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Longform Shoals: The Spurs Give Us No Reason to Care


Bethlehem Shoals writes about the NBA without a conscience and sometimes, he can't be contained. When the hour is right, and the news demands it, you'll get more Shoals than usual. One of these hours has arrived, so here's another installment of Longform Shoals.

While last night's Phoenix win was uplifting, I still dread a San Antonio death march into the Finals. Like I said on Friday, Pistons/Spurs in June would be a disappointing end to the season. I'm sure the San Antonio fan reaction would sound a lot like what you get for accusing Bowen of bush league tactics: "haters, you can't deal with our reign, keep your fun to yourselves WE GET RINGS."

Contrary to popular belief, what makes the Spurs so loathsome isn't the success, or the tempo you think we think they play at. Nor is it the lack of thugs, platinum and guns on their roster. Or even the poor fashion sense on display in the above photo.

It's that they're too professional. Ever wonder why the Warriors and Suns sparked such nationwide interest? It's because both of these teams convinced us they were having a blast. On a fundamental level, the Spurs lack the outward intensity that make for a must-see team. Even that frustrated Horry foul, and the near-brawl that followed, were about as rote as those things get. The experience of watching the Spurs appeals only to Spurs fans, who get rewarded with a win.


The problem starts with their franchise player, the Stone Buddha. To the degree that efficiency and resourcefulness can be mind-blowing to people who aren't economists, Duncan's work in the post is amazing. In this post-Jordan area, only the Big Wall of Meat is a more reliable winner, and Shaq's had some pretty impressive help. But even if you love the game of basketball, watching Duncan is a cold, technical exercise, like seeing an accomplished dentist do his thing.

Then there's the military mood Greg Popovich brings to the team. You know how everyone, including announcers, is shocked that the Spurs can run with the Suns-despite having done so many times now? It's because the unsmiling, overcoached Spurs seem totally at odds with everything we associate with the up-tempo game. Even when they score 120, though, their body language says half-court grind.

Manu Ginobili's 2005 postseason was positively electric, but Pop had other plans. That whole spring and summer, we heard how the coach was vexed by Manu's independent decision-making. Since then, he has become less engaging to watch.

In the open court, Tony Parker is every bit as fast as Barbosa, Devin Harris, Iverson, or T.J. Ford. The more he's tailored his game to avoid Pop's wrath, though, the less thrilling it is when he busts out ahead of the pack. That kind of speed should give the viewer goose bumps, not just signal a surefire basket.

Bruce Bowen's being dirty isn't a big deal to me, but his aw-shucks demeanor is. On a pure skill level, Raja Bell is a very similar player: lockdown defender, challenges to top scorers like Kobe, not above getting a little too physical, reliable for the open three. The difference? Raja's a warrior, a fiery player who pours his heart and soul into every possession--and can make critics into fans. Bowen messes with the opposing team with a blank expression on his face, one that only lets up when it's time to complain to the refs.

I know, I know. I'm jealous. I don't get that basketball's about winning and losing. Still, the Shaq/Kobe Lakers were better than Duncan's Spurs have ever been. They crushed everything in their path, spread drama everywhere, and were a thrill to despise. The Spurs may rack up wins and make San Antonio happy, but the Lakers did so while captivating the entire country. The Lakers had haters; outside of their home city, the Spurs inspire nothing but a collective groan.

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