How 'Bout Them Spurs

The Sarge received this letter recently:

Dear Sarge,

I have only recently moved to San Antonio and I’m really a Spurs fan even though I haven’t been able to go to a game in person. These guys are tremendously successful, very involved in the community and are visible and so in touch with San Antonians that it makes your heart pump silver and black just to be in their community.

I have learned a lot about the Spurs without ever doing any research at all. I just listen to folks talk about them at flea markets and during weather reports and read about them on bathroom walls and such. You can learn a lot just by being a little bit observant, I’ll tell you that.

Here are a few items of more personal interest I have learned about the Spurs:

Tim Duncan is the big, big star on the Spurs. One might surmise from his name that he is probably Scot and of the extremely large male category. From what I could piece together, he was the winner of the American Virgin competition which was probably a less popular version of American Idol or something. (I would think so! “let’s see, competitive virginity or singing…hmmm…LaLaLaaaa!”) He also was an excellent swimmer in his youth which could be how he escaped the Scottish Isles. Arriving just inland a bit from Wilmington NC he settled down in the Wake Forest area for longer than anyone would have thought prudent (appears he’s a little slow to get moving). I think he was or is a very religious man because people like that Irish-name enormous guy from Miami talk about his fundamentalism a lot. Here’s where it all gets slightly confusing to me… apparently Mr. Holt, who is either the owner/operator of the Spurs or the guy the real owner/operators hired to go to games and impersonate them, won Mr. Duncan’s performance rights in a lottery. I personally have played the lottery and I always check the box for lump sum money payout. Imagine Mr. Holt’s surprise when he forgot to check the box and won a competitive virgin Scot who was fundamental and pretty darned happy living in Winston-Salem. But they both seem to have made the relationship work nicely; in fact I think right now it appears to be Mr. Duncan’s turn to own Mr. Holt but I’m not sure how that works in the NBA.

Bruce Bowen is a man who works hard in the community, chasing fat kids from schoolrooms and down the street. He has a wonderful family, is admired by teammates and fans, recognized and badgered for autographs wherever he goes and apparently is meaner than a snake. The way I understand what’s written is that the NBA is made up of very athletic and tall men who have perfected graceful and often exciting moves that they use to score points on the court and after they score they graciously let the athletic, tall, graceful and exciting guys from the other team do their moves before starting all over again. Mr. Bowen apparently cannot, will not, and I mean refuses to work and play well with others during these activities. He places his body about 3 cm from theirs and moves at the exact time and in the precise direction they do, blocking them from their graceful exciting blah blah blah. I bet he mocks them too… “Goldurn it!” “Goldurn it!” “Stop repeating what I say!” “Stop repeating what I say!”. He reportedly even stands still on the floor when other players leap high into the air towards him. Good thing he isn’t allowed on international teams, or we’d be at war!!

Robert Horry looks like he may be Japanese. He acts a little inscrutable, I think. (this kind of rests on the premise that most folks are scrutable and I just don’t want to get into that right now). You watch and watch and watch and wait for Rob-san to do the wonderful thing. When you whisper “when is he going to do it?” the answer is “soon. Just watch.” And you keep watching and asking and sniveling and finally they tell you the truth. “June, okay!! He’ll do it in June now shut up!” and when you ask why we’re watching him now you’re told “sometimes he gets confused and thinks it’s June”.

Tony Parker is the greatest point guard I’ve seen since middle school in Alaska. Mr. Parker is reported to be French, but his accent is pretty hokey and I think he is from Seguin. He gets together with the other s’posed to be French guy in Arizona and talks that language; to me, it could very well be pig-Latin with a Seguin accent. But he is a great man – he drives a convertible just in front of police car chases and he dates beautiful actresses who actually believe that he is French and therefore can’t understand our credit card system. He has this shot called the teardrop that he throws way the hell up in the air, right over the real tall guys and down thru the basket. If they jump up and swat it away they are chastised for goal tending which is apparently only allowed indoors when wearing a fierce mask and ice skates. This would limit one’s jumping ability to about one jump I think but would be a hoot on a date when the Batman costume gets boring. Anyway Mr. Parker probably learned the teardrop shot from Brent Barry’s dad, who was even more effective in that he made everyone stand still while he did it. But Tony will learn if he just listens to the Barry guys.

Manu Ginobili is the Captain Bill of the NBA. His signature move from the fans perspective is to race down the floor and hurl his body into the thickest group of players he can find. Arms and legs extended he frisbee’s across the court bouncing off players, fans, Coyote, floor, ceiling, walls, sometimes the backboard and once the shot clock. And when he has the ball he really goes overboard. His other signature move from his opponent’s perspective is a dramatic performance whenever they get within 8 – 12 meters of Manu. He clutches his chest, staggers backwards then staggers back forward, begins weeping out loud, and falls down on the floor calling for religious, family, and marketing representative support. Mr. Ginobili also teaches short game golf to airplane mechanics and many of the Spurs, specializing in the flop shot.

I haven’t learned much about the rest of the players; I’ll update this report when I do.

Coach Gregg Popovich is a genius. He has asked his slightly famous assistant coaches to say that out loud many times - so there you go, it’s true. He originally tried to make a career in the Air Force but in one of the earliest and most effective utilizations of the ejection seat he is a civilian. Reportedly the Coach at times gets frustrated with the play of his team or activities in his subdivision and yanks various sized pieces of hair from his head. He then has Brent Barry trim him up with a weed-whacker and they share head bands to hide the stitches. He speaks Russian but nobody has the slightest idea why. Maybe he and Tony Parker sit around in a Seguin hide-a-way, make up new words and just laugh their butts off. Coach Pop is also renowned as a connoisseur of spirits. Judging from his team make up I suspect he specializes in foreign spirits which are then Americanized. That would mean light beer from a European or Latin country I think, or perhaps an American light beer with a note on the can that says it uses fine Bavarian hops grown in Argentina or something. Anyway, when Coach Pop’s team does really good we all should send him some light beer because hey – he’s an expert on that too!

See what you can learn and absorb about your San Antonio Spurs just from flea markets, bathroom walls and weather reports? It is breath-taking in so many ways.