The Book of Basketball (42 page)

DIRK NOWITZKI
(taking the trophy):
Thank you, Mr. Commissioner.

(Stern waves disgustedly at him and walks away.)

And … scene!

That’s pretty much what happened. Never before had a so-recently-disgraced player accepted the trophy in such awkward fashion. Poor Dirk ended up fleeing to Australia to clear his head like Andy Dufresne or something. Now that we’re examining this stuff retroactively, if you’re ignoring my skins match suggestion, then Nash gets the ’07 MVP because he shouldn’t have won in 2005 or 2006 (we’ll get to that), so in a weird
way, he was due even though he
wasn’t
due. I know it’s like voting for a DH to win a baseball MVP, but there’s no other option. You have to believe me.
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CATEGORY 3:
OUTRIGHT TRAVESTIES

We’re counting these down in reverse order from eight to one:

8. Kobe Bryant (2008)

He bitched for a trade and disparaged teammates before the season started. He spent the first few weeks on businesslike cruise control before “embracing” his teammates, then fully committing himself after the Gasol trade. From there, we spent the next two months hearing that it was Kobe’s year, that he was finally “getting it,” that this was the best all-around ball he’d ever played, that he was becoming a leader on and off the court, that he was even going out to dinner with his teammates and picking up checks. This revisionist fairy tale gained steam through the first three rounds before going up in flames during the Finals, when Kobe didn’t play a single great game and stink-bombed a must-win Game 6 (going down with surprising meekness). The Lakers splintered as soon as things got rough, proving something I had been arguing all along: the whole “Kobe is a leader” thing was a complete and total crock.

This should have been Chris Paul’s trophy—nobody meant more to his team or his city—and if not him, then Garnett for salvaging professional basketball in Boston, teaching everyone how to play defense, carrying the
team with unbridled intensity for 82 games, and even convincing James Posey, Eddie House and P. J. Brown to take discounts to play with him. I still can’t believe everyone bought into Kobe’s Bee Ess. Let’s just move on before I punch something.

7. Steve Nash, 2005

A baffling choice that gets more baffling with time. When they changed the hand check rules and ushered in the “let’s make basketball fun again” era, Nash jumped out as Phoenix’s quarterback of a thrilling offense. Everyone (including me) was enthralled that someone had revitalized the Cousy-like potential of the point guard position; at some point, things escalated and writers started throwing him out as an MVP candidate, which initially seemed preposterous because it would have been the first time (a) a table setter won the award; (b) a non-franchise player won the award; and (c) a defensive liability won the award. Those are three pretty big leaps.

Were there racial implications to the Nash/MVP bandwagon? In a roundabout way. It was
fun
to root for Nash. Here was a Canadian dude with floppy hair and a nonstop motor who looked like Kelly Leak, made throwback plays (like his trademark running hook), knew how to handle a fast break, made teammates better and always handled himself with class. His style (unique, exciting) and color (white in a predominantly black league) made him stand out more than anyone else in any given game. Beyond that, he was the league’s biggest new wrinkle and a “Steve Nash is fun to watch, why can’t he be the MVP?” column or radio angle stood out.
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Everything snowballed from there. When Shaq battled minor injuries and Dwyane Wade escalated his game to “poor man’s MJ” heights, there were just enough cracks in Shaq’s MVP campaign that the door opened for Nash, colored by a slew of “It’s been such a delight to watch someone this unselfish who handles himself with so much class” media comments (in columns or on the radio), a nice way of saying, “I’m glad he’s not one of those me-first black guys with tons of tattoos who
pounds his chest after every good play.” By then, the Nash bandwagon was running amok like the runaway train that freed Dr. Richard Kimble in
The Fugitive.
Throw in the NBA’s vested interest in pushing Nash—remember, the guy considered to be the future of the league had been dealing with a rape trial just twelve months before—and as soon as the “nobody else jumps out, I really like watching this guy … fuck it” logic came into play during awards time, just enough people were feeling that way that poor Shaq ended up getting robbed. Our final voting for 2004–5: Nash: 1,066 (65–54–7–1–0); Shaq: 1,032 (58–61–3–3–1); Nowitzki: 349 (0–4–43–30–16); Duncan: 328 (1–0–40–13–19); Iverson: 240 (2–4–20–20–23).
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My vote went to Shaq because of a simple mathematical exercise revolving around two indisputable facts:

1. The Lakers won 57 games in 2004 and 34 games in 2005.
   

2. Miami won 42 games in 2004 and 59 games in 2005.
   

I’m no Bill James, but even I can crack those numbers: Shaq caused a 40-game swing, shifted the balance of power from West to East and would have won the title had Wade not gotten injured with a three-games-to-two lead in the Eastern Finals. As I wrote at the time, “This year has been special in the sense that people
get him
now—he’s had a breakout season, only in the personality sense. Now there isn’t a more beloved, charismatic, entertaining athlete in any sport. When I think of the 2004–2005 season, I’m going to think of Shaq first … and that’s the very definition of an MVP. At least to me.” I still feel that way.

