TIM DUNCAN IS THE ULTIMATE THROWBACK PLAYER-HE PLAYS HARD, RESPECTS HIS ELDERS, KEEPS HIS MOUTH SHUT, AND OH YES, HE WINS.

BY MICHAEL BRADLEY

We aren’t used to this kind of behavior. We want our stars to be boisterous. To scream when they dunk. To pose when they block a shot. To preen when things go well and glower if times get tough. To wiggle. To dance. To act like jerks, if that’s what it takes. Be anything in the post-Jordan NBA—except boring. Make fans snooze, and you might as well check into the John Havlicek Clinic for the Terminally Bland. “Here are your non-baggy shorts, sir. Tonight’s dessert will be tapioca. Again.” It’s a show out there, and only those with the hottest acts get time under the spotlight.

Are you listening, Tim Duncan? Now that you’re the main Spur and one of the five or so elite players in the NBA, it’s time to loosen up. Show us some of that humor that teammates say you unleash away from microphones and adoring fans. Stop being the NBA’s version of dry toast. For God’s sake, man, laugh once in a while. Tell a reporter that nobody can check you. Better yet, rap it out for him. And when Kevin Garnett gets in your face in the opening period of a first-round playoff game and unloads a stream of toxic waste about your game and your manhood, fire back with both barrels. Tell KG that for all his money and smooth moves, he still has to live in ice-cold Minnesota. That just isn’t where it’s going on, no matter what The Artist and Jimmy Jam say. Let us see some passion. Please. The NBA has enough problems without one of its young stars’ choosing to be introspective. Save that stuff for the shrink’s couch. This is entertainment, dammit.

“Tim’s low-key and not full of himself,” says Spurs forward Sean Elliott, who barely moves the Charisma Meter himself. “He doesn’t self-proclaim like a lot of young guys do. He plays like a veteran.”

Yawn. Duncan doesn’t fit into the stereotype of the modern American athletic hero. We should have known that when he decided to spend four years in college rather than enter the NBA draft early. Some guys will only stay in school to move up the lottery ladder. Duncan would have been the first overall pick after his sophomore or junior seasons. He didn’t need 60 more college games to cash in. Truth be told, it was a rotten business decision. Had he joined the League when he first had the chance, Duncan would be earning about $20 mil a season, just like Garnett. Instead, he makes about what KG spends a year on car insurance. But it’s okay with Duncan, because the money will be there, just like the NBA was going to be there whenever he decided to leave Wake Forest. With his degree. Try writing compelling ad copy based on that story. Duncan may have endorsements for shoes, soda and shaving cream, but he has all the magnetism of a monk.

Take the second game of San Antonio’s series with Minnesota. The Spurs couldn’t shoot. They weren’t rebounding. They were making Dean Garrett look like a real center. Through it all, Duncan was a placid presence, moving from end-to-end with his customary head-down gait intact. Oh, he would shake an occasional fist after a nice shot or punctuate a mistake by slamming the ball to the ground, but that was it. The eruptions were contained quickly. Even when he tried to take things over in the fourth, when T-wolves coach Flip Saunders oddly called off the double teams that had reduced Duncan from a low-post force to a human pitch-back, TD still went about the whole thing as if it were practice. He hit bank shots, hooks, fallaways and layups over and around Garnett but showed little sign of the fire that his team lacked. It didn’t help that whenever the Spurs really threatened, Minnesota answered back.

When it was over, Spurs point guard and team evangelist Avery Johnson dutifully explained how a lack of emotion and effort had torpedoed San Antonio. Stoic David Robinson wondered where the passion had gone. Mario Elie just shook his head and pondered what went wrong. And the man who was declared as the new torch-bearer for the team, the man whose very picture on the Alamodome Jumbotron screen inspired the college-style crowd to chant, “M-V-P, M-V-P,” offered only “we played a horrible game” and then was on his way back to Timland, where friends and family are welcomed with jokes and insight from an active mind, and everyone else is shooed away.

"HE'S THE BEST PLAYER IN THE LEAGUE, AND HE'S UNGUARDABLE." --VAN GUNDY

“He comes off quiet in the media and the community, but around me, he’s extremely comfortable and lets himself go,” says backup Spurs point guard Antonio Daniels, Duncan’s closest pal on the team. “The picture Tim puts out in the media is of a laid-back, quiet guy, who’s modest. Around other people, he’s a lot of fun. He tells jokes. He plays video games to win. He’s the same as everybody else.”

