The Difference between Porn Stars & Post Players

I used to call him the German pornstar. But when Dirk Nowitzki, (with the help of an emerging Steve Nash and Michael Finley), defeated the Utah Jazz in the '01 divisional playoff series, I stopped. After a stellar sophomore season, the 7" German import instantly became one of my favorite players in the NBA. Young, international and tooled with a dangerous, and completely unprecedented offensive arsenal, Dirk Nowitzki was no longer in the shadows of one, Dirk Diggler.

His floor game reminded us of Larry Legend. Incredibly accurate perimeter shooting, unlimited range, and oh, that up and under. He had a runner, he could pass and make decisions, he could face you up and blow by you, his shot was un-blockable--and yeah, he was seven feet tall.

Physically, Dirk Nowtizki was a mutant version of Larry Bird. His rebounding was improving, his defense became tolerable and best yet, he played with Steve Nash and Michael Finley. "The Dallas Mavericks were good again." I remember thinking. Or maybe it was more like, "shit, the Dallas Mavericks are good."

The rest is well-documented. Dallas' Big Three rise to power in the ultra-competitive Western Conference. They compete hard against the Sacrementos, and the San Antonio's but in the end, the Big Legendary was too big and too legendary in the race to try and beat LA. Despite adding Laker-killer, Nick "the Quick" Van Exel, there just wasn't enough defense in Big D and eventually, the Big 3 broke apart (as did the Greatest Show on Court) and it was the end of an era.

But it wasn't the end of Dirk's run. Even after Steve Nash--the Boba Fett and cerebral cortex of the Dallas Mavericks left--Dallas continued and improved, their hard work culminating in a trip to the promise land in the 2006 NBA Finals. They led the series 2-0, but after the single worst stretch of officiating in NBA Playoff history, Dwyane Wade nearly single-handedly lifted the Heat past Dallas, and a long summer of disappointment ensued.

Again though, Dirk rose to the challenge as the Mavericks sprinted out to a historic 67-win season, where Nowitzki snatched the MVP trophy away from his old teammate, Steve Nash.

And then it happened.

In likely the greatest upset in the history of the NBA, the heavily favored Mavericks fell to the 8th-seeded Golden State Warriors in round one of the playoffs with much of the blame falling upon Nowtizki's shoulders. The pundits blamed Dirk. "Lack of toughness," they said. "European players are just too soft." "Get a post-game," they screamed, "for Christ's sake you were playing a team of guards."

Interesting. A guy who had spent his entire career pursuing excellence in the face of tremendous challenges--of loosing players, losing coaches, changing philosophies, adjusting to the American game--A seven time all-star, an MVP, a guy who doesn't complain, a guy who has played injured and sick in the most important games of his career is suddenly...soft?

The reality is, is that Dirk Nowitzki has evolved as much as any player and any star in the modern history of the NBA. From a rail-thin small forward who no coach knew what to do with, to an unstopable guard/bigman hybrid, to a bonified legitamate rebounder, medium-range post player, who can decently defend and now rarely shoots 3's--well, the reality is, Dirk Nowitzki is as tough as any player I've watched.

It's my theory, that just because a guy is tall, doesn't mean he needs to become a certain kind of player. Doesn't mean he needs to be able to be a power player. Because he never will be. Dirk has played his entire life a certain way. Some might say as a 3, others might say 4--but his footwork, his instinct, his skill set has made him the player he is. And in the game of basketball, I believe you play to your strengths. No matter the circumstances--you stay true to the player that has gotten you where you've gotten. And for Dirk Nowtizki, that's a hell of a place to be.

So while the jury is still very much out on Dallas' move to get Jason Kidd--maybe it's a good thing the Mavs traded a scorer, for a passer. Dirk could use the extra pass.

A Tale of Two Genomes

In an age where classic positional archetypes are melting, here's a question that cuts to the core of the individual, and its role in soceity:

• Is Allen Iverson the basketball player, Allen Iverson, because this is the player he chooses to be? Or this is the player he was born, and cultured to become?

And let's take this question to its logical extent.

• If Allen Iverson is the player he is, because this is the player he has and continues to choose to be--could he be Steve Nash if he wanted to be?

