Arizona's Finest
Your My Favorite Mistake
- Joined
- Jun 11, 2005
- Posts
- 9,709
- Reaction score
- 1
Get well Robin 
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/part2/100416&sportCat=nba
I can prove that chemistry matters
Group 1 (has it): Cleveland, Oklahoma City, Dallas, Atlanta, Portland, Milwaukee, San Antonio and Phoenix.
Group 2 (doesn't have it): Boston, Los Angeles.
Group 3 (unclear): Orlando, Utah, Miami, Charlotte, Chicago, Denver.
Those are the 16 playoff teams. Thought that was interesting. We're clearly gravitating toward some sort of Chemistry Era.
A great example: Wednesday night, Phoenix at Utah. If the Suns lose, they land a 4-seed and a preferable matchup with Denver (which plays an open style that favors Phoenix). If they win, they jump to a 3-seed and a tougher matchup with Portland (more size, slowdown style, great crowd). General manager Steve Kerr heads to the locker room that night thinking, "We should bench the older guys [Nash and Hill], play our subs and settle for the 4-seed." What happens? Everyone wants to play. Better yet, they're excited to play. Kerr talks it over with Alvin Gentry; they decide to go for it and end up winning by 20. In their euphoric locker room afterward, Grant Hill tells Kerr the Suns have better chemistry than any team he's ever played for. And he means it.
Those are the stories I need to hear about my title contenders. As far as I can tell, only six teams have a chance to win the title: Cleveland (the favorite); Dallas, Los Angeles and Orlando (the contenders); Utah (the wild card) and Phoenix (the people's choice). If this truly was a Chemistry Season, that means Cleveland would play the winner of the Dallas-Phoenix Round 2 series in the Finals. Up until Robin Lopez got hurt, I would have picked Phoenix mostly because of Nash and Amare Stoudemire, who quietly spent the past three months becoming the guy who torched Duncan in the 2005 playoffs again. If Lopez can come back for Round 2, this is Nash's best chance for a title. My favorite subplot of the playoffs. See …
I can prove that Steve Nash was a worthy No. 4 MVP choice this year
Name me a star player with a harder job this season. His shooting guard went into a funk for half the season. His sixth man missed half the year. His meal-ticket power forward obsessed over his own future for three months and nearly got dumped at the deadline. He's had two starting centers, and just when the second one was hitting his stride he got knocked out indefinitely. He had to carry the offense in crunch time for half the season (his 82games.com "clutch" numbers: 43.4 points per 48 minutes, compared to 27.5 for Amare); not really his game, and besides, he's too freaking old to do that. Or at least, he should be. None of it mattered. Phoenix won 54 games and has the most momentum of any Western team heading into the playoffs.
The Suns' season could have fallen apart at a bunch of different points. It never did. Nash gets the credit. I remember hearing he re-signed last summer for three more years and thinking, "Why the hell would he do that?" The Suns seemed like a sinking ship. In America, we're used to superstars who find themselves stuck on a sinking ship, then bolt for greener pastures or selfishly demand a trade without considering the ramifications of that request. (Basically, they just announced to their teammates, "I don't think you guys are good enough to play with me." The situation immediately becomes irreparable. They don't care. They just want to leave. It's like self-sabotage.) Nash never would have done that. He's Canadian. He's loyal. He's the leader. Leaders are supposed to lead.
So he stayed, and he led, and they followed, and now they're here.
I thought it was his greatest season because of the degree of difficulty: Thirty-six-year-olds shouldn't be milking their statistical primes (16.5 PPG, 11.0 APG, 51% FG, 43% 3FG, 94% FT, unprecedented numbers for a point guard his age), performing open-heart surgery on teammates (in this case, Amare) and turning fringe playoff teams into explosive contenders. As recently as this winter, Steve Nash probably thought his Finals chances had come and gone, remembered the bad breaks in 2005 (Joe Johnson's broken face), 2006 (Amare's knee), 2007 (the suspensions) and 2008 (Duncan's 3), then said to himself, "I wish I could press the RESET button and get one more chance." Consider it pressed.
Either way, his brilliant 2010 season reinvented him historically. Now we're looking at a career. Ten straight top-notch years, nine 50-win seasons, two MVPs (whether you agreed with the choices or not), seven All-Star games, three first-team All-NBAs, the best shooting percentages in the history of the point guard position, and pole position for the "guard everyone in his generation would have loved playing with most" contest over Kidd. A Finals appearance would be the cherry on the Steve Nash First-Ballot Hall of Famer Sundae. As always, stay tuned.
