Conference Finals Post-Mortem

Sunday afternoon, and there is no NBA basketball. We haven't had this sorry state of affairs since the end of football season. For My beloved Suns, it is, at last, not a fluke of the scheduling fairies. Their season is over, and the final act of the 2005-2006 NBA season is about to take place.

The Suns just ran out of gas. There's no other suitable explanation for it. Let me be clear: the Dallas mavericks could have beaten even a fresh Phoenix Suns in game seven in Dallas. But their victory in Game 6 in Phoenix had as much to do with the Suns depleted ranks as any other factor. The Suns had an 18 point lead, and ended up losing by nine. That's a sign that there isn't enough hydrogen to fuse into helium.

The Pistons didn't have enough fuel either. The Miami Heat came together and played a couple of superb games, but they weren't playing them against that same Detroit team that terrorized the eastern conference throughout the regular season.

Both the Pistons and the Suns were victimized by short rotations, caused by a thin or inappropriate bench. Depth matters as much as size or speed or shooting percentage. NBA athletes are among the most well conditioned in all of pro sports, and most of them could play tip-off to buzzer without collapsing in a heap. In the playoffs, though, there are few easy games, short rest (compared to the regular season), and just a bit of added pressure that takes its' toll both physically and mentally.

Its' not just fresh legs coming off the bench, but a fresh brain as well.

Now, before you cry for them, barnstorming teams used to play 120 games every season. Counting exhibition, the Suns had played 112 games before they were finally eliminated. That's the season record (the Heat might top it if the Finals go seven games). And they're clearly cooked at this point. Witness Steve Nash losing his dribble in back to back possessions in the fourth quarter.

The players of the twenties and thirties, however, were also made of harder stuff than today's athletes. Dutch Deinhart, the center of the "Original" (meaning New York) Celtics, who essentially invented the pivot play, got into basketball because his alternative was coal mining. That's a whole different set of perspectives and motivations.

The Suns had a better season than anyone gave them a right to have. With Tim Thomas being the only unrestricted free agent, they have the means to keep this squad mostly intact, along with a presumably healthy Amare Stoudamire. That will be a whole different set of expectations. This time, when the Phoenicians mutter "Wait `til next year..." that's not just a soothing chant.

Meanwhile, I'm a Mavericks Fan, true to my tradition of rooting for whoever eliminates the Suns. And even without my newfound partisanship, I think they could beat the Heat. After watching what passed for jump-shooting in game six of the eastern conference finals, I believe the Suns could've blazed through them as well. But Pat Riley is the Darth Vader of NBA coaches: it is understandable to despise him, but folly to underestimate him.

Meanwhile, Avery Johnson is spared the anneurism I have long rpedicted that the Mavericks defense would give him. He might be starting to believe now.

I certainly do.