I’ve been waiting for a while now to post this. I waited, because I’m okay with forfeiting the mantle of prophet if it helps get the point across. The point is this:

The 2010-2011 Spurs have gotten off to a franchise-record, league-leading start … DESPITE being ravaged by injuries.

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PopFiles: Operation "Mills of God"

June 15, 2010

"Is that you, Steve?" Peter Holt stopped dead in his tracks. Around him, a dozen square-jawed men in keffiyeh and dark sunglasses paused to inspect the wares on display at the many stalls that lined the Deir El Nasra. Miles overhead, a private Ofek 10 satellite noted the deviation in its owner's vector and ran an unscheduled security sweep. Holt, mopping sweat from his brow, peered into the dim little café where he thought ... where he could have sworn...

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POP QUIZ:

1) Two seasons ended early last season. Which one was more of a surprise:

A - The unstoppable Cavs, led by the greatest human being ever to draw breath, losing to the hapless and mediocre Celtics?

B - The Spurs, who have been D-U-N done for half a decade, finally getting knocked out by the far more talented and exciting Phoenix Suns?

--

If you answered 'A', congratulations! You're qualified to be an NBA analyst! Which is good, because I'd hate to see you fixing cars, unblocking toilets, or doing any other kind of important job with real-world consequences.

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PHOENIX -- It should have been a night of celebration in Arizona as the Suns took Game 2 of their Western Conference Semifinals series against their arch-rivals, the San Antonio Spurs. The 102-110 victory was bittersweet, however, as Phoenix mourned the passing of B. A. Refs, a cherished and longstanding member of the team.

"I still can't believe it," said Amar'e Stoudemire, who paced the Suns with 23 points on this triumphal yet tragic night. "I mean, Bitching has been part of the Phoenix squad for as long as I can remember. He hasn't played as big a role this season as he has in other years, but really, he was the heart and soul of this team."

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3:00am April 29th, 2009

"Next year, Pete. Next year."  Jimmy, the night guard at Holt Cat headquarters, pushed the door open for his boss just as Peter Holt was fumbling for his keys. Jimmy had been at the game too; a faded black-and-silver jersey hung out the bottom of his uniform jacket.

Holt gave Jimmy a weary nod. "Yeah. Yeah, next year. Shouldn’t you be in bed?"

"Couldn’t sleep. Figured maybe you couldn’t either."

"Yeah." Holt clapped Jimmy on the shoulder. "You got that right." He was bone tired, drained dry, but Julianna knew not to expect him home tonight. It was always this way after a big loss. When things don’t go the way they should, well, a man’s gotta go to work.

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"The Mavs are ghetto trash. We’ve given these losers enough hope! Kill em now!"
"Dirk tried to flop. Seriously, what a fag."
"Dirk’s days are numbered starting now."
"I got a bat and a ski mask all I need is a ride and the coordinates of Dirk’s impending locations."
"Where is my pistol, bitches are gonna die tonight."
"Dirk, you’re going to get hit by a semi on the 35."

I know we’re all in the heat of the rivalry, and Mavs-hating is the order of the day, but what do you think when you read comments like these? Not cool, right? I mean, I know that we’re completely dedicated to our boys in black and silver and their campaign of domination over Dallas, but this is way, way over the line. I know, you know, everybody here knows that this kind of BS is shameful, a disgrace. Homophobic slurs? Fantasies of violence against opposing players? Our community wouldn't stand for such nonsense, and no self-respecting Spurs fan would write this kind of garbage.

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One for the thumb? Five in '10? It's tough odds, that's for sure. We know we’re a long shot to win it all this year – we need for so much to go right that could so easily go wrong, we need to be lucky on so many counts. These are the facts, and they are undeniable. Any sentence that starts "The Spurs are title contenders this year" must inevitably continue with the word ‘if’.

Sure, we can win...

• IF Duncan’s got something left in the tank.
• IF Ginobili can stay healthy.
• IF Parker and Hill can come back from injury.
• IF RJ and McDyess can step it up and show some pride and aggression.
• IF Bonner, Bogans and RMJ can hit their threes and not screw up too much.
• IF the San Antonio Spurs, who have been too old and washed up ever since they won their second ring, can pull it together for one more push.

All true. All these ‘ifs’ are legitimate concerns. If Lady Luck frowns on any of these counts (and she very well could) the Spurs aren’t gonna do it this year. What we forget, however – and everybody does seem to forget this – is that every team has ‘ifs’ of its own. I don’t mean wild, long-shot considerations like ‘The Cavs will contend if LeBron isn’t savaged by weasels’. I'm talking about real, serious concerns that are well within the realm of possibility and entirely outside each team's control. Let’s look at the teams whose contendership doesn’t always get the "if" treatment:

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In the past two years I've felt a measure of personal responsibility for the Spurs' early playoff exits. The playoff beard is a noble tradition, but I - being of Nordic ancestry - have never managed to contribute more than a quarter-inch of stubble to the cause. I understand that this is unacceptable. I understand that the Basketball Gods demand sacrifice. I have fasted and meditated, and I feel that Their will is clear.

