A Hall of Fame
Class Like No Other
(By Michael Wilbon,
Washington Post, September 11, 2009)
It
would be a fabulous team, these four men in their primes playing together. John
Stockton, the all-time NBA assists and steals leader, would be the point man.
Jerry Sloan, a tough guard and nasty defender before he ever became a coach,
would play alongside Stockton
in the back court. David Robinson, a two-time NBA champion who once averaged
29.8 points a game, would be the center. And Michael Jordan, the greatest artist
in the history of team sports, would play small forward. Throw in a savvy enforcer and screen-setter at
power forward, maybe Rick Mahorn, and they'd win the NBA championship every
other year for a decade. And they'd be smart enough to see right past gender
and happily play for an accomplished coach like C. Vivian Stringer, a woman who
took three programs to the NCAA women's Final Four while surviving breast
cancer and raising a daughter disabled by spinal meningitis.
All
Hall of Fame classes are distinguished by nature. As a Pro Football Hall of
Fame voter once said in defending why he voted against some perennial all-pro,
"It's the Hall of Fame, not the Hall of Very Good." Even so, this class is a wow, and not just
because of Jordan, though he still tilts the room. NBA Commissioner David
Stern, in a piece he authored for the Chicago Sun-Times this week, said,
"Michael is transcendent. He is up there with Muhammad Ali and Pele."
The others are more humanly remarkable,
but two -- Robinson and Stockton -- are certainly worthy of standing alongside
Jordan. In fact, they were his teammates on the greatest basketball team ever
assembled, the 1992 U.S.
men's Olympic basketball team. They were late bloomers, all three of them. Stockton played his
college ball at Gonzaga long before the school became a fixture in March
Madness. Bob Knight cut him during the 1984 U.S. Olympic basketball trials and
Sloan, the same Jerry Sloan, wouldn't fully trust him to run the Jazz until his
third season in the NBA.
Robinson
grew up in Manassas, and attended the Naval Academy. I remember, like it was
yesterday, getting a call at my desk in the newsroom from Tom Bates, then the
director of sports information at Navy, who said, "You gotta come see our
center, David Robinson and write about him." I said, "You mean the
skinny left-handed kid from Northern Virginia
who was a freshman last year? What's so special about Robinson? He's a 6-foot-6
center." There was a brief silence,
then Bates said, "He grew five inches over the summer. He's 6-11
now." I drove to Annapolis for the very next
game, and watched Robinson play in person countless time over his final three
years at the Naval
Academy .
Keep
in mind that even though Robinson led Navy to a region final matchup against
Duke in 1986, his junior year, he absolutely played in the shadow of Maryland 's Len Bias and (even more so) Georgetown 's Patrick Ewing. Here's Robinson's
line in his final college game, a first-round NCAA loss in 1987 to Michigan : 40 minutes
played, 22 of 33 from the floor, 50 points, 13 rebounds. Do you know how many
players have had 50 points in a NCAA tournament game since? None. Zero.
Robinson
was drafted No. 1 overall but had to honor his commitment to the Navy -- he
could have transferred out but didn't -- and couldn't play immediately in the
NBA. Instead, Robinson played in two of the most famous losses in U.S. Olympic history: one to Brazil in the
Pan American Games and one the very next year to the Soviets in the 1988
Olympics. Of course, over time Robinson recovered nicely. Teaming with Tim
Duncan in the city that has very much become his adopted home, Robinson won two
NBA championships. And he did it during a time in which Karl Malone and
Stockton, coached by Sloan, were building a long-running show in the Western
Conference.
Stockton
might be the least-known superstar in modern NBA history. He rarely gave long
interviews, rarely chatted after games and revealed almost nothing of himself
in more than a dozen years. Yet, Stockton
was revered by both his teammates and opponents. The top players in the NBA at
the time said, unanimously, that while Malone was a great player, Stockton was superior in
all the ways that counted. It was Stockton who had the ball at the end of
games, Stockton who made the key steal, Stockton who made the big shots, one
that eliminated Barkley and the Phoenix Suns in a bitterly contested Western
Conference playoff series. The coach of
those Utah teams, which made it to the Finals twice only to lose to Jordan's
Bulls, was Sloan. It seems as if Sloan was the only coach the Jazz ever had.
It's 21 years and counting, actually; he's the longest-tenured coach in
professional sports in America .
And as Barkley always notes, Sloan's teams never spent the kind of money the
Knicks spend, and never could attract the top free agents. The Jazz scouted
better than most and Sloan coached better than most -- coached like he played,
with great emphasis on preparation, unselfishness and physical and mental
toughness.
When
I was a child growing up in Chicago, my father took me to the old Chicago
Stadium on a great many occasions to see the Chicago Bulls of Sloan and his
back-court mate, Norm Van Lier. The way they played was the only way to play.