By the time Duncan and his Spurs made it through the NBA playoffs—with the first-ever championship by an ABA alum—it was clear Duncan didn’t resemble his peers. At all. His diverse skills were on full display during the post-season, causing most NBA observers to anoint him the league’s top player, despite Karl Malone’s MVP award, despite Shaq’s marketing campaign and despite Duncan’s own charisma deficit. You know New York coach Jeff Van Gundy was impressed. “He’s the best player in the league, and he’s unguardable,” the war-torn boss said before Duncan battered the Knicks in the NBA Finals.

That wasn’t just pre-series hype, designed to inflate Duncan’s ego before an inevitable puncturing. Watching Duncan overwhelm first Los Angeles and then Portland en route to the Finals was something of a revelation for the country and the NBA in general. Here was Duncan, who had labored in something of obscurity in his south Texas confines, terrorizing the league’s beloved Lakers, trashing their stars and ruining the league’s hopes for a fat, demographic-spewing finalist from SoCal. While Shaq and Co. staged a four-game intramural battle to launch the most shots, there was no question who led the Spurs. Duncan took command from the minute the series started and was the main reason (abetted liberally by the Lakers’ own selfishness) for San Antonio’s sweep.

Even though Sean Elliott’s unconscious shooting performance in Game Two of the Western Conference finals series against Portland was huge, Duncan was again the engine that propelled the Spurs’ broom against the Blazers. He continued to make the correct decisions when the double-teams came, and anybody who dared guard him one-on-one was usually humiliated by one of his many moves. He rebounded. He blocked shots. He gave the NBA this year’s answer to the nagging question: “Who will take over for Mike?” Not that he embraced the growing hoopla with anything more than his usual nonchalance. Sometimes, Duncan is so laid-back he should conduct his interviews in a hammock.

Duncan presents the NBA world with something it hasn’t seen for a while. Here is a full-fledged prodigy who doesn’t appear to crave the very benefits of stardom. He likes the money and loves the game, but Duncan doesn’t want to be a part of the chest-thumping, roof-raising fraternity of new players which sneers at the Old Way and asks that America (and perhaps Canada) embraces them for who they are, not for whom they should be. That’s not always the way it works, as the backlash against folks like Kobe Bryant and Allen Iverson indicates. So here we have a player who actually appears to conform to the Establishment’s preferred behavior pattern for NBA stars, and we want him to be like the other guys. How screwed up is that?

Even if Duncan maintains his distance from the public, there is no denying his importance to the San Antonio organization. And yet, after watching the Finals take place in that...barn, it’s hard to believe the team doesn’t have a new arena on the drawing board. That’s a big priority for team chairman Peter Holt, however, who has made few efforts to hide his desire for a fancy-schmancy new building with all the different ways to soak patrons for cash. The Spurs trip to the Finals could lead to a November vote on the money needed for a new home. And some positive words from Duncan about wanting to stick around after his contract expires following the 1999-2000 season could well lead San Antonio citizens to pull the “Yes” lever.

Don’t expect too many long-winded dissertations from Duncan on that or anything else, though. The second-year Spur will talk about his game (somewhat), and nothing more. The guy is egg custard. He is also the most important player on the Spurs right now, something that creates an interesting contrast. The Spurs are stocked with veterans, most of whom are more than willing to speak up. Meanwhile, the new Spur leader keeps it simple. In the locker room, while his teammates dress in the latest fashions right down to their alligator shoes, Duncan shows up for every game and practice in baggy jeans, Nike boots and a T-shirt. “As long as he keeps scoring, he can wear flip-flops and shorts, for all I care,” says the frenetic Elie, whom Duncan calls “Havoc.” It’s almost as if Duncan is trying to create some sort of barrier between himself and his elders. It’s understandable, since how many 23-year-olds really want to be leaders? No, they still have things to learn, and they want to enjoy life without the responsibility that marching in front brings. “When the time is right, he’ll speak up,” Daniels says. “He knows when it’s time to speak and when to hold back.”

