If I've learned anything in my life as a sports fan, it's that sports reporters are predisposed towards hyperbole. In an era of around the clock sports coverage, where the writers have become entertainers, these ink slingers frequently resort to making absurd exaggerations and expressing intentionally contrarian viewpoints to sell print and boost ratings (read: Woody Paige/Skip "Fego" Bayless). It's simple--an article that annoints Bryce Harper as "The Best Prospect Ever" is always going to get more attention than one that merely touts him as "A Really Good Prospect." Hell, even in writing for a blog with virtually no readership, I feel the urge to juice up my subject's statures to make them seem more relevant.
I realize that what I write next may come off as more of the same--another piece of Rick Reillyesque bombast to burnish the memory of some undeserving millionaire has-been. The difference in this case is that I mean everything I am about to say and the subject really deserves the praise. It's fitting that the most sincere piece I'll ever write for this site is a paean to the white knight of the NBA (and my childhood idol), the virtuous David Robinson.
On a night that saw petulant Michael Jordan enter the Hall of Fame, still with several very obvious chips on his shoulder, Robinson, as always, flew under the radar, simply offering a genuine thanks to his teammates and words of encouragement for his family. Though Robinson fans (all three of us) may feel slighted by Michael Jordan stealing the spotlight in Springfield, I did not take umbrage at the The Admiral's overshadowing. Jordan's contributions both to the game of basketball and its globalization are innumerable, and as such his enshrinement into the basketball hall of immortals deserves all the attention it can get. While there is little debate that MJ is the best player the league has ever seen, Robinson and Jordan's respective actions this weekend confirmed to me what I've always suspected--that David Robinson is the best man the league has ever seen.
Aside from their accomplishments as 2 of the 50 best players in NBA history, the two men could not be more different. Michael Jordan is the tongue-wagging face of the Nike juggernaut, a hyper-competitive basketball machine. Much has been made of the fact that throughout his life, Jordan has avoided publicly expressing his opinions, political or otherwise, for fear of alienating his sponsors. Robinson, on the other hand, was nice to a fault, often criticized for not being competitive enough and lacking the killer instinct to truly become the elite player in the NBA. He was also more outspoken about issues of religion and faith, much to the chagrin of his NBA contemporaries, like Charles Barkley and Dennis Rodman. These differences were apparent even in their acceptance speeches at the Hall of Fame--with Jordan's delivery snarling and vindictive (Part I here), while Robinson was markedly positive and genuinely grateful to everyone in attendance. (See it here)
Of course, no one would argue that they'd rather have David Robinson than Michael Jordan on the court, but in a debate about whom to build a franchise around, I might just pick #50 with the Popeye biceps. What would make me say this?:
David Robinson was drafted out of the Naval Academy in 1987 despite the fact that A) He would have to serve out a two year Navy commitment prior to entering the NBA and B) If he chose not to sign a contract with the Spurs, he would instantly become a free agent. During this time, the Lakers, the Showtime Lakers of Magic "Magic's" Johnson, Kareem Abdul Jabbar and Kurt Rambis' rec specs expressed interest in David Robinson should he have chosen to become a free agent. Robinson instead decided to honor his commitment to the Navy and to the Spurs, joining a floundering team that was on the verge of folding. An instant impact rookie, Robinson led the Spurs to the (since twice broken) largest single season improvement in record, going from 21-61 to 56-26 and a birth in the Western Conference semi-finals.
Robinson made the Spurs one of the 90's most consistent teams, missing the playoffs only once, when a serious injury in the 96/97 season sidelined him for all but a handful of games, a season that ultimately culminated in the Spurs obtaining the asset, Tim Duncan. While many will criticize the fact that Robinson never piloted the Spurs into a legitimate run for the championship without Duncan, his excellence should not be underestimated. Undoubtedly one of the top centers of his era, Robinson is the only player in NBA history to win the Rebounding, Blocked Shots, and Scoring Titles and Rookie of the Year, Defensive Player of the Year and MVP.
I could espouse more on Robinson's measurables and statistical dominance, but that does not really cut to the heart of the matter, as his most important contributions go beyond the court. Robinson's discipline and air of professionalism transformed the Spurs from a middling, irrelevant team in basketball purgatory into perhaps the best franchise in professional sports, rivaled by only the New England Patriots.