I am taking a lovely young lady out tonight. I actually met her at the sports bar where I was watching the NOOCH game - she's a huge sports fan herself, though not much of a hoops-lover, and she understands the importance of watching key games. Consequently, she understands my priorities, and we're going to be having dinner at a great little restaurant that always shows basketball games when they're on TNT.

This young lady is truly a thing of beauty: tall, slender, pretty, and - as John Cusack might say - a 'sure thing'. My pledge, before the FSM and the PtR community:

If the Spurs win this, I'm going home alone tonight.

I doubt the Basketball Gods are getting many offerings this early in the season - surely, my sacrifice is too great for them to resist.  When Lauri wrote that the mojo favors the Spurs, she little knew how right she was. Keep me in your thoughts tonight, my friends. Every Ray Allen brick, every 'Sheed technical - know that Bonner's treys and Blair's boards will be divinely guided. No question, PtR: we win this game. Not without cost, but I'm prepared to do (and not do) what is necessary. By this time tomorrow the Spurs will be 10-6, and I will have redeemed myself.

UPDATE:

I hear the anger. I see the pointed fingers. I hear talk of jinxes, of bad karma, of my lack of traditional deference to the Mojo Gods.  And you know what? You're right. We do tend to tiptoe around the basketball deities here at PtR. And you know what? I put it to you: isn't that a problem?

Haven't the mojo gods gotten used to our cowering deference? I think they're taking us for granted - and in the larger sense, I think this is hurting our beloved Spurs. I say we've got the most talented crew in the league (and yeah, that includes LA). I say we've got the best coach in the league (and yeah, that includes LA). And yet we've got no swagger, no fire in the belly. Sure, we neither expect nor want a bunch of chest-pounding from our team, but past championship squads have had a sense of inevitability about them - a quiet dominance, an innate menace that put other teams back on their heels.  We've improved the squad, but lost that black-and-silver magic. It's time we demanded it back.

Remember how our relationship with the Mojo Gods used to be? We paid them homage and offered them the traditional sacrifices, and they hung banners in our rafters. When did the magic die? What can we do to resurrect it? Well, I'm calling for a New Deal with the Spirits of Spurs Mojo. The sacrifice I put on the table last night, which our gods so callously rejected, is now a standing offer: every single game we play against a top-five team, I'm putting my love-life on the line.

For the sake of Sima's heart, no more predictions. No more guarantees - although I contend that it was only the presence of Guaran-Sheed in last night's game that derailed mine. But we need the Mojo Gods to understand that this is a two-way street. A world of worship awaits them ... but they've got to make with the Ws.

Mojo doesn't just come back. It has to be taken back. I'm doing my part.

This was inspired by boredom and a comment from 'the little o'  in response to the excellent BatManu wallpapers with which silverandblack_davis has favored us. So, credit and blame where it's due. Since it's early in the season, I think we could all use a little hyperbole - plus a reverse jinx, to counter all the positive energy around this year's team. We've compared the boys in black and silver to everything else under the sun; why not to the most dysfunctional team of them all?

If you haven't read 'Watchmen', go do that. If you've only seen the movie, go read the book. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you ... the WatchSpurs

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Remember the Run-and-Gun-and-Fun-and-Lose 2006-07 Phoenix Suns? The ones who saved basketball by being, oh my god, the most potent offensive force in history? Sure, defense was de thing separating them from de trophy, but who cares: the ball went through the basket. After all, they had five guys who could score - Nash, Stoudemire, Marion, Bell, and Barbosa all averaged 10+ points per game. Imagine! Five guys who can score!

Now, I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong.

You're thinking: wait! But the Spurs have ... hold on ... there's Tim, Tony and Manu ... and RJ, he can score by the bushel ... Hill was a huge scorer in college, and he's started doing it again ... and damn, Blair averages over ten points despite only playing fifteen minutes a night (and then it's in those weird Pop-is-experimenting lineups). Six! Six guys who, at any given time, can go NBA Jam and set the net on fire! Even when running actual half-court sets, we've got six guys who can straight-up kill the other team!

Wrong. See, I told you that you were going to be wrong, and then you went and did it. Jerk. In fact, we do not have six game-changing scorers.

We have nine.

When's the last time you listened to Mick Jagger's 'She's the Boss'? How about Keith Moon's 'Two Sides'? Some guys just weren't meant to go solo, but put them in the right situation with the right teammates and they will bring the proverbial fire. When you ask the wrong things of some guys, you won't be happy with what you get. When FinDog has to carry the offense, he sucks like a chest wound. When Mason has to run the point, he looks lost and crappy. When Bonner has to act like an athlete, he soils himself (just watch how he runs). When the other team is focused on shutting these guys down, these guys get shut down. But how the hell is the other team going to focus on shutting down Finster, RoMaJu and Red Rocket when they've got six legit scorers to deal with?