This creates a problem. While every Spur player and even coach Gregg Popovich declare that Duncan is now the focus of the team, the focus himself is trying to hide. He leaves the on-court exhortations to Johnson and Elie. He lets others handle the message-sending rough stuff (not that the Spurs are going to bump too many people around). The team is his, but it’s tough to tell whether he wants it. He sure isn’t saying. Although media members surround him whenever he deigns to speak with them, the crush quickly dissipates with each drab utterance. It’s almost as if he sat down next to Bull Durham character Crash Davis and took a seminar in clichés. “We take ’em one game at a time.” “I’m just happy to be here.” Zzzzzzzz. And you know what? Duncan likes it that way. He’s not nearly as surly as he was during his senior season at Wake, when the questions about his decision to stay became so tedious to him that he would greet even the most earnest inquiries of out-of-towners with contempt. It was hard to blame him. How many times can a guy say whether or not he feels like a role model? He was not much better as a Spurs rookie, when every new stop on the NBA brought the same line of interrogation. At least Duncan is cordial now, albeit drab.

So, to quote Strother Martin in Cool Hand Luke, what we have here is a failure to communicate. We the people can’t let Duncan know that our curiosity is honest, and he won’t let us find out what’s really going on in that active mind of his. The good news is that we know some of his story already. He lost his mom at an early age. He was a great swimmer in his native St. Croix until Hurricane Hugo destroyed his community pool in ’89 and led him to the hoop court. He came to Wake Forest as an unpolished pivot and left as the top pick in the ’97 draft. He was the NBA’s Rookie-of-the- Year last season and first-team all-league. He loves knives. He doesn’t like heights or sharks. As for the rest, he ain’t talkin’.


“He’s an introspective person,” Popovich says. “He evaluates situations and people and then reacts. He’s not spontaneous. But Tim is all about winning. He likes to shoot as much as anybody else, but he cares absolutely nothing about statistics and awards.”

Despite his relative youth, Duncan is one of the most polished low-post players in the league. And he’s passed Robinson as the most valuable Spur.

“It’s hard to go from being the center of attention to not,” Robinson says. “You like to be getting the ball all the time and getting 26 points and 15 rebounds every night. But I want to win games. I did it the other way for nine years, and I didn’t win a championship.”

Duncan may not yet command attention like Shaq or Zo, who draw fans’ eyes merely by stepping on the court, but he certainly produces. His jump hook, turnaround jumper and drop-step moves make him an impossible assignment. He can step outside and drill the J and is an effective offensive rebounder, thanks to his quickness. He runs the floor like a small forward. You don’t follow his every move, but when he gets the ball, it’s a pleasure to watch him work. Even KG understood that. “There was a point in the fourth quarter when we looked at each other and kind of winked,” he said about the final act of Game Two, when the two were trading hoops. “We said, ‘Good shot’ to each other. Tim is really good.”

And getting better. Duncan’s biggest improvement has been his low-post passing. As the Spurs’ first option, he gets double-teamed as soon as he gets the ball. Last season, he tried to split the tandems. Earlier this year, he made unsuccessful passes from the post. Now, he finds the open man. “Some people want to hold it too long and try to do it themselves,” Popovich says. “Some people can’t react quickly. Some can’t read where the double-team is coming from. Tim can do all three.”

If the Spurs had any full-fledged outside threats, (sorry, Jaren) their two-man game would be lethal. They don’t, so it isn’t. Duncan, however, keeps on making the right play whenever the double-team comes.

“I can find people now,” Duncan says. “With experience, I’m getting better and better. My turnovers are going down. I was pretty horrendous early in the season. It has a lot to do with experience. You go down there, and you have it [double-teams] done to you again and again, you have to get better at passing out of them.

“You want to make them pay.”

Thanks for sharing, Tim. Duncan is becoming a better player with every practice and game. Pretty soon, he’ll have all the statistical evidence of stardom that a player could possibly need. But there’s also that other side. Perhaps with a few more years in the league, he’ll develop the charisma necessary to become a full-fledged NBA-style star, on and off the court. Until then, however, we must recognize that Duncan is practically all substance, a rare phenomenon in this flashy world. Maybe we’re all just a little disappointed. After all these years of wishing for a return to old-time athletes, we find that our nostalgic world isn’t all that interesting. Truth be told, it never is. Duncan is young, smart and a great basketball player. All that other stuff may never come. That’s fine, since vanilla pudding tastes pretty good every now and then.

Even in the NBA.

https://www.chinaspurs.com/forum/showthread.php?t=11374&highlight=%CD%F5%C5%C6

应该也是 Sports Illustrated Magazine 的文章。

Michael Bradley 的文风不错，读着很有味道。

Tim Duncan: Freedom from Expression
FREEDOM FROM EXPRESSION

TIM DUNCAN IS THE ULTIMATE THROWBACK PLAYER-HE PLAYS HARD, RESPECTS HIS ELDERS, KEEPS HIS MOUTH SHUT, AND OH YES, HE WINS.

