Tim Duncan, superstar. He won't act like it and sometimes doesn't play like it, but he decides how far the Spurs go. In a fierce Game 7 against the Pistons, he decided they'd win the NBA title.
Jun 24, 2005 | There's a guy in the NBA who can stop Tim Duncan. His name is Tim Duncan. When he's passive, waiting for the ball to come to him, fading away from the basket, he's just another player. A great one, but just another one.
That Tim Duncan, who shows up a lot and is good enough to lead the Spurs to a win over most teams most nights, showed up for Game 6 Tuesday night and the Spurs lost to the Pistons.
But when Duncan decides to play ball, to really play, he's a nuclear weapon. In the third quarter of Game 7 Thursday, Duncan decided it was time to play ball, and the Spurs are champions of the NBA, 81-74 winners of a Game 7 that was like a heavyweight title fight held in a phone booth.
"Tim came out huge today," said San Antonio point guard Tony Parker. "He was very focused this morning and he came out and he played like an MVP. He carried us in the third quarter when we were struggling and he made his free throws tonight. That was huge."
Teamwork over superstardom is all the rage in American sports now. Last year's Pistons, the Super Bowl champion New England Patriots and the World Series champion Boston Red Sox have all won with an all for one and one for all vibe, no one bigger than the team, no need for a guy who can sell a trillion pairs of sneakers.
It's a wonderful trend and at first glance, with their humility and teamwork, the Spurs seem to fit right in. But make no mistake, as exciting as Manu Ginobili is and as much as he can take over a game at times, the Spurs are Tim Duncan's team.
Quiet, gracious and thoroughly admirable, Duncan will never act the part of the big stud. Unfortunately, this positive civilian trait becomes a problem on the court. The idea that this athlete or that one is "too nice," lacking the requisite killer instinct -- a charge leveled for years at another great Spur, David Robinson, who ended up with two championships once Duncan came along -- is usually a lot of hooey.
But with Duncan there's something to it. It's not that he's too nice, but that he's too passive. He often seems content to let the game flow to him, to not force things, which is fine if you're a small forward of modest talents, let's say, and it's usually good enough when you're one of the greatest players to ever lace up sneakers, which Duncan is.
But it's not good enough when the other team is the defending champion, probably better this year than last year, and not going to go down without a bitter fight.
The Spurs are a team all right, but they're a team that goes exactly as far as Tim Duncan decides he wants to take them.
And Thursday night, unlike Tuesday, he decided he wanted to take them to the championship.