A Praiseworthy Canadian

My loyalties did not lie with the Dallas Maverick point guard Steve Nash. Two long haired white guys leading a once struggling franchise back to respectability recalled memories (well, ESPN Classic highlights) of the 1970's, an era to which I did not belong. In my mind, at least, something needed to be corrected. Then came the switch that has haunted one franchise and rejuvenated another. Whether or not Nash would have won consecutive MVPs without D'Antoni's offense is a debate which I will not engage. But after undeniable success that sparked the most exciting team in basketball, I could not and would not rethink my stance on a Canadian soccer player.

Since the '05 season, Deron Williams, Chris Paul and Rajon Rondo have all challenged Nash for the ever vacillating title of best NBA point guard. In every year since their emergence, at least of one these players has, in the eyes of the media, surpassed Nash. Somehow, we have managed to subjugate a two time MVP into a lesser realm in which he is the only member. We all recognize his greatness, yet we can never award him proper praise. It seems that we are always searching, and finding, reasons to reduce his value.

I was part of the problem. I have nothing against the man personally. In fact, I appreciate his media candor and unwillingness to broadcast his wealth or fame. In his own humble and unadulterated way, he is simultaneously one of Nike's most and least recognizable endorsed athletes, a trait most can only hope to acquire. If he had his way, no one would know who he is. He plays the game purely for the pleasure it brings. But despite his commendable outward personality, I had the slightest perception that something was off about his game. It wasn't anything tangible. He can dribble. He has excellent court vision. He's in great shape. He's moderately athletic. He's a knock down shooter, both from the line and beyond the arc. Yet it lingered, directly in front of my face, and I could not see it.

And then it hit me. Well, not so much hit me as slowly nibbled away at me. It's the little things. It's the drives to the lane in which eventually guide him to every corner of the court. It's the precise, left-handed passes off the pick and roll. It's the layups that softly slide off the topmost part of the backboard and fall through the hoop.

To put it simply, he does not play the game like I want him too. Everything he does should fail. He has no pull up jumper, strong drive to the basket, or physicality. He prances on the court, finessing his way in out of men with 7 inches and 100 pounds on him. But that's what makes him so good and fun to watch. He does not possess a single physical advantage over any other NBA player. The one thing he does have, however, is an endless surplus of basketball IQ. And it is this IQ that has turned the relatively unskilled, yet supremely athletic likes of Shawn Marion and Amare Stoudemire into league superstars. Without Nash, Shawn Marion hopelessly wanders on the basketball court. Take away Steve Nash's pick and roll ability, and Amare Stoudemire gets 3-5 less dunks a game, a lower field goal percentage, and less league-wide credibility. The list of teammates Nash has carried includes Jason Richardson, Grant Hill, Boris Diaw, Raja Bell, Leandro Barbosa, Eddie House, Joe Johnson (before superstardom), Robin Lopez and Jared Dudley, just to name a few. Take away Nash, and this team is just as effective as a LeBron-less Cavs.

Careers change in an instant. One Robert Horry hip check, Tim Duncan three pointer and Kobe Bryant fadeaway elbow jumper have left Nash on the wrong side of victory and praise. He doesn't have the killer instinct of Jordan or Kobe. He needs a great supporting cast to be successful. He is just a product of the style of offense he plays in. Let's pretend luck turns his way at least twice more than it has. He's looking at two more opportunities at all title. I cannot promise that he would have seized these opportunities. I can, however, say that it would then be fair to make a true assessment of his career. Now that he has crossed a previously impregnable boundary by reaching the Western Conference Finals, maybe he can have his cake and eat it too.