& Consequences

Photo via Caribb on Flickr

Paul Pierce is the NBA.

Kobe’s not. LeBron’s not. Kareem, Wilt, Russell, Cousy, West, Magic, Bird Jordan, none of them are. They stand out and above, they’re how we define the league through example. It’s defining the collective by the exception.You can’t represent a league that’s seen hundreds of great basketball players come and go through the lens of the very best. You miss the forest for the tallest standing trees. The league’s not defined by the no-names either. The bench players, the garbage men, the end-of-the-bench, they’re part of the tapestry, but that’s like describing a piece of art only by the canvas. Or the wall it hangs on. You’re missing what you remember. And Pierce is the NBA. He’s the kind of player that really makes up the story of the NBA, what it’s been about, it’s best and worst.

His career narrative is more representative of the complexities of how the league holds the majority of its players in retrospect than any auto-play legend. Pierce came out of Inglewood, immersed in Lakers culture and wound up in Boston. A Kansas Jayhawk, member of a high-exposure, strong-legacy school program. It’s a perfect example of the bizarre contrast between the world of high school basketball and college. Why would an Inglewood kid choose to go to Lawrence, Kansas for college? (For that matter, why would anyone? Signed, Missouri graduate of 2004 full of envious hate.) Because that’s how the machine works. He was drafted to the polar opposite team, and slipped five spots, for the prototypical “motivated by falling in the draft” angle.

Years of stellar play on a team that could never get past it. But those really were the hero years for Pierce. Check out the :40 second mark here.

Pierce did his time in the ditch. And that’s key here. If you want to come out smelling well, it’s key to toil on a losing team. And Pierce toiled on a team that walked the perfect balance. He had his share of epic runs in the postseason to get the exposure, but never reached the promised land. The blueprint says toil on a losing team, stick with them, don’t pout, then either be rewarded by being traded (despite your love for the city-yank, yank) or having a legit superstar traded to you. In reality, the parallels between Pierce and Garnett are something to catch and take a gander at. The real difference? Pierce wound up on Legend Celtics, Garnett wound up on Lowly Timberwolves. If Kevin McHale had turned around and switched the deal, landing Pierce to play with KG, how different is the narrative, except for the places switched? (Let’s all take a minute to laugh at the prospect of McHale pulling off that deal — Rockets fans, you don’t get to laugh, that guy gives personnel input for your team now. ) But both are spared the harsh light of examination. No LeBron James treatment for them. Garnett because he did everything possible to win with Minnesota and just couldn’t do it, to the point where he lost his prime. Pierce because he stuck with his team for the duration of his career, bought into the team culture. It should be noted that the summer of 2007 saw a fair number of “could Pierce be traded to the Lakers?” stories percolating from outlets with Celtic ties. The thought being, Pierce was getting tired of the wait, and why not go home and win a title with Kobe?

But that’s not what wound up. And he reached the championship, the career validator with defense, sacrifice, team commitment, and a realization of what has always made the Celtics teams good in the minds of the simplified media, a confused sense of dedication and family. (In reality, it was the realization of Celtics values, but those are actually the idea that you let players do what they do and get out of their way. Auerbach talked about that all the time, it’s how he got through to Russell. Similarly, most of the Celtics coaching was done that season by the Big 3 while Doc tied it together with a pretty ribbon that read “Ubuntu” and didn’t have to worry about managing rotations. This was before he came out of nowhere to wallop Phil Jackson in the Finals which pretty much changed our opinion of him forever, and from that point on became a coach worthy of his acclaim.)

The point to all this? Pierce’s story could have been much different, but it wasn’t, and what’s more NBA than that tale?

***********************************************************

Pierce’s game is authentic. I mean that it’s not riddled with athleticism or brute force. It’s not pure shooting stroke, but it’s also not built entirely on savvy. It’s the synthesis. Kobe Bryant’s game is so complex and charged that it’s barely human. It’s more like watching electricity fly between conductors. But Pierce is brick and mortar. It’s jab and check, move, cajole, then burst, and release.  He drives through the layup, and touches it off like he’s terrified the wind’s going to blow the layup back the other direction. And the spot-up three is territory that falls somewhere between an LOLCat and Edward Hopper. That catch off the curl screen on the perimeter, where the defense catches up,  just two steps back because of the screen spacing, ready for the drive, only to recognize one second too late that Pierce has continued the motion of the catch into a shot, after a half-second delay to freeze the defender? That’s both comic and cruel. You can watch it a dozen times and it’ll still get you.

It’s bizarre what moments antagonists choose to remember. For Pierce it’s the wheelchair incident in the Finals. For Bryant, it’s glares at teammates. Both show a superhuman ability to find terrible shots in key moments and shoot them anyway, then curse and shake their head as if to say “Man, can’t believe THAT 45-foot fadeaway didn’t fall. Sometimes the rim just gets you.” Even better, their supporters immediately say “I don’t care, that’s the shot I want them taking.” Pierce, like Bryant, does have the spot, though. The elbow, naturally. When you have teams jumping to that spot to cut it off like the Heat did in their playoff series, you know you have a rep. But Pierce’s moves are so varied, he could hit them elsewhere. His efficiency at the post is something that gets overlooked. He wound up in the 95th percentile last season. One of my favorite moves is the right block spin and drift shot. He never goes to  his fadeaway from the right block (versus 18 of 35 times he went left shoulder jumper from the left block) and still opponents get dragged into it. If insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result, Pierce is Willy Wonka driving opponents onto the boat. “Just a short ride!”

It’s this combination of touch, shot, form, explosion, conditioning, savvy and skill that makes Pierces such a one-man amalgam for the NBA. He’s iconic in that he’s not iconic in any specific way. His silhouette isn’t a skyhook or a fadeaway. It’s probably just a fist pump.

*****************************************************

Pierce’s ego is also perfectly NBA. Humble by those who came before him but certain there’s none better, day in and day out. He talks about Europe, he’s active in community works. He loves Boston, his home’s in California. He can mock himself for the camera and still believes firmly that there isn’t a badder man out there. Pierce is defined by the NBA, but the NBA’s also defined by Pierce.

He’ll enter the Hall quietly, I’d bet beside a few other Celtics. He’ll be given his moment but probably have to share the spotlight with a bigger star. He’ll be a cult figure kind of name among blogs and analysts as time goes on, but will still flash that championship ring every chance he gets. He’s got his own legend with how he got his nickname, and he’s left his mark on the league.

It’s just important that we stop and notice as he continues to make this league’s history, a workman artist in an artist workman’s world.