BY MICHAEL BRADLEY
Tim Duncan是那个终极可考古的旧式球员。努力，敬老，寡言，然后，成功。
MICHAEL BRADLEY评价道。

We aren’t used to this kind of behavior. We want our stars to be boisterous. To scream when they dunk. To pose when they block a shot. To preen when things go well and glower if times get tough. To wiggle. To dance. To act like jerks, if that’s what it takes. Be anything in the post-Jordan NBA—except boring. Make fans snooze, and you might as well check into the John Havlicek Clinic for the Terminally Bland. “Here are your non-baggy shorts, sir. Tonight’s dessert will be tapioca. Again.” It’s a show out there, and only those with the hottest acts get time under the spotlight.
我们不在习惯这种类型。我们期待球星们激情洋溢。扣篮后要大叫。封盖后要摆POSE。顺利的时候要洋洋得意，艰难的时候要怒目而视。要踌躇，也要扭动身姿。如果说这些‘要’带来什么，那么就是个极客。后乔丹时代，什么都要有，刨去无聊这个词汇。如何让粉丝们打发掉日子，也许你可以去考察下海大侠的诊所，超级无趣。“先生，这是你的紧身裤。今晚上的甜点将会是树薯粉，依然如旧。“而这里是个秀场，只有那些火热的表演能在镁光灯下闪亮。

Are you listening, Tim Duncan? Now that you’re the main Spur and one of the five or so elite players in the NBA, it’s time to loosen up. Show us some of that humor that teammates say you unleash away from microphones and adoring fans. Stop being the NBA’s version of dry toast. For God’s sake, man, laugh once in a while. Tell a reporter that nobody can check you. Better yet, rap it out for him. And when Kevin Garnett gets in your face in the opening period of a first-round playoff game and unloads a stream of toxic waste about your game and your manhood, fire back with both barrels. Tell KG that for all his money and smooth moves, he still has to live in ice-cold Minnesota. That just isn’t where it’s going on, no matter what The Artist and Jimmy Jam say. Let us see some passion. Please. The NBA has enough problems without one of its young stars’ choosing to be introspective. Save that stuff for the shrink’s couch. This is entertainment, dammit.
你在听么，Tim Duncan？这会儿，你是Spur家的主人，NBA五大高手之一，精英中的精英。是时候松口气了。给我们秀秀那些幽默把，你得队友们不是常常提到么，就是在电话里和面对铁粉的哪些哈。别再做NBA下的标志性干面包了。给上帝个面子，伙计，不时笑笑哈。告诉那些播音你是最好的。错！唱给他们，以说唱的形式。在和Kevin Garneet季后赛第一次相遇的时候，他在你头上得分侮辱你和你的队伍，回击他。告诉KG，带上他的钱和身手，他依然还得住在冰冻的明尼苏达。只不过，这些通通都没在发生，尽管艺术家JIMMY JAM一直喋喋不休。来些怒吼吧，求你了。NBA问题够多了，缺就缺在年轻球员能够自己内省。Save that stuff for the shrink’s couch.都是在玩，靠啊。

“Tim’s low-key and not full of himself,” says Spurs forward Sean Elliott, who barely moves the Charisma Meter himself. “He doesn’t self-proclaim like a lot of young guys do. He plays like a veteran.”
”TIM是个LOW-KEY，你们看到的都不是他，“马刺前锋SEAN ELLIOTT（这个家伙很少自己MOVE THE CHARISMAMEETER。）常说”他跟很多年轻人不一样，不SELF-PROCLAIM。他很老练。“