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/part2/100416&sportCat=nba
I can prove that chemistry matters
Group 1 (has it): Cleveland, Oklahoma City, Dallas, Atlanta, Portland, Milwaukee, San Antonio and Phoenix.
Group 2 (doesn't have it): Boston, Los Angeles.
Group 3 (unclear): Orlando, Utah, Miami, Charlotte, Chicago, Denver.
Those are the 16 playoff teams. Thought that was interesting. We're clearly gravitating toward some sort of Chemistry Era.
A great example: Wednesday night, Phoenix at Utah. If the Suns lose, they land a 4-seed and a preferable matchup with Denver (which plays an open style that favors Phoenix). If they win, they jump to a 3-seed and a tougher matchup with Portland (more size, slowdown style, great crowd). General manager Steve Kerr heads to the locker room that night thinking, "We should bench the older guys [Nash and Hill], play our subs and settle for the 4-seed." What happens? Everyone wants to play. Better yet, they're excited to play. Kerr talks it over with Alvin Gentry; they decide to go for it and end up winning by 20. In their euphoric locker room afterward, Grant Hill tells Kerr the Suns have better chemistry than any team he's ever played for. And he means it.
Those are the stories I need to hear about my title contenders. As far as I can tell, only six teams have a chance to win the title: Cleveland (the favorite); Dallas, Los Angeles and Orlando (the contenders); Utah (the wild card) and Phoenix (the people's choice). If this truly was a Chemistry Season, that means Cleveland would play the winner of the Dallas-Phoenix Round 2 series in the Finals. Up until Robin Lopez got hurt, I would have picked Phoenix mostly because of Nash and Amare Stoudemire, who quietly spent the past three months becoming the guy who torched Duncan in the 2005 playoffs again. If Lopez can come back for Round 2, this is Nash's best chance for a title. My favorite subplot of the playoffs. See …
I can prove that Steve Nash was a worthy No. 4 MVP choice this year
Name me a star player with a harder job this season. His shooting guard went into a funk for half the season. His sixth man missed half the year. His meal-ticket power forward obsessed over his own future for three months and nearly got dumped at the deadline. He's had two starting centers, and just when the second one was hitting his stride he got knocked out indefinitely. He had to carry the offense in crunch time for half the season (his 82games.com "clutch" numbers: 43.4 points per 48 minutes, compared to 27.5 for Amare); not really his game, and besides, he's too freaking old to do that. Or at least, he should be. None of it mattered. Phoenix won 54 games and has the most momentum of any Western team heading into the playoffs.
The Suns' season could have fallen apart at a bunch of different points. It never did. Nash gets the credit. I remember hearing he re-signed last summer for three more years and thinking, "Why the hell would he do that?" The Suns seemed like a sinking ship. In America, we're used to superstars who find themselves stuck on a sinking ship, then bolt for greener pastures or selfishly demand a trade without considering the ramifications of that request. (Basically, they just announced to their teammates, "I don't think you guys are good enough to play with me." The situation immediately becomes irreparable. They don't care. They just want to leave. It's like self-sabotage.) Nash never would have done that. He's Canadian. He's loyal. He's the leader. Leaders are supposed to lead.
So he stayed, and he led, and they followed, and now they're here.
I thought it was his greatest season because of the degree of difficulty: Thirty-six-year-olds shouldn't be milking their statistical primes (16.5 PPG, 11.0 APG, 51% FG, 43% 3FG, 94% FT, unprecedented numbers for a point guard his age), performing open-heart surgery on teammates (in this case, Amare) and turning fringe playoff teams into explosive contenders. As recently as this winter, Steve Nash probably thought his Finals chances had come and gone, remembered the bad breaks in 2005 (Joe Johnson's broken face), 2006 (Amare's knee), 2007 (the suspensions) and 2008 (Duncan's 3), then said to himself, "I wish I could press the RESET button and get one more chance." Consider it pressed.
Either way, his brilliant 2010 season reinvented him historically. Now we're looking at a career. Ten straight top-notch years, nine 50-win seasons, two MVPs (whether you agreed with the choices or not), seven All-Star games, three first-team All-NBAs, the best shooting percentages in the history of the point guard position, and pole position for the "guard everyone in his generation would have loved playing with most" contest over Kidd. A Finals appearance would be the cherry on the Steve Nash First-Ballot Hall of Famer Sundae. As always, stay tuned.
And one more. He didn't bail out or give up during the time between D'Antoni and Gentry, when his skills were stymied.
