Phoenix Suns Postmortem
Many thoughts float in my head now that Phoenix has been eliminated from the playoffs. I haven't rooted for a team this earnestly and delved into understanding its players and its strategies since... probably the Olajuwon-era Rockets. Back then, I even had one of my passwords as 'Olajuwon'.
It's so difficult to root for one team for an extended period of time in today's free agent driven market. Call me disloyal, I don't care. I'm loyal to the sports I follow, and the players that play them. Teams are thrown together and torn apart too quickly. One year, the Florida Marlins win the World Series, and the next, they are dismantled and finish near the bottom of the division. Stars are born, become identified with a team, and then head for splitsville the moment their contract is up, seeking the highest bidder with little regard for nuisances like team chemistry and winning. Such has become the ecology of professional sports, and so be it. My response is to not be tied down to a home team, because the players certainly don't appear to be either. Only UCLA, my alma mater, which I have a true emotional tie to, will I root for on a consistent basis, but with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Which brings me to the curious case of the 2010 Phoenix Suns. I became a Suns fan ostensibly because I am a Steve Nash fan. He plays the game the right way, and plays it damn well. Just as important, he is a class act off the court, well read, dryly humorous, and heavily involved in the community and philanthropy. Nash plays the game as hard as anybody does and ever did, but he is well-adjusted enough to know how difficult it is to win an NBA championship, and has carved out a full life beyond basketball.
At the press conference right after the deciding game 6, a reporter asked Nash what he thought his chances are going forward given his age and the mileage on his body. He responded, with his well-behaved, irrepressibly cute twin daughters on his lap:
I've known this about Nash for years now and have been his diehard fan for just as long. But what he said, how phenomenal this particular 2010 Suns squad is, is at the crux of my bandwagoning. Players that enjoy playing together comes across obviously on the court. There are always extra passes, more hustle, and zero quit in them even if they're down 20. That's exhibit A. Exhibit B was their bench, which plays together as a unit like no other professional team I've ever seen. It's almost like there are TWO teams on the Suns that play two distinct styles, confounding the well laid plans of the opponent. You've defended well against the pick and rolls of Nash and Stoudemire? Here comes the oddly-rhythmed speed and hustle of Dragic, Barbosa, and Dudley. And just when you finally adjusted to that, back comes the first unit, fresh legs underneath, to run you run you straight out of town.
I mean, that's just flat out fun to watch.
***
Credit the Lakers for winning the series, especially Phil Jackson and Kobe. Very rarely did Bad Kobe show up, where he would, intoxicated by his ability to make impossible jumpers over 100 defenders, take those shots repeatedly until inevitably they start to brick and by then his teammates have stopped caring. Good Kobe was prevalent throughout the series, keeping L.A. in rhythm, staying within the triangle, and countering those massive waves of Suns offense with his own display of scoring prowess when needed.
Phil made numerous little adjustments and finally shattered the zone in Game 6, directing his team to hammer the soft baseline enroute to a 60+ point first half. But his most important contribution was instilled throughout the season--an unwavering commitment from his team to be fundamentally solid. Hard, physical man-to-man defense, always box out, and win the rebounding game. They would have lost the series if not for their crushing advantage on the offensive glass and resulting second chance points, not to mention Artest's heads-up rebound and put-back at the buzzer in Game 5.
I'm convinced if it were not for rebounding, the Suns would have taken it, because despite Amare Stoudemire's astoundingly limp rebounding numbers (3 6 11 8 4 4 for games 1 through 6 respectively, an average of 6 per game), they were in the catbird seat in Game 5, and chopped yet another 18 point lead down to 3 in Game 6. Game 5 was rightly viewed as the true pivot game, and whoever won it would take the series. It was the Suns' best chance, and I remember telling my buddy Leo that if Phoenix was favored by more than a smidge in game 6, gun to my head, I would wager on the Lakers. Of course, they lost it on a blown box-out assignment. Fundamentals pay dividends, or rob you of them, at the most crucial junctures... not to mention a rejuvenated Artest that shot the lights out the next game! Talk about compounding returns.