Sloan, in terms of toughness, was the NBA's version of Jim Brown. He'd fight a
bear, I always thought as a kid. Of course, that's the personality of his Utah
Jazz teams, and while most people see his entrance into the Hall of Fame as a
coach, those of us who watched him play see no need to separate the coach from
the player he was in Chicago. Sloan, in
fact, was the greatest player in Bulls history -- until Jordan came along in
1984. And nothing in basketball has been the same since.
Six
championships, two Olympic gold medals, more scoring titles and points scored
and last-second shots made and highlight videos sold than need to be enumerated
again. You ask kids growing up in Chicago right
now, born after Jordan
retired from the Bulls in 1998, who their favorite basketball player is and
they'll tell you, "Michael Jordan." While Stern, in his piece in the Sun-Times,
goes out of his way to mention Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, Elgin Baylor and
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Julius Erving and Bill Russell, he still acknowledges that
Jordan's contribution is, well, "different." . . . . "The league
grew tremendously on a global basis when Michael and the Bulls were coming into
prominence," Stern said. "Michael stands at a special place in the
development of the NBA as a global sport." And because of those contributions, and the
legacy of the Dream Team, the 2009 class will always stand out in the
Basketball Hall of Fame.
(NBA website, 2009)
It was only a matter of time, and now Michael Jordan is in
the Hall of Fame. Jordan was elected to the class of 2009 along
with David Robinson, John Stockton, Utah Jazz coach Jerry Sloan and Rutgers women's coach C. Vivian Stringer. The announcement was made in Detroit , site of the men's Final Four.
Induction is Sept. 10-12, 2009 in Springfield ,
Mass. , home of the Naismith
Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame. Jordan 's Hall
of Fame selection was a slam dunk after he retired as perhaps the greatest
player in history. And he gave much of the credit Monday to his college coach. "There's no way you guys would have got
a chance to see Michael Jordan play without Dean Smith," he said.
His soaring dunks, Nike commercials and "Air Jordan "
nickname helped stamp him as one the most recognizable athletes around the
world. He finished a 15-year career with the Chicago Bulls and Washington
Wizards with 32,292 points — the third-highest total in league history, behind
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Karl Malone. His final career average of 30.12 goes
down as the best, just ahead of Wilt Chamberlain's 30.07. The five-time NBA MVP won six championships
with the Bulls and another in college with North Carolina . Tar Heels coach Roy Williams was an assistant
with Carolina
on that 1982 national championship team and was at Monday's induction, where Ty
Lawson won the Bob Cousy award, given to the nation's top point guard. Jordan retired twice during his
career. He first came back to the Bulls in 1994 and won three more
championships before retiring again in 1998. He then had an ill-fated two-year
stint with the Washington Wizards before calling it quits to stay in 2003.
Monday, he joked that when he saw Stockton and Robinson he
was ready to put his shorts on again. Jordan
won two of his titles in the 1990s against Sloan, Stockton and the Utah Jazz. Stockton
spent his entire career with the Jazz and finished with 19,711 points, 15,806
assists and 3,265 steals. He also holds NBA records for most assists in a
season (1,164 in 1990-91) and highest assist average in a season (14.5 in
1989-90). "Growing up I never
thought about the Hall of Fame," he said. "All I wanted was a chance
to go to college." Utah took Stockton
in the first round of the 1984 draft, using the No. 16 pick on a relatively
unknown player from Gonzaga who became one of the top point guards. "I haven't given this much thought over
the course of a lifetime," he said. "I'm not sure it quite strikes
home until you're standing here."
Robinson, who earned the nickname "The Admiral"
from his college career at Navy, joined Stockton and Jordan as members of the
NBA's 50th anniversary team. He had a
stellar 14-year career with the San Antonio Spurs that included two NBA
championships, an MVP season, a rookie of the year award, 10 All-Star
selections, a scoring title and two Olympic gold medals. Robinson, too, credited his coaches over the
years who "kicked me when I need to be kicked and hugged me when I needed
to be hugged."
Sloan, who did not attend the ceremony, is the longest
tenured head coach in major league sports with a single franchise. A two-time
All-Star during his playing days with the Bulls, Sloan is the only NBA coach to
win more than 1,000 games with a single team. He has the Jazz in seventh place
in the Western Conference standings going into Monday night's games.
Stringer has led three separate teams to the Final Four in
her 38-year career and has an 825-280 mark spanning four decades. She trails
only Pat Summitt and Jody Conradt on the victories list. Stringer guided Rutgers to its fifth straight regional semifinals trip
this season. "My knees are weak,
and to think I would be standing here with these great, great men of
basketball," Stringer said. "It's not ever about me. It's about the
players who all make it happen."
Jordan Goes From Classy To Clown
(By Terence Moore,
Washington Post, Sep 12, 2009)
When it's your party, you can cry if you want to, and you
also can embarrass yourself if you want to. Just ask Michael Jordan, who spent
his induction into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame on Friday
night doing his version of dancing naked on a coffee table with a lamp shade on
his head. What was that? Whatever it was, it wasn't good. It rivaled
anything you can name through the decades as the most brutal Hall of Fame
acceptance speech ever. Soon after receiving a standing ovation of 73 seconds
from a packed and adoring house at Springfield Symphony Hall, he went from
sobbing to reflective to vicious. I
mean, where is Sandman (you know, that guy who yanks terrible acts off the
stage at the Apollo Theatre) when you need him?