The 06-07 Suns were dynamite one-through-five, and Diaw was a definite threat, but after that? Their next best contributor was James Jones, who averaged four points a game in Miami last year. We, on the other hand, have three of the top three-point shooters in the league - y'know, on top of the six guys who can tear it up in the paint.

Oh, those boring, boring Spurs.

BSAT-time, folks. For purposes of this test, all players 6'10" and taller will be referred to as 'seven footers', because people do that for some reason and because it makes this sound even cooler:

1) What is:

Ian Mahinmi

Theo Ratliff

Marcus Haislip

Malik Hairston

George Hill

(A) A list of five guys who we either didn't own or barely used last year.

(B) A list of five guys who have at least a semi-fighting chance of cracking the regular rotation on an elite NBA team.

(C) A list of five guys who, if they were used as a second unit, would not only be fairly middle-of-the-pack among actual NBA second units - they would be the BIGGEST second unit in the NBA.

Seriously. I mean, I know we love small-ball, but it's not unrealistic to think that we could have these exact five players on the court during garbage time this season. Think about what that would look like:

C - Athletic seven-footer

PF - Wily seven-footer with mad shot-blocking skillz and Youngevity(tm)

SF - Athletic seven-footer who, if his YouTube mixes don't lie (and they never do), could block the shuttle launch ... with his fist.

SG - Will have twelve inches on his generic matchup ... of biceps girth. Hairston's stupid-strong, and if not over-tall he's certainly not short for the position.

G - C'mon, it's Qbitz. Albatross. Long, strong, down to get the friction on.

These guys will bestride other teams' scrubs like a Colossus.

(D) All of the above.

---

In fact, now that I think about it, your 09-10 Spurs are a considerably bad-assier lot than any other recent incarnation. Sure, we lost Ime 'Might Have Killed A Man In Africa' Udoka, but think about what we added. Besides Mean-Punch Marcus, we've brought on:

- A guy who the most powerful human being on Earth described in hushed tones as 'a man' (as in, "Now that's a man")

- A guy who played a game after throwing up all night following surgery to repair a broken nose the previous day (and that's nowhere near the top of the 'Wow, Dice is tough' list)

- A guy who can occasionally dominate the paint despite being simultaneously French and made of glass

- A guy who left his bride sort-of at the altar so that he could devote every last ounce of energy to kicking ass and taking names in a Spurs jersey

The Spurs will be walking away with the Larry O'Brien trophy this year. Seriously, even if they don't win the championship, they're just gonna take the trophy and leave. Nobody will try to stop them.

Hey all,

Just had a thought. We know how a Spurs season works: we start off soft, look lost and weak, and drop a slew of games in the first half of the season. Then we gel, the team comes together, and for a while after the All Star break we look unbeatable. Then Pop decides we've shown the opposition as much as we need to, we start resting guys, and we play okayish until the real season starts.

How about this year?

Getting bounced by Dallas apparently earned Holt, our beloved owner, a visitation from the ghosts of chamionships past, present and future. The wallet's open, and even if we're done making moves for the offseason we're a lot richer - and Hold is consequently a lot poorer - than has been the case in recent memory. That being the case, I ask you:

Does Pop owe Holt home court advantage?

Sure, we know that Pop could care less whose pine the Spurs play on in the postseason. But playoff games mean mucho dinero for the home team, and HCA (potentially) means extra home games. Do you think there will be some pressure on Coach for us to dominate throughout the season, rather than just at the end of it, so that we can return a little extra green to Holt's wallet when the time comes?

Western thought, traceable down through Locke and Hume, past Thomas Aquinas and all the way back to Aristotle, rests to a great degree on the endurance of identity. A thing is what it is - an apple is an apple, an orange is an orange, I am me - and our way of thinking revolves around the generally-accepted assumption that an apple today will not be an orange tomorrow. That is all well and good. However, it leaves us open to certain types of intellectual laziness. We are so anxious to quantify, we tend to overlook the inherently transient nature of that being quantified.

In all things we must see reality through the prism of change, even though by doing so we force ourselves to grapple with the thorniest of questions. Is a man who has spent the last ten years in jail the same man who committed the crime that put him there? Can you step into the same river twice (or, to follow St. Augustine's conjecture, even once)? And who are the Spurs?

This season we have seen many different Spurs teams. But have we ever seen the Spurs? We know that there is a certain rock-ribbed poetry about a Spurs squad that has hit its stride, an inevitability that sucks the life out of opponents. We've been good, on occasion. But have we ever seen prime Spurs ball this season? I think not.

Certainly, there have been injuries. There have been acquisitions, and new players added to the fold. But our team's character hasn't changed, has it? Timmy, Tony and Manu have all, at times, shown the kind of dominance that makes them the only true Big Three. But we still haven't seen that true magic.

Maybe it's gone.

Or...

