Book of Basketball

by Simmons Bill

  EXEC: How’s the movie coming?”

  SPIKE: Good, good. Just finished the final cut.

  EXEC: Great! You incorporated the notes from the meteor guys, right?

  SPIKE (smiling): Ummmmm … yeah. Fixed everything.

  EXEC: Fantastic! Can’t wait to see it!

  And that’s how we ended up with the all-time “that should have been better” sports movie. Potential can be a dangerous thing. And yet I digress.96

  62. REGGIE MILLER

  Resume: 15 years, 11 quality, 5 All-Stars … top 15 (’95, ’96, ’98) … 3-year peak: 22–3–3 …

  2-year playoffs peak: 24–3–2, 89 threes, 42% 3FG (33 G) … leader: FT% (5x), threes (2x) …

  Playoffs: 20.6 points, 89% FT (144 G) … 80-plus games (10x) … career: threes (1st), Playoffs threes (1st), 88.8% FT (9th)

  If you’re from Indiana, take a deep breath before we proceed. Then take another one. And another. Think happy thoughts. Get yourself into a good place. I’ll wait for you.

  (Twiddling my thumbs.)

  (Humming happily to myself.)

  You ready? Try not to take the following few paragraphs personally; I have no interest in feuding with Indiana, the same place that gave us Hickory High, David Letterman, Larry Legend and my hypothetical Pyramid. I want you to like this book. Every decision, comment and argument has been carefully made and thought out in an unbiased way (even with regards to that ninny Kareem). Please know that I have nothing against Reggie Miller other than his refusal to sell Marv Albert’s jokes on TNT. That bugs me. Nothing during his career annoyed me other than the way he flopped to get calls (hey, he wasn’t the only one). Even his pansy dance after draining a game-winner against Chicago in the ’98 Eastern Finals didn’t bother me. I liked watching Reggie play. I really did. Which makes what you’re about to read so painful. I’ll even put it in italics to soften the blow a little.

  Reggie Miller was the most overrated “superstar” of the past thirty years.

  (Exhale, people from Indiana. Work with me. We’re gonna get through this. Did I mention that Breaking Away is one of my favorite sports movies?)

  Here are the facts. Reggie played for sixteen seasons (1988 to 2005), his prime coinciding with the weakest stretch of talent since the merger (1994–98). Twenty-one superstars or near-superstars crossed paths with Reggie, all mortal locks for the All-Star team at their peaks, all of whom could be recognized by one name: Jordan, Bird, Barkley, Magic, Isiah, Hakeem, Robinson, Mailman, Moses, Shaq, Kobe, Garnett, Iverson, Payton, Nash, Nowitzki, Stockton, Pippen, Ewing, Duncan and ’Nique. For Reggie to earn the title “superstar,” his career should have been just as successful and substantial as those of everyone else on that list, right? So why did Reggie end up with the lowest number of All-Star Game appearances of anyone on that list (five; nobody else had fewer than seven)? Also, Reggie was the only one who didn’t make at least three combined appearances on first-second-team All-NBA’s. Oh, wait … he didn’t have any.

  Here’s what that means: At no point was Reggie considered one of the NBA’s top ten players for a single season. Nine of his contemporaries at shooting guard made All-NBA (first or second): Jordan, Drexler, Dumars, Latrell Sprewell, Mitch Richmond, Kobe, T-Mac, Iverson and Ray Allen. Reggie only made third-team All-NBA three times (’95, ’96 and ’98). That’s it. And his reputation as a “great” Playoffs player has been slightly overblown. The Pacers were bounced from the first round in his first four trips to the Playoffs. 97 During their extended ’94 Playoffs run, everyone remembers Miller’s trash-talking duel with Spike Lee (25 points in the fourth quarter of Game 5 at MSG), but nobody mentions Game 7, when he went 2-for-10 in the second half, air-balled what would have been the game-winning 20-footer with 5 seconds remaining, then accidentally committed a flagrant foul on John Starks and killed their last chance. 98 During the ’95

