Old Articles

[Fan from VT]

Thanks to Boston winning the title, killing time waiting for the draft by reading older NBA articles has really gained new meaning and enjoyment. Check out this Sporsguy column from back in 2002, that I still distinctly remember reading for the first time back then. Just so much more rewarding and enjoyable in hindsight of what we know now:

http://proxy.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/020503

The important parts:

No. 1: Kevin Garnett
Don Johnson, Philip Michael Thomas
There's a good reason nobody called them Tubbs and Crockett.

For months and months, I've been writing how KG was the greatest Second Banana of all-time, how he wasn't talented enough to carry his own team, how his pricetag ($20 million a year) made it nearly impossible for Minnesota to surround him with the supporting talent to help him in crunch-time (including a much-needed Go-To Guy). I even placed Dirk Nowitzki ahead of KG in my "Who has the highest trade value?" column last month, which generated a staggering amount of "What the hell were you thinking?" e-mails.

Well ... who's laughing now? Huh? Huh? Somewhere along the line, the whole "Is KG really a superstar?" debate became the Story Du Jour of these playoffs, culminating in a spirited discussion between Danny Ainge and the always-incoherent Magic Johnson after one TNT playoff game last week. As Red Auerbach would say, the proof was in the pudding. For the 37th straight season, Minnesota was bounced in Round One of the playoffs. And even if KG submitted his usual gaudy stats (a 20/17 every game), two things hadn't changed: He doesn't make his teammates better, and he can't create his own shot at the end of games.

Back to the Second Banana thing, which I never fully explained last month: Think of Tubbs and Crockett from "Miami Vice." Crockett was the star of the show. He was The Man, the Go-To Guy ... and everyone knew it. But we also knew that you can't carry a show by yourself. So Tubbs' job was to play off Crockett, cover his back, kick him in the butt, provide some laughs, pull off the Jamaican accent from time to time, hook up with any black actress who was appearing on the show, knock the Unintentional Comedy Rating through the roof every so often, and occasionally -- not often, but occasionally -- carry his own episode, just to mix things up.

Could Tubbs have carried his own show? Maybe. It would have been an OK show ... probably would have lasted two or three seasons, before it finally got canceled, depending on his supporting cast. And then Philip Michael Thomas would have been relegated to game shows and infomercials for the rest of his career, which is pretty much what happened, anyway. But at least with "Miami Vice," he was a crucial component of the greatest detective show of the '80s. It wouldn't have been nearly as good without him.

And that's Garnett, in a nutshell. He's like a more talented version of Tubbs. You love him to death, you want him to succeed, he brings a ton to the table ... but he just can't carry his own show. At least not a good one.

That's why, in my opinion, Garnett has a terrific chance to become the greatest complimentary player of the modern era (post-1970). Better than James Worthy (Big Game James, the most underrated player of his generation). Better than Kevin McHale (who would have become the best power forward of all-time if he hadn't broken his foot). Better than Scottie Pippen (whose underappreciated, misunderstood career deserves its own column at some point). Better than Andrew Toney (another guy sidetracked by foot problems). Better than Dave Cowens (who won two titles playing next to John Havlicek). And much better than Penny Hardaway (who would have been the first person mentioned on this list if he didn't come down with prima donna syndrome).

Imagine KG with Kobe, Iverson, T-Mac or Pierce? Hell, imagine him with Baron Davis? Garnett would be making every clutch defensive play, grabbing every rebound, firing the crowd up, keeping everyone's intensity up, tossing up a 20-15 every night, and occasionally -- not often, but occasionally -- carrying his own episode.

Just like Tubbs.

And

No. 6: Pierce
Paul Pierce
Paul Pierce's time has come.

Here's a quick story ...

Last summer, right before Pierce signed his contract extension with the Celtics, I ate dinner with him and a few other people, just a standard get-to-know-you session (the details aren't really important). We spent most of dinner talking about the Celtics, the NBA, the season ahead ... and after a while, it became pretty obvious that Pierce wasn't just a basketball player. He was actually a basketball fan. At one point, I mentioned watching ESPN's "SportsCentury" show about Isiah Thomas that week and Pierce interrupted me.

"I saw that," Pierce said, his eyes lighting up. "Did you see the 'Behind The Glory' show about Chris Webber?"

I told him that I hadn't seen it.

"You should see it," he said, nodding. "That's a good one, too."

For some reason, I found the whole exchange intriguing. So I started doing some friendly digging. Turns out that Pierce is a basketball junkie. Watches all the playoff games once the Celtics get knocked out. Watches every NBA-related documentary on ESPN and Fox. Watches every old-school NBA game on ESPN Classic. Watches summer league games on ESPN2. Heck, he even coerced the Celtics into sending him game tapes of every Celtics game from the 2001 season, just so he could scout himself.

The guy simply loves basketball. Lives and breathes it. Better yet, unlike most of the guys in the league, he could pick Gus Williams out of a police lineup, he knows Andrew Toney had an unstoppable first step, he knows the Lakers wouldn't have won the '87 title without Mychal Thompson ... he's just a basketball fan who coincidentally happens to play basketball for a living. And he was sitting home last summer, night after night, watching all these games and documentaries, telling himself over and over again, "Some day, it's gonna be me ... some day it's gonna be me."

Anyway, I thought about that dinner during Game 2 of the Sixers series, after Pierce drained a clutch 3 with two minutes left -- the eventual game-winner -- one of those ballsy, breathtaking plays that only the great ones make. And we erupted. We just erupted. Ever since Reggie Lewis died and the Celtics fell apart, we had been waiting for another night like this, another game like this, another player like this. So Philly called a time-out, and everyone remained standing, getting louder and louder, going pretty much insane -- waves of cheers, almost like a Roman coliseum. And Pierce was standing in the middle of it, his arms raised above his head, pumping his fists, nodding and soaking everything in. His time had come.

And that brings us to Friday night. Game 5. Sixers-Celtics. Winner advances, loser goes home. A sold-out crowd ready to raise the roof again. And Paul Pierce standing in the middle of it all, ready to make The Leap, ready to become part of history, ready to shine, ready to realize a dream. Some things are just meant to be.

[youcanthandlethetruth113]

Dang!

I thought this was going to be Simmons' articles bashing the C's, bashing Doc, etc...

Please dig those up for me and post them.

Those are much more enjoyable to read now.