NBA Blog

Alright, I’m getting ready to boil over.  I haven’t posted anything in quite some time.  Last week was spring break, and seeing as I have not done any work this semester, I’ve been having to bust my tail for the past few days to catch up.  Not good times.

I thought last night would be my release.  The Spurs were in Indianapolis last night, which is about an hour and a half from the ‘Ville. (PLAYING TONIGHT FOR A SHOT AT THE ELITE EIGHT!  CHECK IT OUT ON CBS!  AMERICA’S MOST WATCHED NETWORK!)  My girlfriend and I took a nice little road-trip to watch my boys play.  Considering they had laid eggs in their last two games, I thought last night would be their wake up call.  Besides, the Spurs NEVER lose when I’m in the house.  I’ve got the Midas touch. 

            Well, they came out dead, and played that way for an entire game.  It did not help that Devin Brown is hurt now.  In the NYC he was the only guy with any energy.  So what did Pop do to replace him, he activated Dion Glover.  Of course, my girlfriend had no idea who he was.  So I told her that he was a pretty darn good shooter from outside the arc, and he might help us out since no one else is playing.  Well, Dion comes in, gets two fouls, and then AIRBALLS his first three point attempt.  Needless to say I won’t be joining the Dion Glover fan club anytime soon.  The Spurs should have activated Romain Sato in Brown’s place.  He’s an active 6’4” combo guard with SICK, SICK, SICK athleticism.  He hustles and is all over the court.  You’re telling me that wouldn’t help this team right now.  They are flat-out dull right now.  There was no life.

Speaking of being dead.  Rasho looked, well, um, typical for Rasho.  I know I’ve said this before, but it’s never good when my sister-in-law looks at you and says that you’re on the Shawn Bradley starter-kit.  Rasho is fulfilling that prophecy nicely.  And then Nazr came out and did his best Rasho impersonation.  I mean, my goodness.  The two 7’1” guys combined for FIVE STINKING REBOUNDS.  Jeff Foster, native San Antonian and product of Madison High School, had 14 on his own.  He nearly tripled their output.  Bruce Bowen led the team in rebounds, and he only had 6!

Of course, my boys still managed to make a push at the end and close it to 9, thanks to the efforts of Brent Barry and Beno Udrih.  So what happens?  You guessed it, Sean Marks heaves, and I mean HEAVES, a 25-footer with 1:44 left in the game and watches it sail out of bounds.  That my friends was when the rather obtuse lady behind me started belting out the sweet sounds of “Nah, Nah, Nah, Nah…Nah, Nah, Nah, Nah…Hey, Hey, Hey, GOODBYYYYYYE!!!!”  (Not really, the arena was already empty at this point, and I don’t even know if the Indy fans knew a game was going on anyway.  More on this in a minute.)

I was begging for Malik last night.  I was practically crying to the heavens for the return of my cousin.  His energy is desperately needed right now.  I know, at the time I thought the trade might work out, and it still may, but when Duncan is out there is no better replacement than Malik.  His energy is infectious, and provides the necessary boost when the star of the league is out.  Remember last year against Dallas when Duncan got poked in the eye and sat out the entire second half?  Well I do.  Malik went for a career-high that night.  Everything was falling for him, and the Spurs pulled it out in the end thanks to the mighty Rose.  Nazr may work out, but judging by the Spurs track record, trades with New York NEVER work out.  Two words: Charles Smith. 

A few notes on Indy.  Conseco is amazing.  It is without a doubt the nicest arena in the NBA.  To bad it is wasted on such a bad city.  Indy fans flat out suck.  There was absolutely no energy in the arena for the entire game.  So what if your team has underachieved for the season because of all the injuries.  The Pacers were killing the Spurs last night.  The Spurs have one of the top three teams in the league. 

Reggie Miller scores his 25,000 career point and all he got was like a 10-second standing ovation.  What is up with that?  That’s ridiculous.  The man has been the franchise for his entire career.  He’s to Indy what the Admiral was, and still is, to San Antonio.  Every single time Robinson set a new mark, the city of S.A. shut down to give him a 5-minute standing o.  Rediculous. 