6. Magic Johnson, 1990 MVP

If you ever run into Charles Barkley for any social reason—at a blackjack table, boxing match, Gambler’s Anonymous, wherever—bring up the 1990 MVP race and watch him go. Here’s what he’ll say: “I had the most
first-place votes! That’s the only time that ever happened! First of all, I wanna know how I could get the most first-place votes and not win the award! I think you should only vote for one guy—I don’t get why you have to rank the votes. Number one, they don’t do the Oscars that way. And first of all, either you’re the best guy or you’re not. So number one, if the most people thought I was the best guy, then that makes me the MVP. First of all, if I’m the best guy, then I’m the MVP, anyway. So number one, I should have been the MVP. And second, Magic should give me that damned trophy!”

Here were the three candidates:

Magic: 22–12–7, 79 games, 2,937 minutes, 63 wins … a world-class defensive liability by this point … received credit for keeping L.A. going without Kareem even though they were better off with the Vlade Divac/Mychal Thompson combo … best four teammates: James Worthy, Byron Scott, A. C. Green, Divac … Playoffs: 25–6–13, 49% FG (9 games, second-round loss) … the weakest of his three MVP years.

Barkley: 25–12–4, 1.9 steals, 60% FG, 79 games, 3,085 minutes, 53 wins … below-average defender … best four teammates: Johnny Dawkins, Rick Mahorn, Hersey Hawkins, Mike Gminski … Playoffs: 25–11–6, 54% FG (10 games, second-round loss) … best all-around year to that point.

Jordan: 34–7–6, 2.8 steals, 53% FG, 82 games, 3,197 minutes, 55 wins … league leader in scoring and steals … first-team All-Defense … best four teammates: Scottie Pippen, Horace Grant, Bill Cartwright, John Paxson … Playoffs: 37–7–7, 51% FG (18 games, Eastern Finals loss)

And the voting: Magic: 636 (27–38–15–7–4); Barkley: 614 (38–15–16–14–7); Jordan: 571 (21–25–30–8–5).

Everyone remembers Barkley getting screwed when Jordan had a bigger gripe. Look at his superior offensive numbers and remember that (a) he was the league’s best defensive noncenter and (b) Barkley/Magic
couldn’t guard anyone.
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Why didn’t Jordan cruise to the award? First, the media kept perpetuating the bullshit that Bird and Magic “knew how to win” and Jordan “ didn’t know how to win yet.” (What a farce.) Second, Barkley emerged as somewhat of a hip choice, becoming the Man on a raucous Sixers team that memorably brawled with Detroit on the final night of the season. And third, MJ was still facing a “selfish” rap even though he was making 53% of his shots. Wouldn’t you
want him
shooting as much as possible? When everyone was calling him a ball hog in ’89 and ’90, MJ averaged a combined 7.2 assists, 23.2 field goals and 8.5 free throws per game. In ’93, when everyone claimed he embraced the triangle, trusted his teammates, and all that crap, he averaged 5.5 assists, 25.7 field goals and 7.3 free throws per game. I’d argue that Jordan started cresting in ’88 and it took his underwhelming supporting cast three full years to stop murdering him every spring. He’s my ’90 MVP.

5. Dave Cowens, 1973 MVP

Four factors collided this season: Boston nearly broke the record for regular-season wins by going 68–14 (so everyone felt obligated to vote for a Celtic); Kareem won in ’71 and ’72 (so everyone felt obligated to vote for someone else); the league was heading into the “everyone’s overpaid and doesn’t give a shit” era (so someone as intense as Cowens stood out); and the players (still voting) didn’t realize that Boston shared a division with 21–61 Buffalo and 9–73 Philly (padding their record by going 14–0), whereas Milwaukee finished 60–22 in a tougher division and had the same point differential as Boston. Besides, you couldn’t really pick a best player on those Celtics teams—Cowens (21–16–4 and the rebounding duties), John Havlicek (24–7–7 and the crunch-time duties), and Jo Jo White (19–6–6 and the ballhandling duties) were equally indispensable. It’s hard for me to believe that Cowens was
more
valuable than Havlicek. Even the voting reflects this: Cowens: 444 (67–31–16); Kareem:
339 (44–24–27); Nate Archibald: 319 (44–24–27); Wilt: 123 (12–16–15); Havlicek: 88 (12–16–15).