Yawn. Duncan doesn’t fit into the stereotype of the modern American athletic hero. We should have known that when he decided to spend four years in college rather than enter the NBA draft early. Some guys will only stay in school to move up the lottery ladder. Duncan would have been the first overall pick after his sophomore or junior seasons. He didn’t need 60 more college games to cash in. Truth be told, it was a rotten business decision. Had he joined the League when he first had the chance, Duncan would be earning about $20 mil a season, just like Garnett. Instead, he makes about what KG spends a year on car insurance. But it’s okay with Duncan, because the money will be there, just like the NBA was going to be there whenever he decided to leave Wake Forest. With his degree. Try writing compelling ad copy based on that story. Duncan may have endorsements for shoes, soda and shaving cream, but he has all the magnetism of a monk.
YAWN。Duncan跟当下的运动英雄们不是一个类型。我们本应该已经意识到这一点了，就在他决定推迟参加选秀的时候（他选择了去读完大学四年）。一些人呆在学校是为了观望选秀名次。Duncan，在大二和大三的时候，已经一直是状元的不二人选。为了再升名次再打60场球，没可能的。其实，这是一个 ROTTEN商业决定哦。如果他选择早早放弃学业，就能一赛季2K万刀啦，就像Garnett那样。恰恰相反，他的收入跟KG每年花在车 INSURANCE差不多。这个，对Duncan来说，可以接受。因为钱是早晚的事情，进入NBA也是如此。想想自己学历，他可以试着写 COMPELLING AD COPY，就讲那个故事。DUNCAN也许可以有ENDORSEMENTS用到鞋上，SODA上和SHAVING SCREAM上，不过他把这些都作为了MONK。

Take the second game of San Antonio’s series with Minnesota. The Spurs couldn’t shoot. They weren’t rebounding. They were making Dean Garrett look like a real center. Through it all, Duncan was a placid presence, moving from end-to-end with his customary head-down gait intact. Oh, he would shake an occasional fist after a nice shot or punctuate a mistake by slamming the ball to the ground, but that was it. The eruptions were contained quickly. Even when he tried to take things over in the fourth, when T-wolves coach Flip Saunders oddly called off the double teams that had reduced Duncan from a low-post force to a human pitch-back, TD still went about the whole thing as if it were practice. He hit bank shots, hooks, fallaways and layups over and around Garnett but showed little sign of the fire that his team lacked. It didn’t help that whenever the Spurs really threatened, Minnesota answered back.
来看下和MINNESOTA的第二个系列赛。马刺找不着出手机会。抢篮板也没谱。看上去DEAN GARRNETT是个真正的中锋。自始至终，DUNCAN都是一个PLACID的表情，GAIT INTACT头低低的从一头跑到另一头。哦，也许在漂亮进球后可以SHAKE AN OCCASIONNAL，或者SLAMMING THE BALL到地板上以示PUNCTUATE MISTAKE，不过都没有。很快ERUPTION就CONTAINED了。即便，他曾试图在第四节接管比赛。那会儿，T狼的教练FLIP SAUNDERS意外的取消了包夹，TD那时就像训练般完成了一系列的低位进攻。擦板投篮，勾手，后仰跳投，在GARNNETT头上上篮得分，与平常有丝丝不同，他在显漏一些火气，这些正是
处于沙漠中球队的甘泉。

When it was over, Spurs point guard and team evangelist Avery Johnson dutifully explained how a lack of emotion and effort had torpedoed San Antonio. Stoic David Robinson wondered where the passion had gone. Mario Elie just shook his head and pondered what went wrong. And the man who was declared as the new torch-bearer for the team, the man whose very picture on the Alamodome Jumbotron screen inspired the college-style crowd to chant, “M-V-P, M-V-P,” offered only “we played a horrible game” and then was on his way back to Timland, where friends and family are welcomed with jokes and insight from an active mind, and everyone else is shooed away.
球赛结束的时候，马刺后卫兼球队EVANGELIST AVERY JOHNSON很DUTIFULLY的抱怨SA缺乏EMOTION和EFFORT。STOIC DAVID ROBINSON也想不明白PASSION去哪了。MARIO ELIE只是一直在摇头也想知道那里出了问题。这个家伙，一直被认为是球队行的TORCH-BEARER，很PICTURE的在阿拉莫JUMBOTRON 屏幕上被大学一样的人群们CHANT，‘M-V-P,M-V-P'，仅仅留下一句话’我们打了场臭球‘，之后就扭身走回了自己的世界。在那个世界里，家人和朋友被他拿玩笑开涮，被这个有敏捷头脑的家伙关注着，在这个世界外的人都被SHOOED AWAY。

"HE'S THE BEST PLAYER IN THE LEAGUE, AND HE'S UNGUARDABLE." --VAN GUNDY
”联盟最好的球员，他不可阻挡。“--VAN GUNDY

“He comes off quiet in the media and the community, but around me, he’s extremely comfortable and lets himself go,” says backup Spurs point guard Antonio Daniels, Duncan’s closest pal on the team. “The picture Tim puts out in the media is of a laid-back, quiet guy, who’s modest. Around other people, he’s a lot of fun. He tells jokes. He plays video games to win. He’s the same as everybody else.”