Stoudemire's lack of rebounding skills is doubly confounding given his freakish strength and leaping ability. I'm critical of a lot of "key stats" that TV analysts spout, because I view most stats as an effect of how the game unfolded, rather than the cause. Look, Steve Nash can't force 10 assists into the box scores if the opponent switches on pick and rolls and stays home on the shooters. The proper response is to drill jumpers in the face of the mismatch. You can't say every time he dishes out 10+ assists, they win, because his assist numbers, or lack thereof, on any given night is an EFFECT, not the CAUSE. It's that way too with points, steals, turnovers, 3-pointers, etc.
Rebounds, on the other hand, I believe you can control to an extent, especially if you are 6'10" Standing Tall And Talented. It should be self explanatory. You're tall, you play above the rim, and you're in the paint most of the time. It's just a matter of discipline and will, and 4 rebounds in 40 minutes just isn't going to get it done in a critical game.
***
This was Stoudemire's contract year, and given his noncommital responses to questions of leaving or staying, it's clear he's looking for a max contract. To Steve Kerr and the Suns: don't do it. No one who gets outrebounded by Steve Nash 5 to 4 in the deciding game of the Western Conference Finals despite possessing a 9 inch advantage in height and genetically gifted fast-twitch muscles deserves the max. They don't need him to win, and it's not even a speculation, because in 2005-2006, he underwent microfracture surgery and missed the entire season. Phoenix won the division and got all the way to the Western Conference Finals in the playoffs anyway. Let him go, and dangle the max to Chris Bosh with the carrot of playing with the best point guard of this generation.
And if he doesn't bite, then to hell with him, and trade for Kevin Love.
It's so difficult to root for one team for an extended period of time in today's free agent driven market. Call me disloyal, I don't care. I'm loyal to the sports I follow, and the players that play them. Teams are thrown together and torn apart too quickly. One year, the Florida Marlins win the World Series, and the next, they are dismantled and finish near the bottom of the division. Stars are born, become identified with a team, and then head for splitsville the moment their contract is up, seeking the highest bidder with little regard for nuisances like team chemistry and winning. Such has become the ecology of professional sports, and so be it. My response is to not be tied down to a home team, because the players certainly don't appear to be either. Only UCLA, my alma mater, which I have a true emotional tie to, will I root for on a consistent basis, but with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Which brings me to the curious case of the 2010 Phoenix Suns. I became a Suns fan ostensibly because I am a Steve Nash fan. He plays the game the right way, and plays it damn well. Just as important, he is a class act off the court, well read, dryly humorous, and heavily involved in the community and philanthropy. Nash plays the game as hard as anybody does and ever did, but he is well-adjusted enough to know how difficult it is to win an NBA championship, and has carved out a full life beyond basketball.
At the press conference right after the deciding game 6, a reporter asked Nash what he thought his chances are going forward given his age and the mileage on his body. He responded, with his well-behaved, irrepressibly cute twin daughters on his lap:
We fell short and it hurts. It hurts a lot. [...] Everyone makes a deal about never making the Finals... well, maybe... maybe I won't. If I play with teams like I played with this year, I'll be satisfied. It's phenomenally rewarding to be a part of a group like this.This is a guy in tune with reality. He is part of a sport that is mercenary in nature, and trapped in a body that cannot cross-over like Chris Paul or leap like Dwight Howard. To disparage his remarks as lacking killer instinct and contrasting it with perhaps someone like Kobe who will blithely state he will not rest or be satisfied unless he wins a championship is irrational. At the end of the day, Steve Nash goes home knowing he gave everything he had, has overachieved given his facilities and his surroundings, and had a damn lot of fun on the way to boot.
