The fourth quarter of Game 5 of the Spurs/Suns playoff set was a virtual microcosm of the entire series, nay, the entire Suns season. After retooling, re-strategizing, re-thinking their own run-and-gun basketball methods, and giving themselves every opportunity to be in a position to come out on top, the suddenly aging Suns end another thriving season as losers, a predicament that has grown into a tiresome annual tradition.
"High Five!"
This was the series that Steve Kerr was brought in for. This was the series that the “Most Dominant Ever” was wooed in for, cape and all. This was the series that was on the minds of everyone involved in the organization since last July. After being ousted at the hands of perfectly-programmed robots known as the Spurs in three of the last five seasons, this was the year that everyone in
You can dispose of those Game 6 tickets, Suns fans. It’s time to sell them to a blind kid and sport your D-Backs jersey full-time.
Is Mike D’Antoni to blame? Possibly. Can the finger be pointed at Steve Kerr? It can and probably will. But neither of those two turned the ball over seven times in the final quarter, including a couple scarce Nash dishing gaffes and an air-mail package sent via Boris Diaw that flew across the floor and into the hands of Ian Mahinmi keeping his seat on the Spurs bench nice and toasty, quite possibly his first touch of the season. Neither of those two missed 17 foul shots in an elimination game (well, one could argue that Kerr missed those free throws vicariously throw O’Neal).
The Spurs, on the other hand, will strap on their golden chaps, saddle up, and head forward into very well-known territory: deeper and deeper into the West Playoffs. In fact, if history holds true, their closeout victory over the Suns bodes particularly well: each time they have beaten their rivals from the desert in the post-season since 2003, they have gone on to win an NBA Finals that absolutely no one watched or cared about.
It all seemed so familiar: squeaky-clean David the Admiral sitting courtside, flashing lights in the shape of a buckaroo and bronco lighting up the rafters at the AT&T Center, and Timmay Duncan putting the series away with a pair of last-second free throws amongst a bombardment of ridiculous “M.V.P.” chants. In the West Semis,