Sounds like we needed a co-MVPs choice on the ’73 ballot. Meanwhile, the league’s best player (Kareem) averaged a 30–16–5 and provided superior defense for the troubled Bucks (other than a slew of injuries and a suspicious Wali Jones meltdown that led to his release,
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the Big O became the Really Big O), also suffering a personal tragedy when seven coreligionists living in his Washington, D.C., house were murdered by a rival Muslim faction. (A February 19
SI
feature about Kareem was even headlined “Center of a Storm.”) And you know what? The Bucks
still won
sixty. Kareem’s candidacy was crippled by dubious support for Archibald, the first player to lead the league in points and assists—and beyond that, minutes (a jaw-dropping 3,681), field goals, free throws, field goal attempts and free throw attempts—for a 36-win team that missed the playoffs. Can you really be “most valuable” when your team lost 46 freaking games? And don’t get me started on the foolishness of a point guard averaging nearly 27 shots and 10 free throw attempts per game. Isiah could have hogged the ball like that; same for Chris Paul, Kevin Johnson or Tim Hardaway before he blew out his knee. None of them did it. Why?
Because it would have killed their teams! They were point guards!
We haven’t seen anything like Tiny in ’73 before or since and it’s definitely for the best. Anyway, Kareem got robbed.

4. Charles Barkley, 1993 MVP

First, if any of the four media members who gave their ’93 first-place votes to Patrick Ewing are reading right now, please put down this book and spend the next hour trying to ram your head up your ass. You did it in 1993; I want to see you do it again. How can you live with yourself? Second, the quality of the top three in ’93 ranks up there with the races in ’62,
’63, and ’64, as well as the back-to-back Bird-Magic-MJ battles in ’87 and ’88.
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Check out these numbers:

Barkley: 835 votes (59–27–10–2–0): 26–12–5, 52% FG … 62 wins … his greatest all-around season.

Hakeem: 647 (22–42–19–12–2): 26–13–4, 53% FG, 150 steals, 342 blocks (league leader) … first-team All-Defense … 55 wins … his greatest all-around season to that point.

Jordan: 565 (13–21–50–12–2): 33–7–6, 50% FG, 221 steals (league leader) … first-team All-Defense
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… 57 wins … retains alpha dog status for the season.

That’s right, signature seasons from three of the best twenty players ever! Unfortunately, eighty-six voters overlooked the fact that Jordan and Hakeem were two of the most destructive defensive players ever and Barkley couldn’t guard Ron Kovic. Don’t you have two tasks as a basketball team: to score and to stop the other team from scoring? At the time, I would have voted for MJ first, Hakeem second and Barkley third. And I would have been vindicated because Jordan
cremated
the Suns in the ’93 Finals. So there.

3. Steve Nash, 2006 MVP

I picked Nash fifth in my ’06 MVP column, writing, “A cute choice last season, mainly because none of the other candidates stood out and I could see why someone would have been swayed. (Like ordering one of those fancy
foreign beers at a bar, the ones in the heavy green bottles with the 13-letter name that you can’t pronounce, only someone else is drinking it, so you say to yourself, ’Ah, screw it, I’m tired of the beer I always drink, lemme try one of those.’) But this year? I’m not saying he should be ignored, but if you actually end up picking him, either you’re not watching enough basketball or you just want to see a white guy win back-to-back MVP’s.”

Here’s what I wrote in that same column after picking Kobe (edited for space):

You don’t know how much this kills me. Actually, you probably do. But Mamba passes all three MVP questions …
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Answer for Question No. 1

Kobe. The dude scored 62 in three quarters against Dallas, then 81 against Toronto a few weeks later. He’s about to become the fifth player in NBA history to average 35 points a game (along with Wilt, MJ, Elgin and Rick Barry). He made up with Shaq. He made up with Phil. He made up with Nike. He appeared on the cover of
Slam
magazine with a mamba snake wrapped around him. He did everything but make the obligatory cameo on
Will and Grace.
No player took more abuse from writers, broadcasters and radio hosts this season, but Kobe seemed to feed off that negative energy. It was almost Bondsian. And just when it kept seeming like he might wear down, he’d toss up another 50 just to keep you on your toes. Kobe was relentless. That’s the best way to describe him this season.
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