Maybe Pop's tired of hearing about how 'the Spurs always come on strong in the second half of the season'. Maybe he doesn't want to reel off an umpteen-game winning streak right before the playoffs. Maybe he's been telling the truth all along: the regular season doesn't matter.

Maybe he means it.

I've always been eager to give Pop the benefit of the doubt. God knows he's earned it. And now, with Timmy taking it easy and Manu getting comfortable (and Tony playing out of his mind) ... well, isn't this a squad that's about ready to gel? These are all great character guys, guys who know their role. We've got a few more regular-season games to get warmed up, and then the start of the postseason itself to fine-tune. With luck on our side, we could end up facing the Fakers with 80-90% of Duncan and Ginobili, plus 110% of Parker, plus the best set of role-players and specialists this team has seen in recent history.

So c'mon, Spurs. Saddle up. The real season's about to start, and the best is yet to come.

Let me preface this by saying: as of now, I'm a perfect 3-0 in my bracketology - so nobody can accuse me of writing this post out of bitterness. And don't get me wrong, March Madness is a blast. It's just ... well, it's a blast the same way dating a cokehead is a blast. Fun, crazy, unpredictable? No doubt. But once the novelty wears off, you've pretty much got to recognize that you're dealing with an inferior product that will bore, then anger, and finally depress you.

Most of all, I'm tired of hearing weekend-warrior fans get sniffy about how "college teams play better defense than the professionals." Wrong, wrong, wrong. College teams hustle, and they do it against crappy ball-handlers and poor shooters; that, plus the relatively lower game scores, can be used to create the illusion that the NBA is a lackadaisical dunk-fest in comparison. Never mind that college games are 17% shorter, or that the college shot clock is 46% longer. That means that there will be a minimum of 120 possessions in a non-overtime pro game, compared to 68 in a college game. "Only" allowing 65 points - against pissant offensive players, at that - doesn't sound like such lock-down team defense now, does it?

If I wanted to be entertained by a competition amongst losers, I'd watch Wheel of Fortune or Survivor: Whogivesacrap. I watch sports to be entertained by a competition among the best and most talented athletes - and sorry, Charlie, that ain't college basketball.

Update: 7-for-7 so far, and college basketball still sucks. Not as much as LatinD's bracket, though.

I read Bill Simmons sometimes. I'll thank you not to judge me. Sure, he's no kind of legitimate expert, but he's sorta the Jon Stewart of sports journalism: a hack, but with something to say, and with occasional insights that are worth hearing even if they're hardly original.

In the latest ESPN Magazine, Simmons collected a paycheck for an article that loosely applies sporting statistics to the judging of actors. He came to the conclusion that Meryl Streep is the greatest actor/actress working today. I like his arguments, they just happen to be completely wrong. Here's my take on the subject:

via www.wildaboutmovies.com

The first step in brokering a lasting peace between PTR and photographic images of female human beings

Streep's good. Damn good. But is she really The Greatest, the winningest of the winners? In the world of acting, the Oscar is like the NBA regular-season MVP award. It gets you in magazines, but what does it really mean? The MVP hasn't ended up winning a ring since Duncan in 02-03. And Oscars do not the 'best actor' make.

Meryl Streep is the acting equivalent of Steve Nash - beloved, respected, and a repeat award-winner. How many Streep movies are on your all-time list? 'Doubt' was superb, 'Death Becomes Her' and 'She-Devil' were wildly underrated (why did she forget that she does comedy?), and 'Kramer vs. Kramer', 'Sophie's Choice', and 'Out of Africa' are all on somebody's list of top films. Probably not yours. How many of those flicks do you DVR?

Here's another list for you: 'Star Wars', 'The Empire Strikes Back', 'The Return of the Jedi', 'Raiders of the Lost Ark', 'The Temple of Doom', 'The Last Crusade', 'Blade Runner', 'Witness', 'The Fugitive', and 'American Graffiti'.

Nobody stacks up to Harrison Ford in terms of the indisputable pantheon gems on his resume. On a gut level you appreciate every single one of those movies more than anything Meryl Streep ever did in her life. And that's okay. Ford is like Manu Ginobili - nobody's ever going to sing the praises of his surgical passing, effortless stroke, or long flowing locks. All he does is go out there and beat people. And even after his recent crimes against humanity, Ford will still take Streep off the dribble on the best day she ever lived.

I giggled at the screen last night. It was in the fourth quarter, Spurs down by twelve. All I could think was 'man, this comeback is gonna be awesome'.

In an effort to recapture that feeling, I thought I'd take a stroll through popular culture to hunt out instances of the same quiet bravado that I saw in Manu in particular and our boys in general as they set about the task of destroying a team that thought it had its foot on our necks. Here are my suggestions; others are welcome.

1) The source of the title quote. If you can think of a more apt parallel for the magnificent mayhem that the merely-human-yet-preternaturally-focused Manu can accomplish, I'd love to hear it. Oh, bonus points for not needing to Google the quote.

