Time To X-Out The Next Generation
I can’t help it, I’m rooting for Karl Malone and John Stockton to win Game 7 in Seattle. I couldn’t care less about the Utah Jazz as a team and their meddlesome owner, Larry “Walter Mitty” Miller; it’s a 30-something championship series I want to see, the Bulls vs. the Jazz.
Dennis Rodman, 35, battling the 32-year-old Mailman. Michael Jordan, 33, picking on somebody his own age, 34-year-old Stockton. Scottie Pippen, 30, matched with 30-year-old Chris Morris at small forward. Utah’s Jeff Hornacek, 33, trading jumpers with Chicago’s Steve Kerr, 30. Utah’s Antoine Carr, 34, may trump Chicago’s 32-year-old John Salley as the senior man in the low post, but not if the Bulls counter with 40-year-old Budda Edwards. NBC could just run Geritol and Advil commercials the entire series.
You know the best thing about a Stockton/Malone trip to the NBA Finals? No Generation X. Ha. Poor babies. No Shawn Kemp, 26, no Gary Payton, 27. No Shaq, no Penny, no Jason Kidd and Jimmy Jackson, no Webber, no Zo, no Larry Johnson, no J.R. Rider, no Ced Ceballos, no Glenn Robinson, no Todd Day, no Derrick Coleman and Kenny Anderson, no Joe Smith and Jerry Stackhouse, no Kevin Garnett and Kobe Bryant. No rim-hanging, no chest-thumping, no shimmying, no CD headphones, no knucklehead, underachieving, fundamentals-lacking, college-skipping juveniles. I guess the revolution really won’t be televised this year.
I’ve never rooted for Stockton and Malone in my life until now. Malone, in fact, was on my bad list for a couple of years because of his misinformed comments about not wanting to play against an HIV-positive Magic Johnson. And given the choice between spending a week in Seattle vs. Salt Lake City, you can bet your friendly columnist from the ‘hood would rather not have an extended stay in Utah. Probably, Seattle vs. Chicago would be a better series in terms of pure basketball, given the style of the two teams, the individual matchups and Payton’s ability to hold his own against Jordan defensively.
But you know what? Later for Seattle. I’m sick of Seattle. The Sonics went to Salt Lake City and rolled over like dogs Thursday night. The whole time they were banking on Game 7 Sunday. You think Stockton and Malone would go anywhere, to any arena in their lives and quit like the Sonics did Thursday? Never.
The key moment of the NBA broadcast of Game 5 Tuesday night from Seattle came when Hanna Storm reported from the Jazz huddle that Jerry Sloan had told his team, which was getting blown out at the time, to just hang in because he knew Seattle wasn’t prepared to play a full 48 minutes. Ouch. That’s a serious indictment. And, as it turned out, totally accurate.
Now, while it’s true Jerry Sloan was my first basketball hero, I’m puzzled by him as a coach, his underuse of certain players such as Adam Keefe, the lack of diversity over the years in Utah’s offense. But I knew Sloan was right about this one thing. Seattle doesn’t want a dogfight.
Like Orlando, Seattle’s a great front-runner. Get on top and sweep? Fine. No tense moments there. Put ‘em under some pressure, though, and the turnovers flow like water. Seattle’s turned it over more than 90 times the past four games, demonstrating an alarming lack of respect for possession of the ball. That’s one of those Generation X traits. You see Stockton throw away the ball and you want five replays to figure out how it happened. In Game 6 Thursday, Payton nearly negated seven assists with five turnovers. If Seattle has a sense of urgency, it’s time to prove it; the Sonics ran out of the benefit of the doubt long ago.
We know, on the other hand, the Jazz has a sense of urgency. Malone is about to turn 33, Stockton is already 34. Stockton, although he doesn’t talk about it, has nagging injuries that are affecting his play.
What do Stockton/Malone have that Payton/Kemp don’t? A certain resourcefulness, a stick-to-it-iveness that never wavers. They’re not always the best team, but they give their best effort. They know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the pick-and-roll is more effective than all the stylish stuff kids half their age bring to the gym.
Utah is in much the same situation as the Knicks were last year. The future is this weekend for Stockton and Malone. This is it, their best chance to get to the place they’ve never been: the NBA Finals. Strangely enough, the Dream Team - not to be imitated or duplicated - continues to be validated four years after the landmark 1992 Summer Olympics.
If Stockton and Malone can carry Utah to victory, only Chris Mullin and David Robinson of the 11 pros on that team will not have made an appearance in the NBA Finals. It was so stupid three years ago when the The Sequels - the U.S. team that competed in the World Championships - dared suggest they could beat an aging Dream Team. Right now, today, even without Larry Bird and Magic Johnson, The Dream Team (Jordan, Pippen, Charles Barkley, Malone, Stockton, Robinson, Patrick Ewing, Clyde Drexler, Mullin, Christian Laettner) could wipe the floor with the anybody, up to and including the U.S. Olympic team that will take the court in Atlanta this summer.
It was great to see Barkley and then Ewing in the NBA Finals. Given that Stockton and Malone have played with such distinction over the years, that they rarely miss a game, that no paying customer can ever accuse either of them of dogging it for one nanosecond, it would be a great reward at the end of distinguished and underappreciated careers for those two to play on the big stage in June.
More than anything, the new brat breed needs to see professionals at work, people who have earned decoration, not demanded that an agent produce it. Stockton and Malone don’t have much in the way of national endorsements, there’s no “Little Mailman,” no shoe named after Stockton even though he is the league’s all-time assist leader. But they know how to play basketball, they know how to think it, they know how to get in the best shape possible and play with every ounce of determination every single night. Nowadays, they call that “old school.” If so, let’s hope the Sonics learn a lesson the hard way on Sunday.