Sweetwater Red
05-22-2008, 12:10 PM
:stirpot: :evillol: :stirpot:
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2008/writers/steve_aschburner/05/20/spurs/index.html
Them again.
The San Antonio Spurs again.
Are we having fun yet?
Other teams win preliminary-round playoff series, but the Spurs simply advance, methodically, relentlessly and even predictably, with the conviction that their way is the best way, seemingly the only way.
With a defense that changes games more effectively (but far less sexily) than most teams' offenses, the Spurs are stomping toward their fifth championship in a decade. For the fourth time in the past six years, they have made it to the Western Conference championship series, and their record in the first three -- the three won with the current core of Tim Duncan, Manu Ginobili and Tony Parker -- is a breezy 12-4. The Spurs rarely lose conference finals and never lose NBA Finals, dominating this part of the calendar the way Santa controls December and the IRS owns half of April.
In terms of excitement, enjoyment and entertainment, though, they are a lot closer to the latter than the former. San Antonio is the Green Bay power sweep in a league that sells Air Coryell. It is Tiger Woods minus the nickname and half again as corporate. It is Gandhi pushing aside E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, Tootsie and The Verdict as Best Picture, a film to be admired more than a movie to munch popcorn to. Not great for DVD sales, either, to watch again and again because, with the Spurs, seeing one of their championships feels like seeing them all.
But wait, there's more: The Spurs lately have mixed some unlikability into their formula. In their pursuit of excellence, they have the smell of the New England Patriots, sans camcorder, about them. No stone unturned, no element left to chance, no rule unbent right up to the point of breaking. They let Stu Jackson and David Stern sort it all out in the league office, while taking a "If you don't get a ticket, then you weren't speeding" approach.
For years, Bruce Bowen was San Antonio's lightning rod, a "defensive specialist'' to those rooting for him and his team but a knobby-kneed kickboxer to those rooting or playing against them. Bowen's knack for kicking, tripping, stepping on or otherwise clandestinely punishing the other guys' best players has been his brand, you might say, since he joined the Spurs seven years ago. Celtics guard Ray Allen, who might face Bowen's crafty/clumsy pestering again if Boston and San Antonio both advance, called that brand dirty -- "coward's basketball'' -- after a 2006 game in which Bowen kicked him in the back.
More recently, it has been Robert Horry, "Big Shot Bob'' getting a makeover in late career from some critics as "Cheap Shot Bob'' after his second shady incident in two postseasons. In 2007, he hip-checked Phoenix's Steve Nash into the scorer's table, sparking an emotional sequence that earned the Suns' Amaré Stoudemire and Boris Diaw one-game suspensions and might have lost the second-round series for their team. This time, in Game 6 against New Orleans, there was Horry forcefully bracing himself into David West's back, leaving the Hornets' power forward writhing face-down on the court after the hit aggravated the pinched nerve in West's back.
"It was a regular back-pick,'' Horry said a day later, in an explanation that would have been more credible if he hadn't claimed to know nothing of West's aching back prior to their collision; the Spurs prepare too thoroughly for their opponents for anyone to believe that.
Besides, it wasn't the impact itself -- West played more than 46 minutes in Game 7 on Monday, scoring 20 points with nine rebounds -- as much as the image at that moment: There the Spurs go again, doing whatever it takes to get whatever they want, imposing their will and their way oppressively on one of the league's happier stories of this season, the precocious Hornets and a franchise's rebirth in New Orleans.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2008/writers/steve_aschburner/05/20/spurs/index.html
Them again.
The San Antonio Spurs again.
Are we having fun yet?
Other teams win preliminary-round playoff series, but the Spurs simply advance, methodically, relentlessly and even predictably, with the conviction that their way is the best way, seemingly the only way.
With a defense that changes games more effectively (but far less sexily) than most teams' offenses, the Spurs are stomping toward their fifth championship in a decade. For the fourth time in the past six years, they have made it to the Western Conference championship series, and their record in the first three -- the three won with the current core of Tim Duncan, Manu Ginobili and Tony Parker -- is a breezy 12-4. The Spurs rarely lose conference finals and never lose NBA Finals, dominating this part of the calendar the way Santa controls December and the IRS owns half of April.
In terms of excitement, enjoyment and entertainment, though, they are a lot closer to the latter than the former. San Antonio is the Green Bay power sweep in a league that sells Air Coryell. It is Tiger Woods minus the nickname and half again as corporate. It is Gandhi pushing aside E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, Tootsie and The Verdict as Best Picture, a film to be admired more than a movie to munch popcorn to. Not great for DVD sales, either, to watch again and again because, with the Spurs, seeing one of their championships feels like seeing them all.
But wait, there's more: The Spurs lately have mixed some unlikability into their formula. In their pursuit of excellence, they have the smell of the New England Patriots, sans camcorder, about them. No stone unturned, no element left to chance, no rule unbent right up to the point of breaking. They let Stu Jackson and David Stern sort it all out in the league office, while taking a "If you don't get a ticket, then you weren't speeding" approach.
For years, Bruce Bowen was San Antonio's lightning rod, a "defensive specialist'' to those rooting for him and his team but a knobby-kneed kickboxer to those rooting or playing against them. Bowen's knack for kicking, tripping, stepping on or otherwise clandestinely punishing the other guys' best players has been his brand, you might say, since he joined the Spurs seven years ago. Celtics guard Ray Allen, who might face Bowen's crafty/clumsy pestering again if Boston and San Antonio both advance, called that brand dirty -- "coward's basketball'' -- after a 2006 game in which Bowen kicked him in the back.
More recently, it has been Robert Horry, "Big Shot Bob'' getting a makeover in late career from some critics as "Cheap Shot Bob'' after his second shady incident in two postseasons. In 2007, he hip-checked Phoenix's Steve Nash into the scorer's table, sparking an emotional sequence that earned the Suns' Amaré Stoudemire and Boris Diaw one-game suspensions and might have lost the second-round series for their team. This time, in Game 6 against New Orleans, there was Horry forcefully bracing himself into David West's back, leaving the Hornets' power forward writhing face-down on the court after the hit aggravated the pinched nerve in West's back.
"It was a regular back-pick,'' Horry said a day later, in an explanation that would have been more credible if he hadn't claimed to know nothing of West's aching back prior to their collision; the Spurs prepare too thoroughly for their opponents for anyone to believe that.
Besides, it wasn't the impact itself -- West played more than 46 minutes in Game 7 on Monday, scoring 20 points with nine rebounds -- as much as the image at that moment: There the Spurs go again, doing whatever it takes to get whatever they want, imposing their will and their way oppressively on one of the league's happier stories of this season, the precocious Hornets and a franchise's rebirth in New Orleans.