2) With a nod to Big50's very-recent post: Gladiator, after Phoenix stabs Crowe in the final showdown. Because winners are winners, even when we're bleeding.

3) The Matrix, after the agents unload into Neo. Because when you stop to think about it, there is no spoon - and there is no opponent, not when the Big 3 are operating on all cylinders.

4) Tying in both Moore and the Wachowski brothers, V for Vendetta: you don't think Nellie was on the sidelines screaming "Die! Die! Why won't you die? Why ... won't ... you ... die?"

5) The Crow. I'm pretty sure that during that timeout where everybody was fired up and yelling, Manu muttered under his breath: "They're all dead. They just don't know it yet."

What have I missed?

http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/news/story?id=3838234

In case you didn't know, we just picked up journeyman forward Austin Croshere for a 10-day contract. I remember being generally well disposed towards the guy when he was in Indiana, and he's certainly got plenty of that good ol' veteran savvy we love so much. Plus, this has got to be a hopeful sign:

"Croshere was waived by Milwaukee on Jan. 6 after appearing in 11 games. He averaged 3.3 rebounds and 2.2 rebounds."

The one thing we could really use is a big who gets boards. And looks goofy as hell. Score!

To 'ruck': to rock or to suck, one or the other, with little middle ground.

Especially with the ubiquity of fantasy sports, there is an inordinate amount of effort that goes into transforming athletes into numbers. This is especially true in baseball, which I can't even follow anymore - any sport in which the difference between greatness and despair sits more than two places after the decimal point has officially lost my interest. That said, there's safety in numbers, and if you know the actual context it's possible to look through the math and see glimmers of truth.

Hollinger's PER (Player Efficiency Rating) statistic is in many ways flawed, but at the very least it makes a reasonable attempt to identify who's overrated and who's underrated in today's NBA. Without further ado, then, a little fun with the (as of today's date) Hollinger PER player rankings.

1) LeBron James, CLE - This is as it should be. At the top of these rankings you'd expect to find players of extraordinary talent in systems that cater to that talent. In this case, the King Without a Ring is a classic showcase star: the whole team is built around helping him do his thing. Does that win championships? Rarely. But it gets you to the top of the PER list. The next three in the list are in the same boat: Wade, Paul and Howard are great players whose teams live or die by their production. Their job is to be the star, and they do that job. You might, in fact, expect that the first few dozen players on the list would fall into this category: the franchise players on each team who get their numbers dialed up time and time again.

5) Tony Parker, SAS - The first Spur, and surely a surprise. Tony's a fine player, sure,  but I don't have a clue what kind of shoes he wears. He's certainly not the sole option like the players above him in the list are for their teams. So why such a high PER? He must be pretty damned efficient if he can rank this high while sharing the rock with stars like:

7) Tim Duncan, SAS - And...

8) Manu Ginobili, SAS - Wow. Two more Spurs - a total of three in the top ten. I wonder how far down we'd have to go to find the next team to get three players on the list?

10) Kobe Bryant, LAL

21) Pau Gasol, LAL

24) Andrew Bynum, LAL - Yup, it's the Lakers who put up the next-best Big Three. Should they feel bad that their top-ranked player scores lower than our third? Sure, why not. But what about the other 'Big Three', the Boston Boys?

27) Kevin Garnett, BOS

36) Ray Allen, BOS

38) Rajon Rondo, BOS - Huh? Rondo's the third most efficient player on the Celtics? Where'd Pierce go, anyway?

97) Paul Pierce, BOS - Oh. Awkward.

But enough talk about the competition - let's get back to the Spurs. Obviously, our Big Three (being the *actual* Big Three) are at the top of the heap. You certainly wouldn't expect us to field anybody else in the top 50. That would just be greedy.

47) Matt Bonner, SAS - Huh. Well then. And who is Red Rocket better than?

48) Baron Davis, LAC - Like we didn't already know that. So, who else is ranked where?

88) George Hill, SAS - Qbitz! To the rescue! That's five Spurs in the top 100, all of them more efficient than...

99) Carmelo Anthony, DEN - Now there's a shock. Okay then. Where's everybody .else at?

158) Roger Mason, SAS - Okay, that's not an exalted ranking, but bear in mind - it's a deep league, and he's still outdoing the likes of J.R. Smith and Lamar Odom. Anything over 200, however, and they're probably best off playing limited minutes in highly specialized situations (or, ideally, being traded).

221) Michael Finley, SAS

240) Anthony Tolliver, SAS 

266) Kurt Thomas, SAS

288) Fabricio Oberto, SAS

291) Jacque Vaughn, SAS

295) Ime Udoka, SAS

303) Bruce Bowen, SAS

What can we say? Findog we knew about, and we don't even pretend to be asking Bruce to play the same sport as everybody else in the league. Still ... that's a little worrisome, right? Can we afford to have seven active-roster players in the bottom third of the league? If not, we can always get rid of them. Check out the very bottom of the barrel, the last page of the rankings, players 301-317 on the list:

305) Francisco Elson, MIL

313) Brent Barry, HOU

314) Nazr Mohammed, CHA

317) Malik Rose, NYK

Yup - just as three of the top ten players are Spurs, three of the bottom ten players are former Spurs. And all of them have rings.

