Great games don't necessarily have to be close games
Well here we are, Game 6 in what has to be the most confounding NBA final of any of the 12 or so that I’ve seen at least part of.
Four games you’d probably consider blowouts in the first five – although when Game 5 got to a one-point game I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on – and I’m trying to figure out precisely why.
And can’t really.
I guess you could chalk it up to the relative talents of each of the teams, the case can be made that they are two superb clubs and when they get operating at full power, even the best opponent can’t slow them down.
You look at what Miami did when the Big Three were all rolling in that Game 4, they were unstoppable, despite a very good San Antonio defence.
And when the Spurs got Tim Duncan and Tony Parker going early in Game 5 and Manu Ginobili joined the fray, finally, they were at times otherworldly. Toss in the Danny Green phenomenon and it’s a no-brainer who wins.
But for drama?
The only drama we’ve had is wondering which team is going to go on some mind-numbing, game-winning run and when; outside of that Parker circus shot with five seconds left in Game 1, there hasn’t been any of the drama that would make you consider this series a classic.
Yet it is.
We can say with the utmost confidence that when we look back on this series, we’re going to call it one of the best we’ve seen and remember it for its greatness.
Because you don’t need last second heroics for something to become memorable, you don’t need transcendent individual efforts to make something stick in your mind, you don’t need high drama every night out for something to live with you for a long time.
You need two teams with great players operating at top efficiency most of the time.
In those games that haven’t been close, it’s not that one team played horribly, there were still moments when each side was at its very best, it’s just that the winning team went – as the boring, somewhat meaningless cliché goes – to another level.
The Spurs and Heat have each won every game, it’s not that the other team lost it.
It’s not been a classic series in the classic mold, but it has been classic and despite being out on the road for two weeks, I wouldn’t at all mind it coming down to one game Thursday night now.
It’s been too good to end.
I get home to reclaim the car that the newly-licensed Super Son seems to have made his own – and that’s not going to happen too often – and not only is there half a tank of gas like when I left it but this dude’s CD is on the seat.
And if you got a 16-year-old who can’t wait to see Trombone Shorty at the jazz festival, it’s not a bad little life.
Things you hate about travel:
Making a long trek from San Antonio to Toronto through Detroit because you can’t get here from there; blowing off a 2 1-2 layover by writing and bugging people and all of a sudden having to sit for another hour on a plane for some reason known only to the Delta pilots who kept us entirely in the dark until they announced the “little” problem had been solved and we could go.
End of rant.
Now, if Air Canada screws me over this morning, we’re going to have some issues.
Hey, do you think it’s a coincidence that the TOD is rolling since I’ve been paying scant attention?
And you wonder why all of a sudden the pitchers can pitch and the hitters can hit and guys with the gloves can catch the ball.
And you think, hey, maybe the long, long baseball season isn’t quite over; we’re not at July yet and there’s every reason to think they’ll climb legitimately back into some kind of race.
It is the fun of the game, isn’t it? A long season of ups and downs and the one thing you need more than anything is patience.
Fans don’t have nearly enough of it and I wonder how many are now tuning back in after swearing them off in the middle of May.
Fans’ passion is a wonderful thing even if sometimes over-reaction is the norm.
When we were there last week it rained at least once a day, and I mean torrential downpours and not light showers and I fully expect that to happen again.
But someone with the meteorological mind that I don’t possess, please explain this to me:
If it’s about 30-plus and sticky and humid and a thunderstorm blows through, why is it even more sticky and humid after it’s gone.
I just don’t get it but that’s exactly what it’s like in Miami every single day at this time of year.
One more from the finals.
A bunch of us were talking the other night at the hospitality suite because that’s what we do and we figure whoever wins will have beaten its best opponent in any of its appearances in the championship series.
Absolutely true, right?
San Antonio has beaten the Knicks as an eight seed, a so-so Nets team, a pretty good Detroit team and an over-matched Cleveland team; Miami in this run has lost to Dallas and beaten a young Oklahoma City team.
Whoever wins this one – and while I still have Spurs in six, I have a feeling we get a Game 7 – will have truly beaten a very good team.
All right, close to boarding time here, gotta run.
Back to see comments this afternoon, don’t stress if they don’t show until then.