I've always had a warm spot in my heart for the city of Denver. It was there, playing in the AAU basketball tournaments in 1957 as a high school player and during my four years of college, that I demonstrated the skills as a forward that led to my being selected in the first round of the 1961 NBA lottery by the Philadelphia Warriors. In high school I'd played center. No pro team had any use for a 6'6" center. In Denver, I played for the San Francisco Olympic Club that had a 6'10 center, so I played the forward position. It was, as they say these days, huge in my life. So I had no problem, once the Golden State Warriors were eliminated, deciding who I was going to cheer for to win the the 2003 NBA Championship. I was not disappointed. The Nuggets reign as the NBA's champs for 2003. They deserved it.
Better writers than me have already filled the internet with detailed accounts about how the Denver Nuggets did it, and who the best players were, their attributes, and their best moments. So, I'm not going to rehash old news. Let's leave it that I agree with most of the writers that this Denver team if they keep their core in tact, should compete for the Finals for years to come. All the accolades the players received by the press, I agree, were well deserved. I will not go so far as to agree that Jokic is the greatest player in the NBA today. That he is the greatest center in the NBA today, of course I agree. Greatest player is too broad, just as G.O.A.T is too broad that I can't think in those terms. Steph Curry is the greatest shooter of all time. Michael Jordan was the greatest 1 thru 3 of all time, John Stockton was the greatest point guard of all time. Am I getting my point across? One can say that the Joker is the best passing center of all time, but then I remember one and a half years that Bill Walton played for the Portland Trailblazers and I say to myself, well what if Bill had not injured himself and had a long NBA career? I can say with confidence that Jokic is the best 3 pt shooting center to every play in the NBA so far.
Since I brought up Bill Walton, I just finished watching ESPN'S 30/30 about Walton called The Luckiest Man in the World. It was an enormously moving film about one of the most fascinating and complicated basketball players that every put on an NBA uniform. Unquestionably Bill was one of the greatest high school and college basketball player that ever played. For the 1976/77 and half of the 1977/78 seasons Bill was the best all-around center in the NBA. I was Lenny Wilkens' assistant coach for Bill's first two years as a Blazer. In both those seasons Bill was injured, so it was all potential until he started paying better attention to his body and getting NBA healthy, which is a whole lot more difficult than just being generally healthy. Lenny and I were fired. Jack Ramsey took over the head coaching job and Bill lead the Blazers to an NBA Championship. If you are a basketball fan, this 30/30 about Walton is a must see. Let me repeat myself about how great a basketball center Bill Walton was, just so it's clear I'm on record. For one and half seasons, Bill Walton was the BEST ALL AROUND center to ever play the NBA. He checked off every skill set that a center should possess to be great. If you watch The Luckiest Man in the World, I'm reasonably sure you'll come away convinced that I'm right.
Back to the Nuggets for a last word. Keep your team together. Sign Brown. Don't lose the dude, he's a winner.
THE SHOT by Tom Meschery
Let’s say the one is all of us in our own way, in our own time.
It could have been a playground or a gym, probably a gym.
You shot the ball and watched its certain flight. How certain?
You could have turned your back on it before it fell and shouted,
Like a player I knew, once in a game did with seconds left
And down by two let fly and cried out, “Baby we’re in overtime.”
He was a star in the NBA before all of you stars were born.
It wasn’t arrogance. The words were like an announcement
Shooters know, don’t they, when the ball will drop, or not
It’s something in the finger and the eye called touch and sight.
Tell me that I’m not right, that I’m a liar. Tell me the game
Doesn’t turn magical in that moment of arch and backspin
And I’ll stop writing. I know you can’t, Curry, wearing
The magician’s hat in The Garden the night of fifty points.
I watched him through my crystal ball sail one jumper
After another over the heads of the disbelieving fans.