By the time Duncan and his Spurs made it through the NBA playoffs—with the first-ever championship by an ABA alum—it was clear Duncan didn’t resemble his peers. At all. His diverse skills were on full display during the post-season, causing most NBA observers to anoint him the league’s top player, despite Karl Malone’s MVP award, despite Shaq’s marketing campaign and despite Duncan’s own charisma deficit. You know New York coach Jeff Van Gundy was impressed. “He’s the best player in the league, and he’s unguardable,” the war-torn boss said before Duncan battered the Knicks in the NBA Finals.

That wasn’t just pre-series hype, designed to inflate Duncan’s ego before an inevitable puncturing. Watching Duncan overwhelm first Los Angeles and then Portland en route to the Finals was something of a revelation for the country and the NBA in general. Here was Duncan, who had labored in something of obscurity in his south Texas confines, terrorizing the league’s beloved Lakers, trashing their stars and ruining the league’s hopes for a fat, demographic-spewing finalist from SoCal. While Shaq and Co. staged a four-game intramural battle to launch the most shots, there was no question who led the Spurs. Duncan took command from the minute the series started and was the main reason (abetted liberally by the Lakers’ own selfishness) for San Antonio’s sweep.

Even though Sean Elliott’s unconscious shooting performance in Game Two of the Western Conference finals series against Portland was huge, Duncan was again the engine that propelled the Spurs’ broom against the Blazers. He continued to make the correct decisions when the double-teams came, and anybody who dared guard him one-on-one was usually humiliated by one of his many moves. He rebounded. He blocked shots. He gave the NBA this year’s answer to the nagging question: “Who will take over for Mike?” Not that he embraced the growing hoopla with anything more than his usual nonchalance. Sometimes, Duncan is so laid-back he should conduct his interviews in a hammock.

Duncan presents the NBA world with something it hasn’t seen for a while. Here is a full-fledged prodigy who doesn’t appear to crave the very benefits of stardom. He likes the money and loves the game, but Duncan doesn’t want to be a part of the chest-thumping, roof-raising fraternity of new players which sneers at the Old Way and asks that America (and perhaps Canada) embraces them for who they are, not for whom they should be. That’s not always the way it works, as the backlash against folks like Kobe Bryant and Allen Iverson indicates. So here we have a player who actually appears to conform to the Establishment’s preferred behavior pattern for NBA stars, and we want him to be like the other guys. How screwed up is that?

Even if Duncan maintains his distance from the public, there is no denying his importance to the San Antonio organization. And yet, after watching the Finals take place in that...barn, it’s hard to believe the team doesn’t have a new arena on the drawing board. That’s a big priority for team chairman Peter Holt, however, who has made few efforts to hide his desire for a fancy-schmancy new building with all the different ways to soak patrons for cash. The Spurs trip to the Finals could lead to a November vote on the money needed for a new home. And some positive words from Duncan about wanting to stick around after his contract expires following the 1999-2000 season could well lead San Antonio citizens to pull the “Yes” lever.

Don’t expect too many long-winded dissertations from Duncan on that or anything else, though. The second-year Spur will talk about his game (somewhat), and nothing more. The guy is egg custard. He is also the most important player on the Spurs right now, something that creates an interesting contrast. The Spurs are stocked with veterans, most of whom are more than willing to speak up. Meanwhile, the new Spur leader keeps it simple. In the locker room, while his teammates dress in the latest fashions right down to their alligator shoes, Duncan shows up for every game and practice in baggy jeans, Nike boots and a T-shirt. “As long as he keeps scoring, he can wear flip-flops and shorts, for all I care,” says the frenetic Elie, whom Duncan calls “Havoc.” It’s almost as if Duncan is trying to create some sort of barrier between himself and his elders. It’s understandable, since how many 23-year-olds really want to be leaders? No, they still have things to learn, and they want to enjoy life without the responsibility that marching in front brings. “When the time is right, he’ll speak up,” Daniels says. “He knows when it’s time to speak and when to hold back.”