Even now, years after he played his final game, you can see the hand of Robinson in everything the Spurs do. From superstar Manu Ginobili gladly coming off the bench, to Bruce Bowen's extensive charity work every Spurs player shares Robinson's grounded perspective--the idea that "there's more to the team than just me"--that "there's more to life than basketball." Really, what other superstar from this era could have played such an instrumental role in the grooming of his own replacement? To do so requires an impressive amount of humility and objectivity in the NBA's me-first world of inflated egos. Virtually everyone on the Spurs now shares this outlook, with many players, like Antonio Mcdyess, willingly taking less money to become part of the winning machine.
It may sound silly, but most telling signs of Robinson's greatness is the fact that the team has hardly missed a beat since his retirement. He gave the team a philosophy that was sustainable even without him motoring up and down the court. Michael Jordan may have made his Bulls teams great, but David Robinson has made the Spurs franchise great. Just think about what Jordan has left in his wake, two franchises (the Bulls and Wizards) that are just now getting over the Jordan hangover, and another in the Bobcats that can list Jordan amongst its braintrust, but has little else to show for itself.
While Jordan in his prime gave Bulls fans plenty of reasons to love him, his tenures in D.C. and Charlotte have been decidedly less popular. It has been said that for David Robinson's retirement gift, a hat was passed around the locker room to make a donation to Carver Academy, the school for underprivileged San Antonio students that Robinson founded and in which he has invested millions of dollars. The players ultimately gathered $100,000. In contrast, upon retiring for the third, and final, time Jordan's teammates on the Wizards reportedly refused to even give him a gift.
I'd gladly fluff DRob up more, but I'd rather leave you guys with something more indelible, something a little more visceral. So here it is, my Citizen Kane, my Magnum Opus for the best biceps in NBA history, here's to you Admiral:
Monday, September 14, 2009
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Great mixtape, good post, interesting statistical comparison.
ReplyDeleteMy two cents:
It's hard--really, really hard--to build a case that David Robinson was better than Hakeem Olajuwon. Kevin Pelton's done some solid work here, and his methods seem pretty sound, but he completely overlooks one key aspect of the comparison: how the players performed against each other.
When comparing baseball players, it's totally irrelevant how they fared head-to-head, because obviously they aren't actually facing each other--hitters face pitchers, pitchers face hitters, and comparing hitters to pitchers is something of an apples to oranges game.
Similarly, in football, offensive players don't compete directly with one another. Offense competes against defense, defense against offense. If the Patriots are playing the Colts, Tom Brady and Peyton Manning are never going to see the field together, so it's misguided to read too much into how they performed against each other.
Basketball is different. Players at the same position are competing directly against one another on offense and defense. Obviously, the rest of the players on the court influence each individual match up, but less so than in other sports.
From 89-90 to 95-96, the overlap of each players respective peak, Robinson and Olajuwon faced off 37 times, including the memorable 1995 Western Conference Finals.
The Spurs have a tidy edge in these games, 21-16, although the Rockets won their only playoff series. How did the two centers stack up? Here are Robinson's per game averages on left, Olajuwon's on right:
PTS: 22.1 - 26.6
REB: 11.8 - 12.2
AST: 3.1 - 3.5
STL: 2.1 - 1.9
BLK: 3.5 - 3.7
TOV: 3.7 - 3.2
While these stats are pretty comparable, Olajuwon scored quite a few more points, and has marginal advantages in almost every other category. Also, if we privilege playoff stats at all, Olajuwon's advantage only grows.
Verdict: Robinson deserves this post, but I'm not buying Pelton's argument. Olajuwon was THE center in the Western Conference in the 90s, bar none.
I totally, completely, 100% concur with LNW. Although his English was a little more broken and his biceps a little less taut, Olajuwon will always be center #1 of my youth/life. My dad, a pragmatist and corporate man, taught me at a young age the importance of David Robinson's education, loyalty, and service. He would always make me watch the Robinson saxophone montages and explain to me that he was a great American. For that I will always hold Robinson in the highest regard outside of the sport of basketball.
ReplyDeleteNow my thoughts on the HOF speeches.
J.A. Adande wrote a piece on ESPN that captured most of my feelings. His main point was that it was Jordan's EGO and charisma that made us fall in love with him on the basketball court and it is that same competitive fire that he lives every day with that he conveyed in his speech. You can hate him for being "vindictive" but don't hate him for being raw, for being himself. Jordan may have been the epitome of a narcissist but when he was winning and hitting dagger after dagger at the buzzer you never heard anyone say he was selfish, including his teammates. Jordan went as far as to recall a conversation he had with Tex Winter back in the early 90's. Tex said, "Michael, there's no I in TEAM." Jordan retorted with "Ya, but there is an I in win." That's an entertainer.
Robinson probably got Duncan hooked on Xanax.