What the Finals Mean, and What that Meaning Means

One of the things I love about Bill Simmons is the way he constantly discusses the NBA within its historical context. Without The Sports Guy, I would not have been drawn back into following the NBA over the last couple years. His constant comparison of the current pulse of the sport to the echoes of its heartbeat from the past make the experience of watching the 2-month NBA playoffs super fun. Maybe, after both the Red Sox and the Patriots turned their fortunes around just as Simmons rose to prominence, we should have expected his favorite sport to also re-establish itself (at least until the lockout).

In tune with the Simmons angle, these playoffs seemed to overflow with consequences for individual legacies. Kobe's quest for an MJ-tying sixth ring. Boston's Big Four's push to add a second title to their historical resume. Durant and Westbrook's hunt for trophy number one in their young careers. Ditto Rose. And, of course, Dirk.

Perhaps the 2011 playoffs were destined be about "legacy" from the moment LBJ signed with the Heat. Certainly, the question of LeBron's legacy will loom over the playoffs from now until he wins a title. But, in the word's most literal meaning, I don't believe in the word "destiny."

A short philosophical tangent: I believe in free will. I think at any given moment I can choose my actions to lead me down one of an infinite number of possible futures. But I can also see why, when you stop to ponder free will, it can be difficult not to think the future is just one straight track that you can't get off. After all, that's what the past is. I look backwards at yesterday, at last week, at last year and see one long continuous line of events. Though it is possible to imagine what might have happened to me if I had made different decisions, it's much more difficult to believe I could have made different decisions. This makes me ponder whether I really do have free will, until eventually I get tired of thinking and flip on the TV to watch old Simpsons episodes.

The history of sports is a particularly strange case for considering how things might have gone differently if individuals had performed differently. It is strange because, unlike our own personal past or the history of human societies, the outcomes of sports appear quite concrete.

-The Mavs beat the Heat in 6 games in the 2011 NBA Finals.

This leads us to make confident judgments about the players involved, starting from their abilities and moving into psychological diagnosis and assessments of character. These judgments are the fun part about watching sports, talking about sports, and reading about sports. These days, there are several qualities about the NBA that make its perpetually unfolding narrative especially fun. PEDs shattered MLB's unique link to the past. As much as it kills me to say it, I think the NBA now has the most thriving connection to its history out of any of the major sports. The NFL is the most interesting sport to watch from game to game, but from season to season the excessive parity leads to frequent shifts in the storyline. Plus, careers are shorter and injuries more devastating. Dirk is playing the best basketball of his life at 32-years-old. Other than QBs, that's ancient for NFL stars. NFL players have less time to make their mark on the sport's history. If the NFL and the NBA are like television dramas, the NFL has much more turnover in its cast, a much much larger cast with more role players than you can keep track of, and much less over-arching continuity in its plot-lines.

Here are some of the common judgments I've seen made in the discussion about the 2011 NBA playoffs:

-Dirk was the best player in the 2011 playoffs. His shooting, from his trademark fall-away to the free throw line, carried the Mavs to victory late in games, not only in the Finals but throughout the tournament.
-LeBron James was unable to fully capitalize on his considerable God-given talents to take over games when it mattered most. In fact, he seemed timid and passive as the pressure rose.
-Dwayne Wade, though he may not have quite as much talent as LBJ, seemed to have the quality to pick up his game late, unlike LeBron. Furthermore, from the latter part of the regular season through the playoffs, Wade emerged as The Guy on the team, as LBJ gravitated toward a Scottie Pippen-like supporting role. (And by the way, it's a credit to LeBron's talent that he is one of only a few players where the comparison to Scottie Pippen could be considered a criticism.)
-The Dallas Mavericks, the good guys, were the better team/represented traditional basketball values such as teamwork and loyalty. The Miami Heat, the bad guys, had more talent/represented modern greed and the American sin of seeking a shortcut to success. Teamwork/patience/goodness beat pure talent/greed/evil.
-Jason Kidd seems to be a bit of dick, and no one really likes talking about him much anymore, but he's definitely one of the greatest point guards of all-time so it is nice to see him win a title.
-Jason Terry has massive cajones. His insane confidence, demonstrated by the tattoo of the trophy he got on his arm before the season started, was ultimately the perfect compliment to Dirk's offensive dominance.
-Tyson Chandler's stats don't reveal his value to the team.
-Shawn Marion is another old player on the Mavs.
-Rick Carlisle has always been an excellent coach. This title certifies his ability.
-Erik Spoelstra did a great job in coaching his collection of mercenaries all the way to the finals, but in falling two games short, it's likely either he or Bosh will be made the scapegoat for the Heat's failure to win the title.
-Chris Bosh has the appearance of an alien.

Again, these judgments are the fun part about watching sports. But what do they really mean? That concrete result upon which they are crafted - Dallas beat Miami to win the title - is far more complex than it appears, and just as complex as history itself. Dirk had a chance to win Game 3, but he blew it with a turnover and a bad shot. If the Mavs go on to lose the series, that one minute of poor play from the Big German is magnified and added to the "Dirk is a choker/Dirk is soft" legacy, now dead, that was originally built off the 2006 Finals loss to the Heat and the loss in the first round. Did Dirk stop being a choker? Did he get tougher? Or were the 2006 officials purely to blame for Dirk being without a title this long? Or perhaps there were decisions less memorable, but more in Dirk's control. A play where he settled for a shot that missed instead of driving to the hoop. A split-second decision on defense that proved to be the wrong one. We remember games being decided by plays down the stretch because they feel magnified in importance at the time, but we generally forget most of the game that led to that point unless we happen to catch it on ESPN Classic. (Or if it was absurdly memorable for our own teams like Gerry McNamara's 6 threes in the first half of the 2003 national championship.)

I do think we have enough examples to show that LeBron James is not as good a player in high pressure moments. However, I'm sure, as true as this judgment seems to be, that it would be given less emphasis had he and Wade managed to lead the Heat to victory in Games 6 and 7. Maybe LeBron's fantastic shooting in the first quarter would have been the signifying moment for his contribution to Game 6 if the Heat had gone on to win. He did, after all, lead the Heat in scoring.

We don't view sports with much nuance at all. We label players with a judgment that sticks until something else apparently concrete, like a championship title, forces us to forget that judgment and make a new one on the spot. We'll remember the Dirk playoffs as the Dirk playoffs, a tournament that couldn't have gone any differently because Dirk was the best player in them. His legacy as a champion is now established on 2011. Wade's is built on 2006. LeBron's remains a mystery until he wins a championship or retires. Championships are anchors of certainty for our perceptions of the sport's past. I enjoy those pivotal moments in the narrative as much as anyone. Still, when I really think about it, I doubt that the meaning those moments convey is quite as clear-cut as we like to believe.