This creates a problem. While every Spur player and even coach Gregg Popovich declare that Duncan is now the focus of the team, the focus himself is trying to hide. He leaves the on-court exhortations to Johnson and Elie. He lets others handle the message-sending rough stuff (not that the Spurs are going to bump too many people around). The team is his, but it’s tough to tell whether he wants it. He sure isn’t saying. Although media members surround him whenever he deigns to speak with them, the crush quickly dissipates with each drab utterance. It’s almost as if he sat down next to Bull Durham character Crash Davis and took a seminar in clichés. “We take ’em one game at a time.” “I’m just happy to be here.” Zzzzzzzz. And you know what? Duncan likes it that way. He’s not nearly as surly as he was during his senior season at Wake, when the questions about his decision to stay became so tedious to him that he would greet even the most earnest inquiries of out-of-towners with contempt. It was hard to blame him. How many times can a guy say whether or not he feels like a role model? He was not much better as a Spurs rookie, when every new stop on the NBA brought the same line of interrogation. At least Duncan is cordial now, albeit drab.

So, to quote Strother Martin in Cool Hand Luke, what we have here is a failure to communicate. We the people can’t let Duncan know that our curiosity is honest, and he won’t let us find out what’s really going on in that active mind of his. The good news is that we know some of his story already. He lost his mom at an early age. He was a great swimmer in his native St. Croix until Hurricane Hugo destroyed his community pool in ’89 and led him to the hoop court. He came to Wake Forest as an unpolished pivot and left as the top pick in the ’97 draft. He was the NBA’s Rookie-of-the- Year last season and first-team all-league. He loves knives. He doesn’t like heights or sharks. As for the rest, he ain’t talkin’.


“He’s an introspective person,” Popovich says. “He evaluates situations and people and then reacts. He’s not spontaneous. But Tim is all about winning. He likes to shoot as much as anybody else, but he cares absolutely nothing about statistics and awards.”

Despite his relative youth, Duncan is one of the most polished low-post players in the league. And he’s passed Robinson as the most valuable Spur.

“It’s hard to go from being the center of attention to not,” Robinson says. “You like to be getting the ball all the time and getting 26 points and 15 rebounds every night. But I want to win games. I did it the other way for nine years, and I didn’t win a championship.”

Duncan may not yet command attention like Shaq or Zo, who draw fans’ eyes merely by stepping on the court, but he certainly produces. His jump hook, turnaround jumper and drop-step moves make him an impossible assignment. He can step outside and drill the J and is an effective offensive rebounder, thanks to his quickness. He runs the floor like a small forward. You don’t follow his every move, but when he gets the ball, it’s a pleasure to watch him work. Even KG understood that. “There was a point in the fourth quarter when we looked at each other and kind of winked,” he said about the final act of Game Two, when the two were trading hoops. “We said, ‘Good shot’ to each other. Tim is really good.”

And getting better. Duncan’s biggest improvement has been his low-post passing. As the Spurs’ first option, he gets double-teamed as soon as he gets the ball. Last season, he tried to split the tandems. Earlier this year, he made unsuccessful passes from the post. Now, he finds the open man. “Some people want to hold it too long and try to do it themselves,” Popovich says. “Some people can’t react quickly. Some can’t read where the double-team is coming from. Tim can do all three.”

If the Spurs had any full-fledged outside threats, (sorry, Jaren) their two-man game would be lethal. They don’t, so it isn’t. Duncan, however, keeps on making the right play whenever the double-team comes.

“I can find people now,” Duncan says. “With experience, I’m getting better and better. My turnovers are going down. I was pretty horrendous early in the season. It has a lot to do with experience. You go down there, and you have it [double-teams] done to you again and again, you have to get better at passing out of them.

“You want to make them pay.”

Thanks for sharing, Tim. Duncan is becoming a better player with every practice and game. Pretty soon, he’ll have all the statistical evidence of stardom that a player could possibly need. But there’s also that other side. Perhaps with a few more years in the league, he’ll develop the charisma necessary to become a full-fledged NBA-style star, on and off the court. Until then, however, we must recognize that Duncan is practically all substance, a rare phenomenon in this flashy world. Maybe we’re all just a little disappointed. After all these years of wishing for a return to old-time athletes, we find that our nostalgic world isn’t all that interesting. Truth be told, it never is. Duncan is young, smart and a great basketball player. All that other stuff may never come. That’s fine, since vanilla pudding tastes pretty good every now and then.

Even in the NBA.

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粗乱的翻译了一些，有时间的话，会继续翻译和润色的。

任何提醒或者帮忙的话，都不胜感激。：）
madong

后MJ时代的NBA，是由TD交接的。

The NBA crisis would begin with Duncanization.