It was this brutal Friday night: Anybody who bothered Jordan
mentally, physically or spiritually in hoops during his 46 years was
assassinated with his tongue. The coach who cut him from his high school team
in Wilmington, N.C. Buzz Peterson, who
was named high school player of the year in North Carolina over Jordan. His archenemy with the Chicago Bulls, Jerry
Krause. Several NBA coaches who worked for his teams and against his teams. Doubting media types. Opposing players Isiah Thomas, Magic Johnson,
George Gervin, John Starks and Byron Russell.
Oh, and Jordan
even gave a gentle whack to the knees to Dean Smith. According to Jordan, he
still is miffed that his former head coach at North Carolina told Sports
Illustrated in 1981 to go with four Tar Heel starters on its cover instead
five, which would have included the freshman Jordan. If that wasn't enough, Jordan looked at his
two sons and daughter, shrugged and then said, "You guys have a heavy
burden. I wouldn't want to be you guys."
Nice touch, Michael. So was this: With youngsters watching back home
during this prime time telecast, Jordan turned to David Thompson
nearby and said, "I know I shocked the (bleep) out of you." He was
referring to Thompson's likely reaction after he received Jordan 's call
to be his presenter for the event. Thompson is a fabled alumnus of North Carolina rival North Carolina State .
In other words, it was a blessing that those who decide such
things blew it this time. Jordan's meltdown aside, they needed one ceremony for
the only person that folks really cared about among this year's class, and they
needed another for those deserving but thoroughly misplaced inductees not named
Michael Jeffrey Jordan. I mean, what
were those who run the Hall of Fame thinking?
They weren't. Well, unless they were omniscient enough to see Jordan
racing in his Air Jordans toward that lamp shade. That said, you can't turn Jordan into a
basketball immortal with others, no matter who they are or what their
qualifications. It also doesn't matter that such a move of designating Jordan as a
solo induction act would be unprecedented. He is peerless, and come to think of
it, they sort of understood as much around here.
You could tell by the way they decided to have John
Stockton, David Robinson, Jerry Sloan and Vivian Stringer arrive for the
evening festivities one by one -- long before Jordan 's considerable entourage.
Those others had two motorcycle policemen leading their shiny Rolls Royces to
the red carpet that stretched from the edge of Court Street to the aged steps
of the hall. Then, as the largest crowd in the 50-year history of this event
roared in the distance, Jordan arrived with four motorcycle policemen and a
couple of more cops next to his antique car on bicycles. They applauded the others. They roared for Jordan .
To say this was awful timing for those others to join the
elite of the hoops elite with Jordan
is to say the man of the moment fired the only blatant air ball of his life
earlier in the day. That's when a considerably more humble Jordan stood at a
podium inside of the Hall of Fame's center court, studied those across the way
with only thoughts of impossible dunks, Craig Ehlo and an eternally wagging
tongue on their minds and said with a straight face, "Contrary to what you
guys believe, it's not just me going into the Hall of Fame. It's a group that
I'm proud to be a part of, and believe me, I'm going to remember them as much
as they remember me." Doubtful. Still, there are many things to remember about
those others, ranging from their accomplishments on the court to their speeches
on Friday. While dribbling down the stretch of his talk, a highly emotional
Robinson implored everybody to have God walk with them "they way He walked
with me." Then came Stockton, who left his typically stoic ways to choke
on his words when discussing his deceased mother.
Later, Stringer spoke about how we all go "through our
trials and tribulations" while referring to the tragic death of her
husband and her battle with cancer. Then Sloan gave a sometimes funny and often
poignant review of his life that would have ended 32 years ago had he taken a
head coaching job at Evansville ,
his alma mater. Months after he turned it down, the team plane crashed and
killed everybody on board. Jordan was
last to take the stage. Oh, boy. At one point near the beginning of Jordan 's speech of 21 minutes and
30 seconds, he asked those listening, "What is it about me that you don't
know?" He proceeded to give us the answer in detail -- unfortunately.
_________________________________________________________________
For Starters: 5 Greatest Point Guards
Posted Sep 07, 2009 10:30AM By Matt Steinmetz (RSS feed)
One guy's opinion on the five best point guards in NBA
history:
1. Nate Archibald: His 1972-73 season (league-leading 34
points per game; league-leading 11.4 assists per game) will probably never be
duplicated. And don't forget, he shot 49 percent from the floor that year. His
final touch of greatness was helping lead the Boston Celtics to the 1981 title.
2. Bob Cousy: Depending on who you ask, some might replace
Cousy with a Jason Kidd, Steve Nash or Payton. Wouldn't be the worst thing in
the world, but we're still committed to giving Cousy, an original, a place on
this list.
3. Magic Johnson: C'mon.
4. John Stockton:
There has never been a point guard who has understood the position more than Stockton . When it came to
making teammates better, nobody has ever done it any better than Stockton . Nobody.
5. Isiah Thomas: Few point guards had the total package that
Thomas had. He could run an offense and lead a team as well as anyone. He could
penetrate, knock down the jumper and find the open man. And there were few
point guards who could take over like Thomas when the game was on the line.
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