I don't know what this means. But it must mean something.

Well. Okay then. This much, at least, I know:

• The good news: if we hadn't been sloppy as hell out there, we'd have won. Manu and TP shot a combined 10-24; that's not gonna happen too often. Plus, we were sloppy as hell, and ordinarily we're good at not being sloppy as hell. 'Course, ordinarily JFK was good at not getting shot in the head; just because it's not a habit doesn't make it less horrific when it happens.
• Jacque Vaughn stepped onto the court tonight. Best Case Scenario: Pop is giving the JV a little play to attract some GM desperate for a savvy veteran leper. Worst Case Scenario: Pop thinks that the JV has a legitimate excuse to be wearing a Spurs uniform that doesn't involve selling Spurs uniforms.
• Tim Duncan was created when military scientists, after countless failed experiments with pieces of structural lumber and streusel topping, finally achieved the Ultimate Stud Muffin. 9-19 be damned, he was a hoss out there tonight.
• Qbitz is a goddamned Spur. There is no statistical category that tracks catching up with an opponent on the fast break and swatting away easy lay-ups, but we all know the truth. Now if only he could get more than six minutes in a game that could have used a lot less JV and even a smidge less TP.
• Matt Bonner looks great! Let's trade his ginger-whiskered ass quick, maybe he's got somebody fooled!
• Timmy sat on a cameraman's face. In a week, the cameraman's oncologist will be at a loss - he's never seen a cancerous face-lesion go into remission that fast. The FDA will fast-track approval for over-the-counter sales of Tim Duncan ass sweat.
• Quelle dommage - Le P'tit Francais is not yet in top form. Shooting struggles aside, we don't seem to be getting in the extra pass with him running the point. What if we gave *him* some time in the second unit? With him slashing and Mason at the arc, we'd have a deadly drive-and-dish pairing that could put up serious points against an enemy second unit. 'Course, we'd have to find *somebody* to start at PG. Maybe somebody with long arms and dreamy brown eyes a fella could get lost in...
• Seriously. Can somebody please go Kathy-Bates-in-'Misery' on the JV? At this point I'd rather see James Caan in black and silver.
• Rasheed Wallace needs to get Tim Duncan to sit on his head. It would fix his attitude and cure that freaky little grey patch on the back of his skull.

Let's face it: we're all bitter, cynical pessimists. We have to be - at no point in this century have we been more than two years away from a ring, and we've got a legit GOAT flanked by two no-nonsense all-stars. If we weren't pessimists, we'd be arrogant jerks. And we're not jerks. So we're going to spend the rest of this season, like every season, going back to the same old wells for reasons why we can't win it all this year.

One problem: those wells are drying up.

The Spurs are too old. This one just gets better every year, right? Unfortunately, I was momentarily distracted by a bumblebee, and when I turned back around Los Spurs had pulled a fast one. A couple of fast ones, actually - fast, athletic, and above all young. Out with RoHo, in with Hill and Mason - and suddenly time is on our side.

We don't have the offense. God, tell me about it. I have this dream where I'm naked, and I'm falling, and Pop has got Fab, Horry, Bowen and FinDog in with JV running the point. But now ... feel free to double-check my math, but Duncan + Parker + Manu + Mason + Hill = five guys who can go off at any time. That means the only way Pop can field a No-O lineup once we whittle this down to a nine-man rotation will be if he decides to go four-on-five.

Point guards? What point guards? For how long have we lived and died by the fact that Manu can de facto run the point when we need him to? Because face it, Parker has to sit sometime, and Manu was the only other guy on the team who could be reliably counted on not to dribble off his foot. Don't look now guys, but at this point it would take some creativity on Pop's part to field a lineup containing not one but two guys who can handle, pass, and create.

Our bench makes a mud puddle look like the Marianas Trench. Yikes. If we didn't insist on pretending that Manu's a reserve, we'd be looking at bench production you can count without taking off your shoes. We're used to very delicate math in San Antonio - an average of twenty points apiece from our big three, another fifteen or so from some combination of Bowen corners, Fab garbage collection, and FinDog doggery, and then whatever the hell the scrubs can put together while the real players wince from the sidelines. Now? I just watched a game in which the bench came up with 54 points. More than twice what the other team's bench scored. Stop me if you can see where I'm going with this.

Time to face facts, gentlemen: it's time to turn over a new leaf. And so I humbly submit two plausible reasons for despair, to keep us from unsightly glee whenever Manu turns back the clock with an exclamation-point dunk or Mr. Hill rejects the #1 draft pick. Some fear for this year:

Chemistry problems. We've never seen Mason and Hill in the same rotation as Manu and Parker. Who knows what could happen? Sure, Hill seems to actually do better off the bench, and it's hard to picture career-backup-turned-lottery-winner Mason getting chippy with Emmanuel "I don't give a flying f***" Ginobili, but who knows. Maybe having defensive pressure diverted towards the all-stars will destroy the newbies' sense of self-worth, and they'll start to sulk at being guarded by scrubs.