I've known this about Nash for years now and have been his diehard fan for just as long. But what he said, how phenomenal this particular 2010 Suns squad is, is at the crux of my bandwagoning. Players that enjoy playing together comes across obviously on the court. There are always extra passes, more hustle, and zero quit in them even if they're down 20. That's exhibit A. Exhibit B was their bench, which plays together as a unit like no other professional team I've ever seen. It's almost like there are TWO teams on the Suns that play two distinct styles, confounding the well laid plans of the opponent. You've defended well against the pick and rolls of Nash and Stoudemire? Here comes the oddly-rhythmed speed and hustle of Dragic, Barbosa, and Dudley. And just when you finally adjusted to that, back comes the first unit, fresh legs underneath, to run you run you straight out of town.
I mean, that's just flat out fun to watch.
***
Credit the Lakers for winning the series, especially Phil Jackson and Kobe. Very rarely did Bad Kobe show up, where he would, intoxicated by his ability to make impossible jumpers over 100 defenders, take those shots repeatedly until inevitably they start to brick and by then his teammates have stopped caring. Good Kobe was prevalent throughout the series, keeping L.A. in rhythm, staying within the triangle, and countering those massive waves of Suns offense with his own display of scoring prowess when needed.
Phil made numerous little adjustments and finally shattered the zone in Game 6, directing his team to hammer the soft baseline enroute to a 60+ point first half. But his most important contribution was instilled throughout the season--an unwavering commitment from his team to be fundamentally solid. Hard, physical man-to-man defense, always box out, and win the rebounding game. They would have lost the series if not for their crushing advantage on the offensive glass and resulting second chance points, not to mention Artest's heads-up rebound and put-back at the buzzer in Game 5.
I'm convinced if it were not for rebounding, the Suns would have taken it, because despite Amare Stoudemire's astoundingly limp rebounding numbers (3 6 11 8 4 4 for games 1 through 6 respectively, an average of 6 per game), they were in the catbird seat in Game 5, and chopped yet another 18 point lead down to 3 in Game 6. Game 5 was rightly viewed as the true pivot game, and whoever won it would take the series. It was the Suns' best chance, and I remember telling my buddy Leo that if Phoenix was favored by more than a smidge in game 6, gun to my head, I would wager on the Lakers. Of course, they lost it on a blown box-out assignment. Fundamentals pay dividends, or rob you of them, at the most crucial junctures... not to mention a rejuvenated Artest that shot the lights out the next game! Talk about compounding returns.
Stoudemire's lack of rebounding skills is doubly confounding given his freakish strength and leaping ability. I'm critical of a lot of "key stats" that TV analysts spout, because I view most stats as an effect of how the game unfolded, rather than the cause. Look, Steve Nash can't force 10 assists into the box scores if the opponent switches on pick and rolls and stays home on the shooters. The proper response is to drill jumpers in the face of the mismatch. You can't say every time he dishes out 10+ assists, they win, because his assist numbers, or lack thereof, on any given night is an EFFECT, not the CAUSE. It's that way too with points, steals, turnovers, 3-pointers, etc.
Rebounds, on the other hand, I believe you can control to an extent, especially if you are 6'10" Standing Tall And Talented. It should be self explanatory. You're tall, you play above the rim, and you're in the paint most of the time. It's just a matter of discipline and will, and 4 rebounds in 40 minutes just isn't going to get it done in a critical game.
***
This was Stoudemire's contract year, and given his noncommital responses to questions of leaving or staying, it's clear he's looking for a max contract. To Steve Kerr and the Suns: don't do it. No one who gets outrebounded by Steve Nash 5 to 4 in the deciding game of the Western Conference Finals despite possessing a 9 inch advantage in height and genetically gifted fast-twitch muscles deserves the max. They don't need him to win, and it's not even a speculation, because in 2005-2006, he underwent microfracture surgery and missed the entire season. Phoenix won the division and got all the way to the Western Conference Finals in the playoffs anyway. Let him go, and dangle the max to Chris Bosh with the carrot of playing with the best point guard of this generation.
And if he doesn't bite, then to hell with him, and trade for Kevin Love.
