or to zing some oddball pass, fishy with English—until he was already partway through the motion that made it possible.
This penchant for constant, sometimes infuriating improvisation is the key to his legacy. And what a legacy: he is a four-time N.B.A. champion, almost certainly the best Argentine ever to play in the league; his admission to the Hall of Fame should be undisputed.* His influence is best encapsulated by the now-ubiquitous Euro step—which he didn’t technically invent, but which was adopted by players everywhere in large part because of the flair and ingenuity with which he executed the move. The Euro step is a simple elaboration of one of basketball’s most basic rules: after a player picks up his dribble, he’s allowed two steps before stopping to shoot or pass. But, as that forgotten first Euro stepper figured out, nobody said that those steps have to be taken in a single direction. So you now see players at every level gathering their dribble, jerking toward the center of the lane, baiting defenders to follow, and, then, with another hop, slipping back toward the baseline for an unimpeded layup. A zig and then a zag, which is nearly unstoppable if the zig is sufficiently convincing.
The Euro step is practically one of the game’s fundamentals now, the sort of thing taught at camps to seven-year olds. Sometimes, I’ve noticed, people do it for no real reason at all, when a quick move to one side of the hoop or the other would do just as well. But, in the mid-aughts, when Ginóbili was making the move famous, it appeared to rise out of strict necessity. He was a wild, bouncy presence back then, with long, black hair that traced a kind of wake as he ran; his legs, especially during his impossible forays toward the basket, would shoot him four or five feet forward at a time. So, with an opposing guard tied to his hip, he’d make a little gesture toward the baseline that would somehow leave him nearly out of bounds, then manage a half-balanced catapult in the opposite direction, toward the hoop. It was all contingency, an impromptu solution to a problem that had arisen in the heat of a moment. This is the main difference between Ginóbili and his most prominent descendant, James Harden, the league’s reigning M.V.P. Ginóbili’s offense was predicated on creativity, on moments that defied conventional game-planning, where Harden’s is machinelike, almost algorithmic, in its polish. This, I think, is why Ginóbili inspires cult-like love where Harden garners, let’s say, a more restrained admiration. Ginóbili’s game felt like a metaphor for adaptability.
There was also always the pleasurable tension between Ginóbili, an impulse follower, and the martial-seeming Gregg Popovich, who was the only coach Ginóbili ever had in the N.B.A. In some ways, each of the two men serves as proof of the other’s brilliance. Popovich could be operatic in his annoyance at Ginóbili’s decision-making, but, just as often, he would grin, or simply shake his head, when an ostensibly rash move yielded two or three unexpected, even undeserved, points. Ginóbili was famously willing to come off the bench throughout his career, and Popovich repaid him by leaving him in the game even if he chucked a series of questionable three-pointers or tossed one of his daring passes into the hands of a defender. And, for his part, Ginóbili was able to submit himself to Popovich’s strictures without losing the visionary current that made him more or less inimitable. The Spurs have been the most consistently excellent team of the early twenty-first century, and here was an illustration of what that excellence required, and, perhaps, what it means to play great basketball anywhere, at any time: wonderful plans, shot through with unpredictable inspiration.
Probably Ginóbili has been pondering, perhaps even planning, his retirement for a while now. The departures of his fellow leading men in San Antonio—first Tim Duncan, to retirement, and then Tony Parker, who, earlier this summer, departed for the Charlotte Hornets—provide an obvious occasion to head toward the exits. But I prefer to imagine that Ginóbili retired as he played: on a whim. Maybe he just woke up, gave it a thought, and picked up the phone, ready to surprise Popovich, and his teammates, one last time.
https://www.newyorker.com/news/sport...erfect-control
dat big 3...
FUUUCK
So, only the Coyote is left?
Oh man!!!
It just needs the Infinity War dust added in those 4 spots and it would be perfect.
Can you guys not see Patty , or is that the joke?
If I had to pick my favorite moment of Manu's career, it would be an early one. Namely, November 6th, 2003. We never really got to see the real Manu Ginobili his rookie season since he was battling injuries that started with ankle injury in the 2002 World Championships. By the time he started getting healthy it was way too late in the season for him to get the minutes and role his talent should have gotten him. But on 11/06/03 there was no other option with both Parker and Duncan hurt and a Lakers team that looked unreal in the early season when everyone was buying into their roles and sharing the ball. But god, Manu almost carried the Spurs to a win against that ridiculous team in an ugly and angry matchup that looked more like a playoff game than Game 5 of the regular season. That was the time everyone realized that he was for real, that Manu really was a franchise talent. I still love watching that clip of Kobe hiking up his shorts and staring Manu down like mother er I'm gonna D you up and Manu throws the ball right through his legs to get Robert Horry an easy layup.
To think the Spurs lost that game because of Jason Hart's 8-second call.
San Antonio's favorite son
That's when I knew he was going to be special. Lakers were the heavy le favorites after adding GP and Malone and Manu had them on the ropes with guys like Hart and that blonde Aussie (Heal?) seeing significant minutes. Seems like it was just yesterday.
I'll never be able to get behind DDR, LMA, Murray, and whoever else the way I did for the legendary big 3
I gotta disagree slightly -- Manu played an important role earlier in the June '03 le run.
The steal below was a critical play in clinching Game 6 vs. the Nets and a play I will always remember:
We knew he was special in the 03 le run, but this 2OT game against the Lakers was the first time you could see he was a just give him the ball and get the out of the way level player.
shane heal sighting
Whott was such a fan of his. Damn I miss that guy even though we agreed on almost nothing.
Favorite Manu memory #1: catching a wild bat with his bare hands
#2: Literally busting a nut (thanks Ryan Anderson) and still coming back to play with one ball
this was a low-stakes, meaningless regular season game from the crappy 2010 season, a game where manu only scored 14 points. nothing special in the box.
but for some reason is always one of the first games that comes to mind when i think of some great manu moments. the assists to RJ/McDyess/Blair were just something else.
Will never forget this moment.
Best part was Cancerny crying about it in postgame at his locker.
Man, this sucks ass tbh. Adios Argentine legend - thanks for your hard work, loyalty and commitment even when he who shall not be named ed out your last season.
Salute Manu.
PS: FCK Hater and The Gayest Yacht.
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