  Playoffs, Reggie came up big in Game 7 of the Knicks series (29 points) but no-showed in Game 7

  when Orlando won by 21 points. During the ’99 Eastern Finals, New York’s Allan Houston torched Reggie and the heavily favored Pacers in a deciding Game 6. Like always with beloved athletes, we tend to forget bad memories and remember the good ones. Let the record show that Indiana was 9–15 in elimination games and 3–5 in deciding Game 5’s or Game 7’s during Reggie’s career. I’m just saying. That’s why Miller headlines an extensive group of Guys Who Had Great Careers but Weren’t Quite Franchise Players. On the flip side, Reggie’s flair for The Moment stood out over everyone else from his era except Jordan. We’ll remember him as an accomplished clutch player, as well as a historically good three-point bomber and free throw shooter, someone capable of being the crunch-time scorer on a top-five team (which Indiana was in ’94, ’95, ’98 and ’00). If Indiana was protecting a lead in the final minute, you couldn’t foul Reggie because he was a world-class cooler and a mortal lock to drain both free throws. And nobody—repeat: nobody—received more ridiculous calls than Reggie over the last twelve years, so either the officials enjoyed watching him or David Stern made the desperate order after Jordan’s baseball sabbatical: “We need more superstars—from now on, Reggie Miller gets every call!” 99

  Here’s the problem: superstars affect games even when they’re missing shots, but Reggie was a mediocre defensive player who couldn’t rebound or create shots for teammates, someone who needed an offense constructed in a specific way so he could succeed. Since he couldn’t consistently beat good defenders off the dribble, the Pacers sprinted him around a series of picks—almost like a mouse going through a maze—to spring him for open looks, which meant their big men needed to keep setting picks, their point guard needed to kill time waiting for him to get open … basically, everyone else tailored their games to his game. Can you win a title that way?

  Obviously not. And if you want to get stat-dorky, seriously, how difficult could it be to play 36

  minutes and C-plus defense and finish with a 21–3–3 every night? That’s what Reggie averaged from 1990 to 2001. You can win a title with your second-best guy giving you those stats, but not your best guy. In fairness to Reggie, Indiana always asked him to do too much—at the end of close games, you always knew the ball was going to him, something he embraced and enjoyed, but still. Unlike Stockton, McHale, Worthy, Drexler, DJ and Pippen, Reggie never played with anyone better than him (the biggest reason Indiana never won a title). 100 He wins points for excelling over an exceptionally long period of time, and since he was a unique player, it felt like his historical impact was bigger than it was. Nobody had bigger stones in big moments, a crucial quality that unquestionably lifted his teammates. He made enough game-winners that NBA TV ran a Reggie mini-marathon during the 2005 season. And he pretty much saved professional basketball in Indiana, which is why everyone loves him so much there.

  Still, how does what’s described in the previous paragraph make you a superstar? During his best Playoff run in 1995, Reggie averaged 25.5 points over 17 games as the Pacers fell one game short of the Finals.101 In the 2000 Playoffs, he averaged 24 points over 22 games as the Pacers lost to the Lakers in six. He was what he was: a streaky shooting guard who scared opponents when it mattered but didn’t do much else. On a very good team, he could be the difference between 45

  wins and out in the first round and 55 wins and playing in the third round, which doesn’t make him any different from fifteen other guys of his era. Reggie was really a poor man’s Sam Jones: a genuine asset on a good team, a crunch-time killer and someone who couldn’t win a title unless he played with someone better than him. Does that make you a superstar? I say no. Of course, you might disagree, like my old friend Eric “Toast” Marshall did: “I think it depends on your definition of the word ‘superstar.’ He’s been the marquee player for a good team for seventeen years. That qualifies in my book. He has been a devastating player, one whom the entire other team always has to be conscious of. Someone should do a study on the shooting percentage of the guy guarding Reggie in playoff ga
mes. I’ll bet it’s like 37 percent. That kind of work away from the ball is as valuable as being a great passer or great rebounder because it creates shots for everyone (think Rip Hamilton). Also, the Indiana offense benefited greatly by his movement without the ball. Many mediocre players were successful playing with Reggie. Name one significant player on the team who got better after leaving the Pacers (Best, Davis, Rose, etc). You can’t.”

  All great points. Unfortunately, it’s my book. I say that Reggie wasn’t a superstar. On the other hand, he was memorable enough to earn nearly 1,400 words and become our cutoff guy for Level 1. Now if he’d only start selling Marv’s jokes.

  1. I would have gone with Tom “the Middle Part” Chambers, eventually shortened to just “the Part.”

  2. Bird delighted in torching Chambers, Alex English, Kelly Tripucka and Kiki Vandeweghe. If he had played for a West Coast team in the mid-’80s, you could have added 3 PPG to Bird’s averages from those four guys alone.

