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 In the middle of Game 1 of the NBA Finals on Tuesday night, I asked myself honestly, what the hell was I watching?
This is supposed to be the Kobe/Gasol era, the return of the Celtics, the rise of the Bulls and the Thunder (an ode to fiscal conservativeness and the true art of scouting). Instead we have a team from Texas and another from Florida with very little NBA legacy. What is so special about Miami and Dallas? Why are they here? It used to be that every team goes through growing pains. Miami has had none. It used to be that only great coaches won championships. So far this century only sure fire future Hall of Fame coaches have won the NBA Finals (Phil Jackson, Gregg Poppovich Larry Brown, Doc Rivers and Pat Riley). Exactly how do Erik Spoelstra and Rick Carlisle fit into this equation? Typically a championship also redefines a players career. It marks a stepping stone, a sign of maturity. But is Dirk really that much different than he was five years ago? You certainly can’t say LeBron “made the leap." No matter how many rings he wins he showed the world he doesn't want to chase Jordan for the title of GOAT, and he really doesn't care about winning (if he did he would have signed with Chicago, hands down.) Peja Stojakovic is a former All-Star for the Sacramento Kings who choked in the playoffs. Shawn Marion was the freak wing player who thrived off of Steve Nash in Phoenix until he had an emotional meltdown somewhere between playing for Miami and Toronto. Jason Kidd already lost two Finals in his prime, and he's 38. When he was drafted, John Wall was four years old. Chris Bosh was the only thing interesting about Toronto for seven seasons, but he never even won. Mike Bibby left millions on the table in Washington just so he could ride the Big Three's back to a title he could never deliver as a Sacramento King. And how can I get used to the idea of Tyson Chandler being the vocal leader of the Mavericks? He’s the bust from Chicago, who’s career floundered alongside Eddy Curry's. ESPN’s Bill Simmons described the Heat's roster as a “two and half, maybe three man team.” Can they really be the future of the league? All of these questions really make me wonder: What does winning a championship really mean anymore? On one side we have Mark Cuban, who will pretty much buy any player he can—a risk no owner decided to match after the 2008 financial meltdown. I guess if you think about it from purely a monetary perspective, it really is the year of the Mavs. Cuban pretty much spent all he could over the last three seasons acquiring free agents—mercenaries really. The Heat arrived at the Finals by taking a no less honorable journey. Here we have a team that believes in tanking (ask Shawn Marion about his 2007-08 season in Miami) and cutting everyone off its playoff team so Wade, James and Bosh can fulfill their wildest dreams. If these guys are rewarded with a ring after throwing a championship celebration before the season even started, you can forget anything you ever learned about karma. While I worry that I'm watching a Finals between an owner hell bent on buying a championship and a cheesy publicity stunt, I can't complain about the high level of basketball being played. I guess for us to understand what this series means, we're going to have to take a step back from our typical historical perspective on the game of basketball.
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