Too many steps have been lost. Tim and Bruce are minus a step, people. Finley? Seven steps. Okay, there's no actual evidence for the first one, and the last one has been true since last century. But ... Bruce! What will we do, now that Mr. Potato Head isn't quite so quick on his ankle-snapping feet? I'm worried that pretty soon, all he'll be good for will be throwing elbows, funnelling opponents in to the bigs and taking the occasional spot-up jumper.

Wait...

Ime Udoka will be pleased to know that I am officially blessing him as a member of my beloved Spurs.

Mister H.A.T. (Horrible Arm Thing) just looks like a Spur - sure, he makes a few boneheaded turnovers, but when Game 7 was over and I glanced at the box score I was shocked to see that he had fewer than 15 points and 7 rebounds. He looked quietly fantastic, and more importantly he made the other guys look unsettled and off-balance. When Udoka is on the floor, the opponent is not having any fun. And that, cats and kittens, is the hallmark of good Spurs basketball.

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2008/writers/ian_thomsen/05/02/weekly.countdown/1.html

"But it isn't like Gregg Popovich is that much a better coach than Byron Scott."

Here's a fun fact for you: Byron Scott has coached in 318 fewer games than Popovich ... and lost 14 more. Gregg Popovich has won more than twice as many games as Scott has. But he's lost fourteen fewer.

Scott has more fail than Pop. Pop has more than twice as much win as Scott.

How much is "that much" anyway?

My karma-cup runneth over lately, in the form of a hot little blonde with a pair of tix for the Spurs-Wizards game, so I thought I'd share the love with a few observations:

From phxsuns.net:

"Kerr says he believes Sean Marks will surprise some people and be a bigger part of things."

For those of you keeping score at home, remember that over the past few years our absolute ownership of the Suns has had two primary root causes:

1/ They play no D.

2/ They only have a seven-man rotation, and by the time the playoffs roll around the run-and-funners are gasping like fat kids with three-pack-a-day habits.

As of now ... and the consensus appears to be that the Suns don't have the will or the wherewithal to make any major new additions ... the chief difference between the Suns we faced this year and the Suns we'll face next year will be:

1/ They've lost their best (only) post defender. Well, it's not like we've got the best post player in history or anything. Can Duncan shoot 86% for an entire playoff series? Can Amare foul out before the opening tip hits the hardwood?

2/ Their bench is no deeper than it was - and they've swapped out a rugged workhorse for Grant 'Mr. Glass' Hill. It's quite conceivable that we could end up seeing a five-man rotation, resulting in the 47th minute of a hard-fought contest turning into a quintuple coronary that leaves the court looking like the final scene of Hamlet.

Enter Sean Marks?

You know, all of a sudden the idea of bringing back a championship squad without any major roster changes doesn't seem all that bad.

http://fannation.com/truth_and_rumors/view/11451

I am simultaneously hopeful and terrified about this. On the one hand, I would LOVE to see Duhon in SA - I've always liked him, he's got great spirit and a great team mentality. Plus, I don't know how to say no to anything that gives us an actual PG to spell our newlywed Frenchman.

On the other hand, make no mistake: this is a $0.50-for-a-dollar trade. I'm convinced that Scola can be an All-Star if he ever comes over here, and (much as I'd love to eat these words) I can't see Duhon ever being more than a solid rotation guy.

Of course, a solid rotation guy might just get us another championship next year. And then screw up our salary situation next summer. What the hell? Will somebody please tell me what to think about this? Update [2007-7-18 10:17:49 by Rand]: I've made up my mind, and am wholly in favor of sending Scola to Chicago to bring Duhon to SA. Funny how finding a two-solid-players-for-absolute-dick trade in your Cheerios can help to focus your mind.

Well, kind of.

Is it stupid to be reading online predictions of how the deep picks in the '07 draft will play out? Yes. But then, if I were intelligent I wouldn't have a job that allowed me to spend my afternoon reading online predictions of how the deep picks in the '07 draft will play out. So, anyhow:

HoopsHype has come out with its $0.02 for the draft, and I wanted to see how the Spurs mock-fared. HH stuck us at #28 with Morris Almond - whose bio indicates that he's 'not an amazing athlete' but his 'intangibles are outstanding'. This would cause me to jab myself in the head with a ballpoint pen if I didn't know that the Spurs are more likely to grab the rights to an illiterate nineteen-year-old raised by aye-ayes in the jungles of Madagascar than some guy named Morris Almond. Aye-ayes have tremendous upside potential.

What interested me more was the faux-pick directly behind ours - PHX at #29. To help us ignorami figure the draft out for ourselves, HH gives each candidate a comparison-player, an NBAer whose game theirs most resembles. And with the twenty-ninth pick the Phoenix Suns select Petteri Koponen, a Finnish PG who you may know as the poor man's ... Beno Udrih.

