Nash's Hope
Now that I'm writing about sports and books, I get nothing but friendly emails offering to talk about sports and to send me books. When I was writing about politics, I received either pre-Cambrian bile defending Michael Savage, or incomprehensible "satire" from many people, including a guy who called himself "Captain Enron." Well, I prefer not to gaze into the heart of darkness.
Brandon, a reader, writes:
Hello Neal,
I recently watched your Suns complete their weeklong bitch-slap of the Memphis Grizzlies and was left rather impressed with their performance. (Though I’m still not convinced their defense is championship-worthy. They did give up an average of 103 points per game to the Grizz, no?)
I have been enjoying your playoff commentary, but am curious why you haven’t yet tackled the “Steve Nash for MVP” argument. While he’s been chosen by a number of NBA experts as the rightful recipient of the honor (pointing to the Suns’ astounding +33 win differential from last year), there are others that don’t even see him as a top five candidate (pointing to his shoddy defense and his former team’s +6 win differential).
That nerdy sports columnist you referenced last week makes a compelling argument that not only is Steve Nash undeserving of the league MVP, he’s not even the MVP of his own team. Your thoughts?
Let me address your questions one at a time. Giving up 103 points a game, to the "Grizz" or to anyone else, doesn't matter when you're scoring 111 points a game. Defense is relative. For the Suns, defense just means making sure the other team scores fewer points than you. They don't have to play Gregg Popovich-style ball where you need to call a timeout after every basket to make offensive/defensive substitutions. Their strategy is simple: No timeouts, no fouling, just run and shoot, and, on defense, clog the passing lanes and always be ready to back up the guy who's facing down an inside threat. This may be an alien philosophy to people who grew up with the triangle offense on the brain, but it works and there need be no apologies made.
By contrast, look at how the Spurs play ball. Dump it to Duncan on the left side, either in the post or 14 feet away. Stand around while he banks it off the glass. Once in a while, swing the ball around to Horry or Bowen so they can make a dagger three. Watch Tony Parker glower like MC Solaar. Oooh, Tony. Je t'aime! Je t'aime! Admittedly, Manu Ginobili is a lunatic who turns the game inside out every time he touches the ball. That's why I respect and fear the Spurs. Because they are an old-school team with a new-school player. But come on. You know the Spurs are the dark side.
As for the MVP debate, I don't give a knee-high sock who's the MVP. That's like caring about who wins the Best Actress Oscar. Or any Oscar, period. I like it when players from my favorite teams are recognized, but I also dismiss award debates as soap-opera fodder for men. It's pointless gossip that only serves the sports media, which doesn't actually know anything about sports anymore. Let Woody Paige blather about this on Cold Pizza, which is mostly over before I wake up in the morning. I'll stay up late and actually watch the games. The NBA could give the award to Stacey Augmon for all I care.
Boy, that Bulls-Wizards series really has me enthralled. How about next year, every team makes the playoffs, and the first round is best of nine? That's my opinion. Face! You should have one, too. Own it! Pat it and prick it and mark it with B! Put it in the oven for baby and me!
Sorry. I was briefly possessed by Jim Rome there. It won't happen again.