This excercise isn't intended to zero in on Iverson or any individual player, rather the question of what it is that makes good players, and what it is that makes good teams. I picked Iverson, and counterpart, Steve Nash because there's a crystal-clear dichotomy between the two players, despite their similar position of control on each of their respective teams--and Iverson in particular, because there is nothing he can't do physically that Steve Nash can.

With the exception of Iverson's trip to the 2001 NBA Finals, Nash has in large part achieved more team success over the course of his career--and it could be argued that he has achieved more individual success with his two MVP's to Iverson's one. But why?

There's little question Iverson is a significantly more gifted athlete. He is by all-accounts one of the greatest athletes in basketball history, which likely makes him one of the greatest athletes ever in any sport. A 6-foot marvel, who starred in basketball and football in higschool, blazing speed and quickness--and incredible vertical leap, and strength that goes consistently over-looked. His individual basketball talent is unquestionable. The coordination, the balance, the ball handling--the ability to get wherever he wants to, whenever he wants. His vision is always underrated, as noted by his career assist numbers.

So why is it, that Steve Nash--a player who in most tangible ways is subordinate to Iverson, has achieved more notable success than Iverson in his career?

The first and most obvious answer is their teams. Nash has been surrounded by better talent than Iverson for a good deal of his career in both Dallas and Phoenix. But why is it then, that Iverson and his Sixers achieved such great success in the 2000-2001 season reaching the NBA finals, a plateu Nash has never reached despite superior suporting talent to Iverson? Of course, there is the obvious disparity in competition between the East and West--but why did Iverson fail to consistently compete for the Eastern Conference crown year after year in Philadelphia?

Furthermore, Nash's immediate impact in Phoneix far surpasses that of Iverson in Denver, where he has the talent to legitamtley contend for a title.

Now I won't contend for a second that despite the above de-bunking of the "team" theory--that it doesn't and hasn't played some sort of roll in the differences in their respective levels of success--but I think there's a more powerful factor at play here.

I hypothesize, that it is the innate type of player Allen Iverson is, and continues to be, that has led to the markedly different legacies both AI and Nash.

Jordan won rings only when he actively chose to trust his teammates--to rely on them. Tim Duncan has always relied on his teammates, as did Bird and Magic (whos success was predicated on it rather than just relied), Kobe's fortune is changing as he is allowing his teammates to carry more of the burden, and despite the fact that he has yet to win a title, Nash elevated his game by giving his teammates the opportunity to become better.

It would be easy to misconstrew this, and say--"oh ok, Allen Iverson is innatley a more selfish player, therefore he does not succeed." Quite the contrary, just look at the numbers. The reality isn't that Iverson doesn't pass the ball enough--it's that he doesn't want to pass the ball enough.

Why? For the same reason Jordan struggled. Because when you're as good as Michael Jordan, or Allen Iverson, it's far easier to trust yourself, than it is to trust four other guys you know aren't even close to being as good as you. In the short run--from moment to moment, play to play--you can get away with it. Hell, you can get through regular seasons and even compete in the playoffs, maybe even make it to a Finals once on that notion. But when it comes to trying to win a title--when it comes to being a champion, it just isn't enough.

Dicatorship might work well in the short run, but you have to trust the people, to truly accomplish a great society.

But let's dig deeper: Why? Why doesn't/why can't Iverson see this light? Why doesn't he see the success of Steve Nash, and make the connection that "shit, if I play more like Steve Nash, I might give myself a better shot at getting to the promise land."

Here's my theory:
Miraculous, once in a lifetime God-given talent (striking platinum in the genetic lottery pool) + coming of age during the Magic-Bird-Jordan Era as I discussed = an innate lack of basketball selflessness that the likes of Duncan (born and raised under very different socio-economic circumstances) use to become elite, champions. Or: nature + nurture = nature. In contrast, Nash was born with less talent, raised in a different culture and whose greatest influence may have very well been soccer--a far more egalitarian game, where an individual can have far less influence than in the game of basketball.

But forget Iverson. There are more players, more stars in NBA history who have been further from this innate realization than AI. I've seen Iverson play like Nash on possessions. He dishes, beautifully at times. Sometimes, it just isn't in the genes.