All or Nothing: The NBA can’t afford another lockout-shortened season

           We’re in Day 18 of the NBA’s second lockout in 13 years.  While the millionaires continue to stare down the billionaires over revenue percentages and tricky accounting (as evidenced by the exchange between the New York Times and the NBA), there’s one option that needs to be taken off the table: the shortened season. Why is no season better than a shortened season? I present Exhibit Zzzzzz: the San Antonio Spurs.

           The last lockout resulted in a 50-game season that saw the San Antonio Spurs win its first championship in franchise history. The effect that title had on the Spurs and the NBA was both surreal and catastrophic, respectively.

 What people don’t remember, due to time and the Boston Celtics Big 3, is winning a championship is a process. And losing is a big part of that process. Some teams never even get past the losing. They never catch a break and never hoist the O’Brien.

I’m a Suns fan, I know these things. Jazz and Pacers fans know it. Even though they won’t admit it because of a couple of titles they sandwiched in between afros and Watergate, Knicks fans know it, too.

Executive Director of the NBPA Billy Hunter and NBA Commish David Stern during happier times. If this scene doesn't happen again, and soon, a half-season shouldn't be an option.

The lockout-shortened season gave the Spurs a shortcut to a title. They’re the only champions that didn’t play a complete season. A long, arduous season of trials and challenges. The Spurs got to skip 32 spaces in reaching the mountaintop.

Winning a championship gives you something. A swagger. An x-factor. A certain confidence (and perhaps a whistle or two in your favor). The Spurs got all of those things, and got them at a special, discounted, asterisk price. The small-market, shortcut champs went on to win 4 championships in 9 seasons, never repeating as champions. And nearly ruined the league in the process.

From 2002-2010, the San Antonio Spurs played in each of the least-viewed NBA Finals series in that 8-year span, reaching rock bottom when the 2006-07 Spurs versus Cavaliers series drew a 6.2 average – the lowest in NBA Finals history — a full eight seasons after the lockout.

The game’s popularity was low, in part, because the Spurs just weren’t entertaining. They never have been. They aren’t engaging. . Tim Duncan is so bland he makes shashimi seemed over-seasoned. There’s nothing that makes you want to cheer them or jeer them (unless they beat your team en route to a title). No one cares about the Spurs, and the NBA paid for that. At least people love to hate the Miami Heat.

The hate-able Heat and the journeymen Mavericks have all but restored the NBA to Jordan-era dramatics. The only thing better would have been if the aligning stars and Western Arms Race would have resulted in a Lakers vs. Heat NBA Finals, but the Mavericks became the underdog that some people actually loved once they charmed the Mamba and his band of character actors.

It was the most-viewed NBA Finals ever on ABC, with Game 6 drawing a 15.0 rating. But this transition from rocking out to locking out could have horrible effects if there’s a shortened season, mainly because of a stoic star player on boring, small-market team, waiting to take advantage of a potentially shortened season.

No, not the San Antonio Spurs. I’m talking about Kevin Durant (the most prosaic premier player since...Tim Duncan) and the Oklahoma City Thunder. 

See, I think the Thunder are destined to be one of those teams. The one that always competes, but never wins. The one that suffers a major injury in what was supposed to be “their year.” The one that sees its star player suspended in a playoff game for leaving the bench. The one that just can’t get past that great player standing in the way.

Duncan is passing his fireless torch to Kevin Durant. And that could be very, very bad if the NBA plays a shortened season.

However, if they get the shortcut, they may be able to. If Russell Westbrook doesn’t have 82 games to implode. If Kendrick Perkins doesn’t have time to break down. If James Harden doesn’t get a chance to get into and out of a slump. If they never have to do those things, they might topple the older Mavericks, L.A. Lacklusters, and evil Heat and become a perennial powerhouse.

Phil Jackson famously remarked that the Spurs ”needed an asterisk next to their championship.” Spurs fans were outraged. So outraged that years later, they stopped buying tickets to playoff games. It’s true. The Spurs are the only championship-caliber team that I’ve ever seen that doesn’t always sell out playoff games.

Should the Oklahoma City Thunder win an asterisk championship, the NBA might very well dip back into Spurs-era ratings. The Heat, Lakers, and maybe another team will be able to sneak a ring or three in on them, but they’ll be around just long enough to annoy fans and keep them from fully committing to the NBA, season in and season out.

This summer, as the players and owners sit at the bargaining table, I hope they remember the season that spawned a manufactured virus of a dynasty that crippled the league for years. They can’t afford to create another one just as they’ve gotten rid of the old one. This is too important.

If they don’t get this right, the revenue they’re arguing over splitting will be a lot lower than it will be if they do. This is high stakes poker, owners and players. Play the full 82 games or don’t play any at all. Bet it all.  Not crowning a champion is better than crowning the wrong one. Don’t believe me, believe the ratings. Read ‘em and weep.

Crazy Nash Myth more Fiction than Fact

Before I go on to prove that I’m crazy, let me state the obvious: Steve Nash is a great player. No other player in the NBA has his skill set and not since John Stockton have we seen a more masterful ball distributor. And by my account, if you throw stats out the window  and use the eyeball test (which I will continue to do throughout), Nash in his prime (2004-2007) looked better than Stockton.