  3. His character had an unstoppable dunk move in the Lakers vs. Celtics video game, which counts for … something. Not sure what.

  4. Worthy’s career stats: 17.6 PPG, 5.1 RPG, 52% FG, 77% FT, two third-team All-NBA’s. Chambers’ career stats: 18.1 PPG, 6.1 RPG, 47% FG, 81% FT, two second-team All-NBA’s. I’m just sayin’.

  5. No guard played more than 30 playoff games and averaged more minutes than Jo Jo’s 42.9

  except Allen Iverson, who averaged 45-plus but only played 10-plus playoff games twice. 6. In Game 6 of a ’74 series in Buffalo, Jo Jo got fouled at the buzzer of a tie game, then calmly drained the winning FT (and another for good measure) to clinch the series. Only a Buffalo team could lose like that.

  7. Back in the late ’70s, this was the single best exhibit in the Hall of Fame, as well as the precursor to Chris Connelly’s tearjerker features on SportsCenter. Let’s hope I didn’t give Connelly any ideas. Uh-oh, he’s driving to the cemetery to interview Maurice Stokes’ coffin … somebody stop him!

  8. You might remember Svenson starring as vigilante sheriff Buford Pusser in the classic ’70s action trilogy, Walking Tall. Or maybe you don’t. I just felt like writing the name Buford Pusser. 9. This kid was the real-life Spaulding Smails. There’s a significant chance he drove his family’s boat into a Charlestown pier later that night.

  10. Price would have been a potential Pyramid guy if he hadn’t blown out his knee. Even then, he still made a top five and three top fifteens and brought the Cavs within two wins of the Finals. He gets my vote for Most Underrated Guy of the Nineties.

  11. One of my great regrets in life is that I never had a chance to tell Rick Pitino this story when he was thinking about trading Celtics rookie Chauncey Billups after fifty fucking games. 12. Sikma’s resume: 14 years, 10 quality, 7 All-Stars; starter on 1 champ (’79 Sonics) and 1

  runner-up (’78); 5-year peak: 19–11–4; ’79 playoffs: 15–12–3 (17 G); fourth-best blondafroperm behind Ian Ziering, Larry Bird, and Tweety’s buddy in Bad Boys (narrowly edging Dan Gladden, Wally Backman, and Sid Vicious). When Glenn Close wore a blond perm for The Big Chill, she told her hair stylist, “Give me the Sikma.”

  13. Dickie V. holds a special place in Celtics lore after trading M. L. Carr and two number ones for Bob McAdoo before the 1979–80 season. Boston ended up with the number one overall pick and shipped it to Golden State in the famous Parish/McHale trade. OHHHHH! OHHHHHHHH!

  THAT TRADE WAS AWESOME, BABY! OHHHH-HHH!

  14. In 2009, CP became the first top-ten scorer to lead the league in assists/steals and came within 12 points of becoming the fourth player to average 23-plus points and 11-plus assists in one season. Only 5 players led the NBA in steals and assists since 1974; he did it in consecutive years. In 2009, he even shot 50 percent from the field and 87 percent from the line. If he stays healthy, he could have a 25–12 season with a steals title and 50–40–90 percentages in him. It’s in play. 15. If Kemp was like Roger Bannister breaking the four-minute mile, then Travis Henry brought the sports fertility record down to the 3:35 range when we learned that he’d sired 9 kids by 9

  different women, the highest kids-per-partners rate (100.0) for anyone with more than 7 kids since Elias Sports Bureau started keeping track of this stat in 1973. I’m rooting for 10-for-10 because it would give him a double double.

  16. Moses stopped at the ABA for a year: Kemp enrolled in community college for a year, but too late to play in games.

  17. I just became the first writer ever to use the word “conceived” in a paragraph about Shawn Kemp without mentioning his kids. Thank you.

  18. In retrospect, trading Kemp for Baker was like trading Six Flags stock for AOL stock in 2006. What a debacle.

  19. Poor Kemp went off the deep end Gary Busey-style in Portland. Here’s how I described him in December ’01: “With all the weird faces and gestures Kemp makes, it’s like a constant cry for help. Have you ever been riding the subway when a crazy person jumps on and starts doing Crazy Guy things—loud whoops, deranged eye contact, inexplicable pointing and so on—and everyone moves to the other side of the subway car to get away from him? That’s what Shawn Kemp does during Blazers games. He acts like the crazy guy on the subway.”

