San Antonio Spurs.

[Andrew]

I always figured it was someone working on the Yahoo! NBA site (or in this case, NBA.com) slipping a joke in there, but it seems not. Hats off to Popovich for the rib.

[shadowgrin]

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/ ... /index.htm

.702: The Spurs' winning percentage during the Duncan era, the best 15-year run by any NBA team in history.

0: Number of teams in the four major pro sports with a better winning percentage over the last 15 years than the Spurs.

......

The story of Duncan's career begins on an island, in the summer of 1997. That's when Popovich flew down to St. Croix to meet his team's No. 1 draft pick. On the first day, Duncan took his new coach swimming...Popovich began to think about how far out they were, about what lay beneath, about the waves cresting off the rocks. Still, he kept going, determined not to show weakness.

Over the next three days—or two or maybe four, neither can remember—the two men swam and lay on the beach and ate, talking about life and family and priorities. Everything but basketball. Despite a difference of nearly 30 years, they connected in a way few athletes and coaches do. Today Popovich tears up just talking about it. "I really cherish that time," he says. "It was like an instant respect and understanding of each other. Almost like we were soul mates."

From that point on, the two were on the same page...—he and Pop stayed up late drinking beers in Pop's backyard, talking it through—Duncan never wavered in his commitment to the team. This, in turn, allowed Popovich to build his highly successful system, the tenets of which were simple: The offense runs through Duncan, the defense runs through Duncan, and if you don't like it, you're gone. It holds true to this day. "I like role players who aren't very good but have a skill," Pop says with a chuckle, though he is not joking. "I know who's going to have the ball on our team, and need players who understand this."

......

In 2001, when Stephen Jackson was in his second year and Duncan in his fourth, Jackson used to get so mad when he was subbed out of the game that he'd walk in a giant arc to the bench, nearly reaching the opposite baseline in an attempt to stay as far from Popovich as possible. Once seated, Jackson would unleash a stream of profanity so curdling that nearby fans would turn ashen. When it got to be too much, Duncan would approach Popovich. "I got him," Duncan would say.

And the funny thing is, Duncan did. He'd take Jackson aside, put a big, lanky arm around him and break it down. He'd joke with him, hang with him, make plans to play paintball with him. They made for an odd couple: Duncan, one of the squarest players in the league, and Jackson, who never met a club he couldn't close down, a team he couldn't tear apart or a bottle he couldn't pop.

Most important, he's allowed Popovich to coach him. For 15 straight seasons Pop has gone after his franchise player in practice. We're talking neck veins bulging, spittle flying, a Gatling gun of obscenities. And all Duncan has done is stare back, absorbing it. "He hasn't always liked it," says former teammate Sean Elliott, now a team announcer, "but he takes it. You know how important that is for the rest of the team to see?"

Or, as one Spurs coach puts it, "How could a guy like Stephen Jackson complain when Pop was motherf------ Tim every day?"

......

O.K., it's a toss-up as to how this will make you feel about Duncan: Did he once invite a bunch of teammates to a paintball course even though most had never played paintball? Perhaps. Did Duncan then stack his team with ringers and bring his own high-powered paintball gun? Maybe. Did he give certain players such as Danny Ferry guns that, according to Ferry, "were bent and shot six feet to the left every time"? There's a chance. And did Duncan then take great delight in hunting down his teammates, chasing the pale, balding, shorts-wearing Ferry until he was in close range, at which point Duncan unleashed a hail of water-soluble hellfire upon the man? It's possible.

......

On the third day of camp, Ferry and Kerr pulled up to the practice facility just as the team bus arrived from the hotel. A succession of rookies exited the bus. At the rear was Duncan, six years in the league already. He took one look at Kerr and Ferry. "Wait a second, are you guys staying at home?" Duncan asked, incredulous.

"Yup," said Kerr.

Duncan's eyes got wider. "You mean you can do that?"

Ferry stared back at him. "Tim, you're the league MVP. You can do whatever you want."

......

It's one thing to claim to love the game and another, as Ferry says, "to make the sacrifices that are necessary to win." They point out how Duncan lost those 15 pounds in the last couple of years to protect his knees, at an age when most 7-footers only get stockier (and indeed, to see him in the locker room with his shirt off, devoid of body fat, is jarring). They talk about how, in contrast to David Robinson, who was lovable and smart and marketable but never could remember all the plays, Duncan "knows every play from front to back, position one through five."

[Andrew]

It's been an impressive run for over a decade now. They haven't had much luck in the postseason since their last championship though and could very well be out in the second round this year. Once again, injuries have taken their toll.