Inspired Effort Proves Courage Was Innate In Nate

Nate.

Better known Wednesday evening - and perhaps from here on out - as “NATE! NATE! NATE!” On a night when all of Seattle would have settled for a simple denial from the SuperSonics, or a qualified statement - a nice try, even - Nate McMillan showed up, dressed and defiant, and turned it into an exclamation.

Nate!

Oh, yes, a chorus it was. Gary Payton, humbled in his own house, was back with slightly less sass to his game - but only slightly - and considerably more slash. Shawn Kemp, having bitterly branded his own teammates as quitters, turned that same ferocity on the smug villains from Chicago. Detlef Schrempf and Hersey Hawkins, dismissed as goose-down figurines, emerged as hard cases, tough guys. Ditto for David Wingate.

Frank Brickowski? Well, no one pressed charges.

On rare occasions, desperation is the best motivator, and the Sonics have life in the NBA Finals because of a collective desperation that fueled a 107-86 bashing of the haughty Bulls at KeyArena - merely postponing the inevitable, perhaps, but in the most satisfying way.

No one had more cause for satisfaction than Nate McMillan.

Nate the Late. Nate of Cursed Fate. Nate, whose cranky sciatic nerve left him - for the crucial early phase of these NBA Finals prostrate.

Nate the Great.

The pre-emption of a coronation is weird duty, indeed. Do you rechill champagne? Who lugs the jewelry back and forth?

Where do you put all those brooms?

Wait, don’t answer that.

“It feels great to smack some people in the face,” McMillan said, thankfully suggesting something less painful. “We’ve had to listen to some terrible criticism from a lot of people. For us to get to the Finals and still not get any credit is ridiculous.”

The danger, of course, is that the Bulls might smack back, but better that after even a single Seattle victory than for the Sonics to go down as history’s footwipe.

There was no hint of that Wednesday. Once the Sonics got their first hoop - on a Payton-to-Kemp alley-oop jam - it was clear someone had ordered heart and head transplants all around.

There was attack, ball movement, spacing - and care. There was a body in the way of every Bull. There was Seattle up eight points 10-1/2 minutes into the game.

And there, checking in at the scorer’s table, was Nate.

“NATE! NATE! NATE!” came the chant. Foam rubber index fingers distributed to every seat - possibly as a plea for the Sonics to just win one - flew into the air.

He has done 10, sometimes hard, years here, the Sonic most deserving of this recompense - and the Sonic most frustrated, his ailment making sprinting and jumping all but impossible. He came to Key with a single notion: dress out.

“I felt like my presence would help this team out - being suited up in a Sonic uniform instead of a nice suit,” he said. “Sometimes your presence on the floor makes a difference. I saw a little glow in guys’ faces when they saw me in uniform - Gary told me it motivated him even more.”

He was in less than a minute when he found Payton on a screen-and-roll for a layup. Before his 14 minutes were up, he hit a long 3-pointer after the Bulls had closed a 23-point deficit to 13.

The points couldn’t have mattered less.

“The reason I got back to my game tonight is Nate was at the point a little bit,” said Payton. “He got me to put Michael on the baseline and have to guard me off curls, picks and stuff like that, and I got free. When I can get free like that, I think my game is a little more loose.”

Everybody’s game, it turns out.

“You see the confidence in our basketball team when he’s on the court,” said Sonics coach George Karl. “There’s a belief out there.”

Preparing himself may have been the hard part. He has heard the whispers that he should be playing. On national radio Wednesday, self-styled NBA savant Peter Vecsey wondered if McMillan would have played if the Sonics had him contractually secure - not bothering to find out that McMillan is one of the few Sonics who isn’t a free agent next year.

“It’s been constantly going through my mind,” McMillan said. “What are you going to do? How are you going to feel? Is the treatment working? Do you get acupuncture? Do you take the next shot? You want to be a part of this team.

“My wife said, ‘Go out and see how you feel and you make the decision. Don’t let anybody pressure you.’ My brother said, ‘Play - find a way to play.’ It wasn’t even a hesitation. He wasn’t feeling sorry for me. I needed to hear that.”

And he consulted history, and recalled that this is the time for courage.

“I thought about Willis Reed - I saw films of him dragging his leg out there,” he said. “I thought about Isiah Thomas, the time he had a bad hamstring and he limped the whole game - I think they won the championship that year. And I thought about Byron Scott, when he pulled his hamstring and had to go. That did come into play in my making my decision.”

Add one name to theirs.

Nate.

, DataTimes The following fields overflowed: CREDIT = John Blanchette The Spokesman-Review