Their fans had no idea what was going on.  One kid asked his dad where Tim Duncan was, and the dad replied, “Uh, he doesn’t play for San Antonio anymore.”  The fans behind us didn’t even know who Stephen Jackson was.  They thought he was a rookie.  Some other genius chimed in and said that the Pacers got him at the beginning of the year in a trade with the Hawks for TRAVIS BEST.  Yeah, that Travis Best, the same guy who hasn’t been on their roster since 2001.  I mean, I could understand if this was a team that had not won in like 5 years, i.e. the Hawks.  But this is a team that has won over 50 games for the last two seasons.  They’ve been in the playoffs for like six years in a row.  The Basketball Jesus coached them to the finals in 2000-2001.

Absolutely no one gave me grief for being decked out in Spurs gear last night.  I’m in their house sporting the Spurs shooting shirt, the hat, and standing up for every big bucket.  (Okay, so I only got to stand up like once.  But still.)  And no one threw it in my face that the Spurs lost to a team without Jermaine O’Neal, Ron Artest, Jamal Tinsley, Jonathan Bender, David Harrison, and Freddie Jones.  Then again, the fans probably don’t even know who those guys are anyway. 

The date was May 31, 1999.  We were there, and we saw the greatest shot in Spurs history.  My dad convinced my mom to purchase playoff tickets, and we watched every game of that postseason.  We watched as the Spurs held off K.G. and the Wolves.  We sat in joy as the Spurs swept the pre-Phil Jackson Lakers. 

Then came those dreaded Portland Trailblazers.  Now, I despise the Lakers as much as any other Spurs fan, but up to this point in the Spurs playoff history, no team had sent us home with our tails down more than the Blazers.  Clyde, T.P., Kersey, Buck Williams, and Clifford Robinson had caused more heartbreak to my youth than any other group of people. 

            This Portland team came in as the new Blazer guard.  But there was still the same fear of what may come.  This Blazers team had been put together to win a title.  They compiled a list of talent that was unmatched by any other team in the league.  Jimmy Jackson was still averaging over 17 points per game.  Steve Smith still had legs.  Stacy Augmon was as plastic as he ever was.  Damon Stoudamire wasn’t letting the hedges affect his game.  Rasheed was still young, and capable of going for 25 plus a night.  In fact, he did against the Spurs in that series.  Greg Anthony was probably the best backup point guard in the league.  Brian Grant did not even have the dreads yet.  I mean these guys were young and tough. 

            Game 2 was ugly.  The Spurs got dominated.  We watched as the Spurs were going to waste away the best regular season in history, and give up home court advantage.  In the first 36 minutes no Spur was playing well, except for Sean.  The Ninja had been lights out all game.  Elie couldn’t find the rim.  Timmy and Dave were battling with Rasheed and Grant, and were pretty much canceling each other out. 

            The Blazers were hot, and stretched the lead to 18 points.  My dad, already burned by the Spurs postseason collapses in the past, had given up hope.  If he were any other person, and not stuck with me at the game, he would have been on his way home halfway through the fourth quarter.  I kept ragging him for being so pessimistic.  I was 19 at the time, but was as idealistic as an 8-year-old at his first game.  I kept telling my dad that there was no way the Spurs were going to lose.  It HAD to be their year.

            Sure enough, the Spurs started chipping away at the lead.  Now a Spur, Jerome Kersey hit a few jumpers.  Elie started getting in players’ faces.  Robinson and Duncan were shutting Rasheed down on the defensive end.  And the Ninja kept raining threes from the corner. 

Sure enough the Spurs were down by five with about 1:30 left in the game.  The Alamodome was shaking.  30,000+ people were dancing and screaming.  33 seconds later Sean dropped his fifth three of the game.  He had not missed one yet.  He was unconscious.  Down by two, the Spurs got the ball back on two missed Portland free throws, and called a timeout.  I was screaming, “I told you so!” in my dad’s ear.

