Saturday, March 7, 2009

Bleachers' Brew # 148 Whatever happened to the runnin' and gunnin' Phoenix Suns?

http://businessmirror.com.ph/home/sports/7137-setting-suns-a-lament-on-those-setting-phoenix-suns.html
Whatever happened to the runnin' and gunnin' Phoenix Suns?
A lament on those setting suns by rick olivares

It's a pain watching these Phoenix Suns. Sure they can dunk some but they somehow don't fit the description. Time was these used to run teams ragged now they resort to knocking Dwyane Wade on his butt when he tries to dunk on them.

The Suns of Sir Charles, KJ, Thunder Dan, and Richard Dumas (where art thou) played exciting ball. And they knew drama (see Rex Chapman's buzzer beaters and the Round Mound's game winner over the Admiral). Hey, they ran too even if Oliver Miller competed with Sir Charles for the record number of doughnuts eaten during a Paul Westphal timeout.

And they made like the Roadrunner when Starbury and J-Kidd were running the show. Read it and weep -- they RAN the SHOW. But it was when Mike D'Antoni blew into town that hoop fans were served a way more palatable version of Paul Westhead's Denver Nuggets.

For once, it wasn't about the dunk. It was all about how they scored in the quickest possible and most ingenious way. It was never about who scored but the degree of excitement and difficulty when the team put the ball in the hoop. It wasn't Stockton-to-Malone but five guys running the ball and pass-touching the ball like it was the plague.

They were the highway stars. They were like DC Comics’ plethora of speedsters: the Flash, Impulse, Max Mercury, Jay Garrick, Jesse Quick, and the Tornado Twins.

It was hoops in a track meet and they… got the job done faster than Usain Bolt did.

And had they won (no thanks to some terrible officiating that gave the match to the San Antonio Sterns), they would have changed the way basketball is played forever.

Prior to that the defensive mentality that wormed itself into every coach's playbook when the Detroit Pistons were champs became a team's calling card. Defense won championships and well, it still does. But does anyone want to watch the San Antonio Spurs again? Okay, the proof is in the record books because they won their Larry O’Briens.

So the Suns traded the excitement for bad comedy and it seems like they went the way of the Sacramento Kings of the early 2000's. Sure they still have Nash, the Blur, and STAT but they're like jitterbugs in a Pension House with Over the Hill with a Big Cactus who’s a roadblock along Thunder Road.

So J-Rich and Matt Barnes are the solution? Gawd. Let's not confuse one exciting post-season of these sucky G-State Warriors with the immortal Run-TMC.

Hard for Phoenix to sustain the run and gun so they were running on empty?

Steve Kerr has turned the Suns into his version of the Cleveland Cavaliers of the early 90's when they had Brad Daugherty, Mark Price, Larry Nance, Hot Rod Williams (who joined the Suns later), the poor man's Michael Jordan in Ron Harper, the punching bag of Michael Jordan in Craig Ehlo, and one Kerr-ent GM who was successful when laying off for a three from a pass by Michael Jordan (and Scottie Pippen).

You know? Walk it up. Run on occasion. Dunk when the spirit moves them. Win some games here and there.

But all things come to pass. Like the brownie chocolate mocha of Starbucks. See you don't even remember?

Yet I remember when C-Webb, White Chocolate, the Serbian Sniper, Bobby Jax, Hedo, and Vlade were the Show in town. And you thought that Los Angeles trademarked Showtime?

The Magic Man was the Maestro who ran the Lake Show. When Norm Nixon was exiled to the Clippers he was Alan Menken doing Disney scores without Howard Ashman. It was still plenty good but somehow it wasn't the same. Yet still that was good enough to win them more titles and make the Finals. Hey, Menken turned up a fantastic soundtrack for Enchanted!

But the Lake Show is now the sole property of Big Chief Triangle. The passing is still nifty but if you want to talk run and gun let's go up northwest to Portland or -- Holy Guacamole -- New York.

Aww. But them Sacramento Kings... they had gifted passers in Divac, Webb, Williams, Jackson, Turkoglu, Stojakovic, and Doug Christie who was my fave playa on the squad that Rick Adelman had nothing to do with. All he did was let them out of the gates. And after a while, he sent White Chocolate away for Mike Bibby and soon one by one they were gone. Well, they had a young Gerald Wallace in harness but the dunk is the cherry topping here.

Sacto was exacto with the pass. The modern-day Harlem Globetrotters. They came. They dared. They entertained. They lost to the Lakers.

And the Suns were natural born heirs to the Kings who were forced to abdicate their throne. There was Mike D’Antoni – God bless him, I say – who was Top Boss. In the mix was Raja, the Matrix, Casa, and the Man called Boris. They were the Theater in the Desert. Because of their early success, they were able to take down Barkley’s picture in their team HQ when he criticized them for poor defense. They didn’t need yesterday coz they were next.

However these Suns, unlike General Sta. Ana, could not storm the Alamo. And Sir Charles’ shadow still looms large.

The run and gun is a side show freak. Unfortunately they don't last long as Coney Island's Freak Show which has been around since forever like Eak the Freak. Fastbreaks don't translate into championships because come play-off time opponents play you tougher. And after a long 82-game grind, the injuries pile up.

And the sun has set in Phoenix.

The fastbreak highlight is good for Sportscenter but whoever said Sportscenter was good for the game? It has instead spawned generations of ballers who thought that the dunk = success. At the end of it all, they've become Harold Miner. Or the US team that got trounced by Argentina and Greece.

Or the agile big man like C-Webb who clearly wasn't the answer in Philly.

Enjoy it now because after a while, these Knicks (unless D’Antoni has anything to say about it) and these Blazers will walk it up.

I'll bet that will happen... in seven seconds or less.

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