Steve Nash is a great player whose greatness might be holding him — and his teams — back.

But there is one recurring review of the game’s greatest point guard that’s been like nails on a clipboard for me. It's said so often. I’ve watched Nash’s entire career (I’m a Suns fan who lived in Dallas when he played there, so we have a very close relationship), especially his second stint with the Suns, and I drank the purple and orange kool-aide for a while. But not anymore. This dirty misconception has to be brought to the forefront once and for all. These starting five little words will go unscrutinized no longer.

Steve Nash makes people better. 

          That was hard to type and even harder to believe. Sure, it sounds right. So many players have gone to Phoenix and seen their stats inflated. Shooting percentages go up. Points per game get a boost. In reality, those are the only two statistics that players consistently see increase playing Superfriend alongside the 37-year-old Man of Still. Marginal players like Quentin Richardson, James Jones, Leandro Barbosa, Raja Bell, Jared Dudley, Channing Frye, and even Tim Thomas have ridden Steve’s ball-distributing style and the Suns’ high-octane attack to career years and lucrative deals.

But for every Steve Nash success story, there’s a dark side of Planet Orange. Players get to the Valley of the Sun eager to play with Nash and feed off the easy shots. But the truth is, if you have offensive skills outside of catch-and-shoot, you might as well leave those at Sky Harbor International. Playing alongside Nash means you’d better learn to catch and score or you won’t see the floor. The players he “made better” are the ones who adopted and adapted. But what of the players who have skills beyond that? Or the ones who would benefit from developing more than a catch-and-shoot game?

          What about Amare Stoudemire? Steve Nash spoon-fed him. That’s what we thought when he went to New York. But his scoring increased (while his shooting percentage fell 5%) and he got better at avoiding those offensive fouls when he suddenly had to create his own shots more often. He looks better offensively now than in Phoenix, and that’s not easy for a guy who was already averaging over 20 points per.

          How about Shawn Marion? Yes, the only numbers he has haven't dropped are his age and vertical, but his field goal percentage has actually increased, no longer having to knock down corner 3-pointers. And everyone in Phoenix was shocked when they saw him actually scoring the ball in one-on-one situations against the Miami Heat. We all wondered where that was in 2005. Here’s a clue…it was in Nash’s pocket pass.

          Joe Johnson looked great on the floor with Nash, catching-and-shooting to a career-best 48% from three-point range and serving as the primary ball-handler whenever Nash laid in the corner. That’s when we saw glimpses of the real Joe Johnson. The one Atlanta thought was worth a max deal. I, and his stats, still disagree with those contracts, but it’s no question he’s better now than he was in Phoenix.

          Jason and Quentin Richardson both had decent post games before going to Phoenix. Both players’ post games have since gone milk carton. Robin Lopez is wasting precious years of development trying to learn how to play pick-and-roll with Nash. Marcin Gortat will be the next player who could really benefit from developing some type of low-post game, but won’t have the opportunity as long as Nash runs the show.

Even Shaq (admittedly, by that time, watching him play was like listening to Whitney Houston sing – it’s so painful because you know how great they were) gave up his customary low-post positioning and found himself in the situation he could never even defend: the pick-and-roll. Vince Carter expected to see a scoring increase, but you could see his lack of interest in the game when he was no longer asked to dribble. Ever. A second look at Grant Hill will reveal that his numbers his last year in Orlando were basically the same as they are in Phoenix, so Nash has nothing to do with Hill’s extended success. Then there’s the most damning piece of evidence. It’s the German elephant in the room.

Dirk Nowitzki may have had to be separated from Nash to become the champion and Finals MVP he is today.

If Dirk Nowitzki had played his entire career with Steve Nash, he would not have developed into the unstoppable force that just stormed through the NBA playoffs. Dirk showed so much in the Mavericks’ astonishing championship season. Spin moves to the basket. Fadeaways. Back-to-the-basket. Finding the open man out of the double-team. Herr Clutch. What we saw from Dirk was like nothing we’d seen from him, on that big of a stage, ever.  Had Nash stayed in Dallas, Dirk would still be picking-and-popping his way out of the playoffs year after year. That’s just a guess, but how insane of a guess is it?

I love Steve Nash. He’s one of the great things about sports. I can’t think of a reason anyone wouldn’t like him. He’s like the ice cream of the NBA – even the lactose intolerant people who shouldn’t like it find some kinda way to enjoy it. But his greatness at spoon-feeding teammates has been his biggest weakness – a tragic flaw. Since he’s been making the game “easier” for others, none of his teammates have developed a strong enough skill set to help him and his teams get over the top.

It would be great if Nash could somehow work his way to Miami (Heat sign Chalmers and a big like Dalembert and send both to Phoenix?). It would add a couple years to the career of His Agelessness. He would take some of the pressure to create off of LeBron James and Dwyane Wade when necessary. And he’d finally be what he’d relegated other NBA players to becoming: a spot-up shooter.

If you’ve hung in this long, you’re probably convinced I’m nuts. Insane. Off my rocker. Crazy. But right now, you might be questioning your own sanity. In which case, you’ll need treatment. Watch some Suns highlights. After all, Steve Nash makes people better...right?