Sob with Satisfaction

Bullshit: Now available in something other than a pile of brown.

This is not a popular opinion in my circles, both terrestrial and cyber, but last night was a great basketball evening. Resent David Stern and Robert Horry as much as you'd like, but don't look past the truth. With Amare Stoudemire playing fantastic basketball, the extra motivation born of desperation, and the Spurs missing a key member of their rotation and the second-best interior defender on the team, Phoenix was not as good as San Antonio. And that was a fitting microcosm for the series.

Among certain portions of the population--the sensationalist media and the segment of fans who insist that upon having seen the Suns run, no other basketball is sufficient--2007 Suns-Spurs will forever be remembered as a flawed series. It may even be remembered for its flaws among those with a more expansive and circumspect perspective. And while I don't deny that Phoenix plays exciting, entertaining, effective basketball that I enjoy, the Spurs are also testament to a certain sort of basketball sublimeness. I also find claims that this series was adjudicated in unjust fashion to be something of a canard. The better team won.

Individually, there may be Suns whose general quality exceeds that of their respective counterparts on the Spurs: Marion may have more skills than Bowen does; Nash may run a team, in total, better than Parker does; Thomas may be a better center than Elson or Oberto; and so forth. But as a collection of players, the Spurs are superior. Bowen pressures the ball and hits corner jumpers; Parker runs the pick-and-roll, shoots the floater, and makes the 20-footer with some consistency; Manu puts in threes, goes to the rim, and makes things somewhat frantic; Horry helps on defense and shows up to help save the day; Oberto and Elson foul people and slap at rebounds; Barry once won a dunk contest; Finley is like a shorter version of Donyell Marshall--you think he's too old, you can't really identify one thing that defines him, and he can nail it from deep. It sounds weird that this is a championship-caliber team, but they all complement each other so well. None of it would be possible without Tim Duncan, of course, but in some ways that only reinforces both the Spurs' merits and Duncan's greatness. This team lives the adage that a whole can be greater than the sum of its parts, and the success San Antonio has enjoyed for a decade is all catalyzed by the most unassuming all-time great of, well, all time.

So often set in contradistinction are the Suns, though this baffles me. In the Western Conference Finals, Phoenix seemed very much like a different sort of Spurs. Not similar in style or personnel, the Suns were very much another example of team-based basketball, and in that way, it's perfect that these San Antonio and Phoenix teams will forever be linked. Marion is a superb defender (despite the mental lapses) and slasher; Amare is an unparalleled finisher who hits the pop after a pick; Barbosa blurs to the basket and steps outside; Thomas rebounds and defends. You know the rest--the point is that the Suns, too, are a kit of parts held together by the monolithic presence of their own star, Nash. Games 5 and 6 were proof of the Suns' essence: for all of the warranted adulation and excessive hyperbole that we project onto Stoudemire, it is Nash who allows Phoenix to be Phoenix, whether he is running the small-ball show, emboldening his teammates to play even better, getting Stoudemire going, or raining in clutch jumper after clutch jumper. He's great, and so is Phoenix. But just not great enough.

Throughout the series, Duncan was the central figure in every way. He sets an emotional tone, he scores when the Spurs need offense, he finds teammates when an opponent doubles, and most importantly, he is an incredible defender. The story of the series was that Bowen harassing Nash all over the court was particularly effective because Duncan never afforded Nash any relief. There was never an unimpeded angle, a clean passing lane, or anything easy once Nash made it inside. Passing back out, to say nothing of shooting, was an almost onerous chore because Duncan was always looming. Pop et al. knew exactly what they wanted to do and Phoenix couldn't adjust because at a certain point, they needed Nash to be Nash, and he wasn't. Conversely, San Antonio always had an answer for Phoenix as the Suns sought to be disruptive and take Duncan away from his strengths and the team's rhythm. He adapted better than Nash, and the Suns were somewhat impotent in the void.

(N.B: Most teams can't replicate what San Antonio has, but let's see if the Pop strategy sweeps the league next year and more athletic swingmen get physical, chase around, and drive Nash toward an awaiting center who doesn't leave his feet.)

So it is not only misleading but even unbecoming to protest as though a crime has been committed out West. Suspensions and cuts and hard fouls had nothing to do with Barbosa playing poorly or Manu getting so many open looks. Game 1 was decided not by a team medic but by free throw shooting: with or without Nash, Phoenix was playing desperate basketball in those final moments because the lead was too great. And Game 5 was lost not by suspensions but by bad luck: who knew that Manu would erupt and Nash would struggle? Would Stoudemire and Diaw have made a difference? Yes, but they were available on Friday, Horry was still out, and Phoenix was down by 20 in the fourth quarter. So I don't know how much it would have mattered. It's not as though Game 5 would have had the same emotional tenor or style only with two more Suns participating.

I remain almost without sympathy concerning the suspensions. As I just stated, I don't think that they rendered the series misrepresentative. Beyond that, Jeff Van Gundy (who has an incredible agent and a towering work ethic--he was calling a game on the same night he was fired!) said that Horry's foul was nothing more than a hard one, and I agree. I don't think he or anyone else needed to be suspended. (It of course should be noted, as David Stern did while pwning Dan Patrick, that everyone knows that leaving the bench = suspension.) Nash, though fouled, played up the effect, and the only thing the incident should have produced was more tension for Game 5. It probably wouldn't even have been as big a deal had it not "happened to" the NBA's greatest white hope, but that is a topic that's been discusses in other venues many times before. Regardless of race, though, Horry's foul was some old-school NBA shit that was very much a part of what we all loved about the Eastern Conference in the 80s and 90s. Those quotations pictured above are disingenuous. We know that the better team won; we know that the foul should haunt no one because it decided nothing.

If you're lamenting a Western Conference Finals featuring the teams that out-executed and outplayed the Warriors and Suns, you're missing something. Last night was fantastic, and this next series should, be as well. No one was robbed of anything other than empty hype. And maybe an MVP award, because Duncan seems plenty deserving.

P.S. I stand by this, as it was on display last night.

P.P.S. Jeff Van Gundy is a great broadcaster. He and Marv, together again, would be a dream come true.

P.P.P.S. Offensive fouls should be abolished save for the most egregious circumstances. They ruin a game and unfairly penalize the aggressive team trying to make a play.