LeBron James (or a lack thereof) may be the story that has everyone salivating, but I refuse to believe discussing the Mavericks first is burying the lead. They won the championship, and to the victor go the spoils, a.k.a. the first portion of my column.
What we saw all postseason from the Mavs was incredible team play: fluid ball movement, perfect defensive rotations, and endless depth, so many ways to score and win games. Dirk Nowitzki was the focal point, but his willingness to trust his teammates—combined with his offensive arsenal—made the Maverick attack doubly potent. It also wore out the Miami Heat, whose legs failed them in Game Six. There was simply too much pressure on the great three players of the Heat to beat the very good nine players of the Mavericks.
I can’t help loving this championship as if I were a Dallas fan. So many characters on this team have waited and waited and waited for their chance to get a ring, and now they have it.
The Mavericks have been at least a 50-win team for the past eleven straight seasons, yet never felt like a serious threat to win a title because we all believed they were nothing more than a regular season force that would fold come playoff time. All the labels we applied over the years—Nowitzki was too soft, Jason Kidd was too old, Mark Cuban was too loud, Jason Terry wasn’t a good enough second scorer, Shawn Marion was over the hill, Peja Stojakovic missed his chance years ago—came to be NBA gospel, and the absolute truth was that this team would never have what it takes to claim the ultimate prize. Consider all those labels, all those notions, and all that doubt cleansed by the power of this championship.
Nowitzki now takes his seat at the head table of all-time greats; I can’t say where exactly, but he’s at the table. Averaging 28 points and 8 rebounds a game this postseason, Dirk carried his team past the trendy upset pick Trailblazers, the two-time defending champion Lakers, the young gun Thunder, and the superstar-laden Heat. (Side note, I picked Dallas to lose all four of those series, so clearly I know what I’m talking about.)
Spreading the Love, Jason Kidd finally got his ring at age 38, and Shawn Marion can call himself a champion after coming close a number of times with both the Suns and Mavericks. Rick Carlisle proved himself as one hell of a coach after he gameplanned circles around his counterparts in Nate McMillan, Phil Jackson, Scotty Brooks, and Erik Spoelstra.
The most refreshing thing about this Mavericks group is that they defined the word “team” at every crucial moment. They made numerous double-digit, fourth quarter comebacks throughout these playoffs by trusting each other, remaining patient in the face of immense pressure, and believing that over the course of 48 minutes, their plan would work. I haven’t seen a team before with this level of chemistry, trust, and genuine love for one another. Team trumped talent in these finals, and that is extremely reassuring considering the talk of superstar trios dominating the NBA landscape.
And now, due perhaps to our own perverse love for seeing Goliath fall, I turn my attention to what many of you may be most interested in, the Miami Heat. From this embarrassing beginning to a classless end in which Dwyane Wade and LeBron James mocked Nowitzki’s sickness, the Heat made it virtually impossible to fully appreciate their immense talent. Even though I have never personally liked James, I wanted to watch this team play well. I wanted to see what having two of the best three players in the world could be, and yet this team never fully meshed offensively.
By defeating the Celtics and Bulls in tough, gritty, clutch fashion I truly believed that James had turned the corner from great regular season player to postseason maestro. Boy was I wrong. LeBron’s passivity, in the last three games of this series especially, was astonishing, vividly reminiscent of last season’s playoffs when he mentally checked out against the Boston Celtics. In this series James literally never looked at the rim in the fourth quarter, always passing the ball off as if he was playing hot potato. His issues were so clearly mental that you wonder if a visit with Dr. Phil is in order.
After averaging 27 points per contest this season, James became a shell of himself, scoring just 15 points per game over the final three games of this series. And really, his play was even worse than those stats indicate. You could see the fear on James’ face. Not only did he not relish his championship moment, he couldn’t run from it fast enough. I can’t explain it, I’m disappointed by it, and though I’m not in the James fan club, I feel cheated by his absolutely abysmal effort and performance on the game’s biggest stage.
The oft-criticized third wheel of the Heat, Chris Bosh scored 18.5 points and grabbed 7.3 rebounds per game in the Finals; James averaged 17.8 and 7.2. Also, LeBron rarely got to the foul line (20 attempts in the whole series) and he made just 12 of those shots (60%).
With Bosh doing what he was supposed to and a brilliant Dwyane Wade; who averaged 26.5 points, 7 rebounds, and 5.2 assists over the six games; the blame clearly and irrefutably must fall on James’ shoulders. In a series of tight games, his lack of aggression and production was the difference between a title and second place.
Of course we would miss the lessons the Mavericks just taught us if we forever wrote off LeBron as not clutch, not a closer, and lacking a killer instinct. Winning takes time, team building is a process, and we shouldn’t paint the Heat as missing championship ingredients just because they got outplayed in this series. LeBron still has a long career ahead of him to write his legacy, but losing in his first two finals appearances, the second of which he was favored in, doesn’t exactly conjure images of Jordan, Magic, Bird, or Kobe.
Though much of it was self-imposed, over the past year the Heat went through perhaps the most media scrutiny and fan hatred of any team in American sports history. That animosity will fade with time, and James, Wade, and Bosh will grow more comfortable as a trio. Additionally, the Heat will have at least a little more cap space this offseason to improve their team. It looks bleak right now within the shadow of a disconcerting collapse, but looking at the big picture, James is 26, Bosh 27, and Wade 29, and they fell just short of a title in their first campaign together.
But for now, the Mavs are the only ones who merit the title of King, and the Heat face a long offseason of second guessing, self doubt, and what-ifs. Playoff failure often makes teams stronger in the long run, but you have to wonder how much more of it James can personally take.
--from @AdamHocking
(images from flickr.com)
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