Legacies, Narratives, And In Between

Photo via VinothChandar on Flickr

1: a gift by will especially of money or other personal property;

2: something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past <the legacy of the ancient philosophers>

via the online merriam-webster dictionary.

It is impossible to pinpoint a single reason as to why we watch NBA basketball. In such a seemingly objective world – one team wins, 29 teams lose – there is nothing but abject subjectivity. From the team for which we root, to the team that we hate, to the special tingly feeling we get inside whenever something that shouldn’t happen inevitably happens, the entire mechanism is only driven by what we feel for it. The history books say that the Los Angeles Lakers won the title in 2010. Noam Schiller says that Serge Ibaka blocked 7 shots in a playoff game without actually learning how to play basketball, that the Atlanta Hawks feared the Bogut-less deer for 7 disgustingly awful yet delightfully marvelous games, that Goran Dragic single-handedly obliterated the best-run franchise in sports, that the Celtics rose from the ashes.

Over a two-month stretch from April of 2010 to June of 2010 I was berated in the face with millions of storylines completely independent of who actually won which series. This also happened over a two month stretch from April of 2009 to June of 2009. And in 2008. And right now, when we are in the midst of what may prove the greatest postseason ever, and yet I still can’t look forward towards a fantastic Heat-Bulls series without trying to catch a last glance of Chris Paul redefining point guards or Brandon Roy delivering a meniscus-free masterpiece.

But as the playoffs drag further, as we move from 4 games every night to 1 game every two, little tidbits of joy slowly fade into the background and the higher stakes take the forefront. And as we draw closer and closer to the Larry O’Brien trophy, one word is driven into our minds like Derrick Rose into an opposing defense.

Legacy. It’s what Lebron James tarnished when moved to Miami. It’s the Jordan shadow that Kobe Bryant continues to chase. It’s absolutely nothing.

What is it that these players bequeath to us in the first place? It sure isn’t a gift by will, as stated above – unless you are an NBA owner or a direct descendant of an NBA player, the only exchange of money between you and them is you purchasing their merchandise. The thing that these athletes give us while playing a child’s game with 9 other grown men on our television sets is that burst of emotion, that shiver down one’s spine, that something to remember in 20 years from now. And that thing is so subjective, so personal, that arguing over it seems moot.

When I think of Lebron James’ playoff career, I think of how mad I was at myself for falling asleep during the 2^nd quarter of the 48 point game, or the different types of awe on my face when he made the fadeaway 3 against Orlando and when he stood in the corner of the court against Boston as Mo Williams shot and missed over and over again. When I think of Steve Nash, I remember the 23 assist game against the Lakers, or the 2005 series against Dallas which saw him score 48 in Game 4, post a 34-13-12 in Game 5, and a 39-9-12 in a clinching Game 6. I didn’t even remember that the 48 point game came in a loss, just that it came on 20 of 28 shooting, just the insanity that is a short white guy with long hair destroying a team of professional tall guys.

Which of you remembered that Nash series before this paragraph? Is it part of Nash’s “legacy”, or does that include only the inability to beat both the Spurs and the Lakers during the same postseason? I don’t know, who are you asking? More importantly, when are you asking? Because if you asked Dirk Nowitzki in June of 2005, you’d be given a very different answer than Bob McRandomGuy in January of 2032.

We tend to get sucked into narratives, force-feeding stories upon reality. Only when the narrative breaks down, instead of re-examining our reality, we present it as a Shyamalanian twist. Dirk was a loser, and now he beat the Lakers! Lebron couldn’t beat the Celtics, and now he did! The Lakers managed to survive Pau Gasol’s softness for 2 years, now it finally did them in!

Who cares that Dirk has been just as phenomenal since 2008, the burden of the Finals collapse and those We Believe Warriors in his past, as he is right now? Who cares that Lebron has earned playoff success (and yes, also failure) even when the Celtics weren’t involved, or that losing 2 series to the same team over a 3 year stretch is hardly a career defining trend? Who cares that Pau Gasol switching teams shifted the landscape of the entire NBA in a way that, in the past decade, can be rivaled only by the movements of 3 of the best basketball players ever in Shaq, Garnett and Lebron?

There is a reason stories are told with the added benefits of time and perspective. Michael Jordan wasn’t the best basketball player of all time in 1991, even though his best season may have been in the late 80s. Kevin Durant may never have a better season shooting the ball than he did in 2009-2010, and yet only a fool would proclaim his peak behind him.

This isn’t to say that we abandon narratives all together until we have 20 years of hindsight. There is too much joy in celebrating Derrick Rose bring to life a vision of Stephon Marbury without the baggage (THIS IS NOT AN INSULT! IT IS A COMPLIMENT!), or Durant as the evolutionary Gervin, or the Memphis Grizzlies bringing in a 1990s mindset pumped up with insanity, Tony Allen, and a Venezuelan back up point guard to a 2011 NBA – and winning with it.

But we shouldn’t let these narratives override reality. If Rose continues to develop both his outside shot and his defensive game, then a post game once his athleticism leaves as he approaches 30, starts defending 2 guards and becomes more Wade 2.0 than Marbury/Iverson mashup – then our story can change. Gradually, each step more fascinating than the previous one. Then we can sit our grandchildren in our laps and tell them of that 44 point game against Atlanta in 2011, off the heels of Rose’s first MVP season, and the career that followed.

This is a beautiful game. Cherish it for what it is, without pidgeonholing it into a reader-friendly piece. Leave the cynic in you for later, so he can lament Dwight Howard going to the Lakers in return for Andrew Bynum and some knee braces with teddy bears on them for Gilbert Arenas, only to once again become a giddy schoolchild once Blake Griffin starts making the playoffs as well.

Good lord, Blake Griffin in the playoffs. So much for keeping my train of thought.

Point is, in today’s world, short-sightedness is not present, it is encouraged. As we watch perhaps the greatest coach in basketball history walk away from this game with a final bow that is as unfitting to his career’s work as any final bow ever, it is important that we remember to stand back and watch the entire view. Even if that entire view doesn’t summarize itself into a headline that catches the eye. After all, one only needs to watch one game of these playoffs to realize that this game is more than interesting enough to serve as it’s own propaganda. Just do yourself a favor and make sure that game doesn’t involve the Hawks.