  20. Dozens of horrible contracts and free agency decisions followed, and yet it’s weird that we never topped “Let’s dump Moses so we can sign an aging Goodrich and give up two picks, one of which will turn into Magic.”

  21. Fine, I’ll do it. Russell, Chris Bosh, Cunningham, Goodrich, Tiny Archibald (starters); Manu Ginobili (sixth man); Cowens, Michael Redd, Lamar Odom, Sarunas Marciulonis, John Lucas, Lanier (bench). I always wanted a GM to intentionally build a left-handed team because opponents always have trouble remembering that a guy is left-handed. Always. It would be a 25-point advantage each game.

  22. Walter Kennedy handled this situation appallingly. The commish didn’t investigate Connie’s

  “involvement” in the scandal (which amounted to him being given $200, then giving it back) and blindly assumed he was a crook.

  23. Casual NBA fans remember Saba for two things: his unbelievably gigantic head which made him look like a pro wrestler, and his wife getting two DUIs during the height of the Jail Blazers era, allowing everyone to make the “Even the spouses of the players get in trouble on this team!” joke. 24. Dino Radja’s take in ’95: “Without his injuries [Saba] would have been better than David Robinson. Believe me, he was that good. In 1985, he was a beast. He ran the floor like Ralph Sampson. Could shoot the three, dunk. He would have been an NBA All-Star 10 years in a row. It’s true, I tell you.” Okay, Dino, okay! Settle down.

  25. During the ’05 Playoffs, there was confusion about whether we should call Horry “Big Shot Bob” (the prevailing thought) or “Big Shot Rob” (Horry’s preference). I went back and forth and even called him “Big Shot Brob” at one point.

  26. Later, Horry made the pivotal play of the ’07 Suns-Spurs series by knocking Nash into the press table at the end of Game 4, leading to suspensions for Amar’e Stoudemire and Boris Diaw (for coming off the bench). Even washed up, Horry could turn a series around. 27. That didn’t happen. Only in the ’05 Finals did a team win with its best player (Duncan) playing semipoorly, although Detroit’s defense (and the Wallaces) had something to do with it. With the exception of Game 5, all tapes of this series should be destroyed. Like, right now. 28. Rasheed is a great example of the Sliding Doors analogy. If he hadn’t landed on the Pistons, he’d be remembered for the 41-technical season, being the face of the Jail Blazers, and being another “shoulda been better” guy. And if the Pistons hadn’t won the year before, he’d be remembered for leaving Big Shot Rob open.

  29. Cazale played Fredo Corleone and had crucial roles in five movies before dying of cancer: The Godfather, The Godfather II, The Deer Hunter, The Conversation and Dog Day Afternoon. Would you rather have Cazale’s career or be a bigger star who wasn’t respected as much (someone like Patrick Swayze or Rob Lowe)? For me, it’s no contest—I would rather
be Cazale (except for the cancer part), and I would rather be Horry than Karl Malone. Just like Cazale, nobody would have fit in with those Rockets-Lakers-Spurs teams like Horry did, and only true fans appreciate him. So there you go.

  30. Some other members of the Horry/Dogg Hall of Fame: Mario Elie, Danny Ainge, Joe Pantoliano, Claude Lemieux, Don Cheadle, Johnny Marr.

  31. This is a Fox Sports cable show helmed by Chris Rose, a likable talent saddled with a worse supporting cast than Moses with the ’81 Rockets. Usually they give up and just start counting shit down. Wise move.

  32. The famous racist Hawks story: Southerners Pettit and Clyde Lovellette froze out college legend Cleo Hill so blatantly that coach Paul Seymour got fired for standing up to them. Hill was eventually blackballed from the league. See Black Magic for the details. 33. We knew we were in trouble when former teammate Keon Clark called Vince overrated and pointed out that the ’02 Raptors played best without him (a fact, by the way). It’s not like Keon was sitting around taking shots at people; he barely knew where he was half the time. This is the same guy who got arrested for marijuana possession during the summer of ’02, leading to one of my favorite conceivable NBA scenarios ever: Keon’s agent juggling $20 million free agent offers, then getting a phone call from Keon, who tells him, “Um, this is my one phone call, so don’t hang up …”