Yes. They went there.

Please, this has to happen. And Koponen has to play. So that I can watch Suns games and remark idly: "Well, if you can't have Beno Udrih..."

http://www.hoopshype.com/draft.htm

I love my Spurs. I love them just the way they are, and I hope they never change. That said, I hate that it's impossible to read about my boys without having to sit through all the tired old crap about how 'boring' the team is.

Sure, we can rail all we want against the media and the total failure of imagination it demonstrates when it comes to covering San Antonio. But if we really want to end all this nonsense, we need to find a new story for the media to tell - one that doesn't compromise what we love about the Spurs, but which gives non-fans something to chew on.

Now there are a variety of different 'personalities' basketball teams can have. There's the high-flying 'Showtime' team (Suns), the star-vehicles (Cavs, Lakers), the blue-collar brawlers (Pistons), the up-and-coming youngsters (Bulls, Jazz), and the various fascinating train wrecks (Heat, Nets, etc.). But the Spurs can't really fit into any of those niches - they play too much D, their star's too busy playing basketball to make T-Mobile commercials, and they're just too traditionally reliable. My suggestion: the Surrealist Spurs!

Picture it - Oberto squares up for the opening tip, then pauses to shake a flock of doves from his flowing mane. After a particularly nasty spin-move to the hole, Tony just keeps spinning and spinning, up the tunnel and out of sight. Manu falls to the court as usual - and, on arising, screams out "I am reborn!" prior to tearfully embracing the opponent who bumped him. Jacques Vaughn disappears and is never heard from or mentioned again. And Timmy? Timmy says nothing. To anyone. Ever.

It would work, I tell you. The Spurs just keep playing their own incredibly successful brand of basketball - and the first time Francisco Elson shows up to a press conference in the nude is the last we have to hear about the 'boring Spurs'.

Think about it.

I make a habit of reading not only Spurs blogs (PtR's the best going away, btw) but also fan blogs for whatever team we're playing at the moment. Nuggs, Suns, now Jazz. And I've noticed something: Nuggs fans and Jazz fans, while they talk trash like any red-blooded sports fans do, seem generally respectful and sportsmanlike. Suns fans? Well, we know about Suns fans.

My theory: bandwagon fans are assholes. There's been no buzz around Denver, Utah, etc. - so the only fans are the true fans, fans who love the team for more than the outcome of any given game or series. The Suns, however, have (had) all the glitz and glory - runnin', gunnin', hypin', Caucasian feel-goodness. So people who aren't really fans at all decided that they're Suns fans. Then, since their fandom is based entirely upon the premise that they've picked the team that is going to win, they get pissy and offended when reality doesn't accommodate their glory-hunting. Any opponent who beat them would be 'dirty', because only treachery and foul play could possibly account for the demise of 'their' team.

So, that's my theory: overhyped teams have ungracious 'fans'. Let's test that theory; what pro teams suffer from overhype? Which have jackass fans?

Suns? Overhyped: Check. Jackass fans: Check.
Mavs? Overhyped: Check. Jackass fans: Check.
Yankees? Overhyped: Check. Jackass fans: Check.
Sabres? Overhyped: Check. Jackass fans: Check.

Who am I missing?

(NB - obviously even overhyped teams have the usual core of legitimate fans; my guess is that there are plenty of decent, courteous Suns fans out there somewhere)

I play Scrabble with my dad sometimes. Not very often. Do you know why? Because it's boring, and my dad's a dirty player.

Seriously.

My dad knows every two- and three-letter word in the English language, including ones that only exist because the bastard-Scrabble-players' lobby succeeded in getting them into the dictionary. I don't know what 'qat' is. What the f*ck is 'qat'? Answer: 'qat' is the reason I'm down sixty points, and I haven't even laid my third word yet. Seriously, it's boring to play somebody who's so much better than you that they're playing a completely different game. It really seems unfair. It's like fighting dirty.

I always wondered why people call the Spurs a boring team. Sure, freewheeling offense makes more highlight reels than lockdown defense, but still - boring? Look at our team; when you watch the Spurs play, you're watching:

Easy. They're just too damn good at the little, unimpressive things that result in them winning championships. When my dad plays Scrabble, he doesn't go Kobe Bryant on me with a string of seven-letter monsters; that would be cool, even if I lost. Instead he just picks me apart, leaving me nowhere to play and racking up points with those little bastard words that only he knows. And you know what? It's boring, and it's frustrating. I don't like playing my dad.

I wouldn't want to play the Spurs, either.

That's why the Suns are such whiners, and why they're going to go out of this series in five the way they always do. They really think that they're the better team ("individually") - they put down all the long words, but they can't seem to end the game with more points. So it must be the refs, or it must be that the Spurs fight dirty, right? What else could it be? And what the f*ck is 'qat'?