            Mario Elie took the ball out at half-court on the curtain-side of the ‘Dome.  Steve Kerr came in to play the dreaded “cover this shooter even if he hasn’t played today, because he never misses” role.  Dave filled the middle of the lane.  The ref handed Elie the ball, and Sean ran over the top of Dave’s screen and headed for the corner.  Elie threw what could possibly be the worst quality inbounds pass of all time.  Elie had to get the ball over Jimmy Jackson, but as he did, the ball faded away from Elliott in the corner.  Stacy Augmon went for the steal, just missing, and headed into the stands.  Sean stretched for the ball, hugging the sideline.  As he caught the pass, his momentum was pulling him out of bounds.  With a pivot of the left foot, Sean hugged the line, the toes of his left foot on the ground, and the right foot hovering out of bounds.  As if he had all the time in the world, Sean took a dribble and gathered himself.  However, Sean had traveled so far, his heels were above the out-of-bounds line.  Meanwhile, Rasheed was closing out on Sean at a frantic pace.  As he had done hundreds of times from the corner, on the balls of his feet, Sean leapt up, and with his right elbow in tight, let fly the game-winner.  It barely cleared Rasheed’s outstretched arm.  The ball arced towards the basket with the perfect backspin, and the entire arena went silent.  A few flashbulbs flickered in the background as the ball sailed through the net. 

            The eruption that ensued was deafening.  I’ve never heard an arena so loud in my life.  The Blazers still had some time on the clock, but everyone knew the game was over. 

            The Spurs went on to win the series in four games, and then went on to win their first title.  It was no coincidence that Sean Elliott had the final assist of the season when he hit Avery in the corner, and then had the final rebound of the season on the defensive end.  Sean was a monster in the playoffs that season.  He played the role of shutdown defender in every series.  He was all over Kobe in the Lakers series, and then he was all over Latrell Sprewell in the finals.  He also hit many big shots and passes.

            Sean did all of this while battling his own body and kidney failure.  He literally laid it all on the line every game for his teammates and his city.  We returned the favor by praying for him everyday up to and following his surgery.  We longed for his recovery, and hoped that we would get the chance to watch him play the game just one more time.   

Just like David Robinson, Sean grew up before our eyes.  He was a member of the San Antonio family.  Much like Rocky V, The Next Karate Kid, Major League 2 AND 3, and the first Florida Marlins championship, Sean’s trade to Detroit never happened.  He always wore silver and black in my eyes.  And thanks to last night, he always will.  The tribute was well deserved and long overdue.   

Sean; thanks for the points, the rebounds, the wins, the first championship, the Memorial Day Miracle, the Taco Cabana commercial, the knee braces, the mismatched shoes, the broadcasting, and all the smiles.  But most importantly, thanks for being everything that is right with the San Antonio Spurs and the NBA. 

Quick recap of the NFL the past few weeks.

Team unity, and the magic kool-aid couldn’t keep Troy Brown on the Patriots roster despite the fact that he sacrificed his entire offensive game for the team.  It’s a little disappointing the Pats didn’t pick up his option after everything he has sacrificed for the franchise.

Ty Law wants money.  I guess he forgot that the Patriots used a platoon of db’s and one receiver to replace him, and the Pats still won the Super Bowl.  I think he should have swallowed some pride and re-upped with the Pats for a year.

Shaun Alexander is pissed because he’s been franchised.  Charles Woodson is pissed because he’s been franchised.  Edge James may be pissed because he’s been franchised.  All I know is, if I were good enough to be considered a franchise player, I might accept it, even if it meant I could only sign a one-year deal for $6.6 million.  Tough life for those boys.

The Cowboys traded in one over-the-hill stiff for another at quarterback.  At least they can consider it an upgrade, because Vinny was probably the only player sacked more times than Bledsoe last year.  Maybe they could go after Akili Smith as the backup since he also tried his hand at professional baseball. 

The Seahawks locked down Matt Hassleback for the next few years solidifying their team’s position as the best-bald-quarterback duo in the NFL for the next few years.

The Packers lost both of their starting offensive guards.  If you were an aging and moderately beat-up Brett Favre, do you really want to come back to an O-line that would make the 49ers starters cringe?  Personally, I don’t want Brett to retire.  It’s going to be hard enough to watch Jerry Rice walk away from the game. 

T.J. Houshmanzadeh re-signed with the Bengals.  I don’t really care, I just wanted to try to type his name right.  Of course, Houshmanzadeh doesn’t have any options in spell-check. 

Tomorrow, I plan to offer up a little ditty about “the Ninja” after his jersey was retired tonight.  It was a great ceremony, and just solidified my love for the Spurs organization.