In the Presence of Greatness
Victor Wembanyama and the Spurs tradition of excellence
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The NBA experience means something different in San Antonio than it does in New York for the simple reason that the Spurs are the only game in town. For many years, this was also true in places like Phoenix, Portland, Indy, Salt Lake City, and East Rutherford where the NBA put down its roots during its first growth period. Of all the oddball places to host an NBA franchise, the Spurs stand out for their long-standing commitment to excellence.
By channeling the camaraderie of the old Celtics and Knicks and consistently staying one step ahead of the analytic curve, under Gregg Popovich and R.C. Buford the Spurs became the model NBA franchise of the 21st Century. Not only for small markets to emulate, but for the whole league to follow their lead. Yet, in San Antonio, the Spurs have created something far more enduring than a legacy of championships. To the people who live there, the Spurs are family.
When a paradigm-defining talent like Victor Wembanyama came along, every serious basketball observer wanted the Spurs to win the lottery. Please, give this young man a structure and supporting cast worthy of his talent. And before you say it’s unfair that the Spurs already drafted David Robinson and Tim Duncan: Did you really want Wemby wasting away his youth on the freaking Wizards?
Wembanyama is not being asked to carry the franchise in a traditional sense. He is being asked to carry on a tradition of excellence that began with Robinson’s arrival in 1989. With the Admiral posting outrageous numbers, the Spurs made the playoffs seven straight times before a down year in 1996-97 allowed them to win the lottery (again) and draft Duncan.
Plenty of franchises have screwed up this scenario in the past either through poor management or rotten luck. The Rockets had Ralph Sampson and Hakeem Olajuwon and only reached the Finals once before Sampson’s knees gave out. The Magic had Shaq and Penny. The Pelicans drafted AD and Zion.
With Pop and RC firmly in control of the operation, the Spurs capitalized on their good fortune by making the playoffs 22 straight seasons and winning five championships across three decades. Some organizations have strong draft records. Others are adept at building championship-worthy rosters. The Spurs do both as well as anyone else in the league. What other franchise would you trust to take care of Wemby’s career than this one? What better environment could there be to nurture the young man than the loving embrace of San Antonio?
Long before the Admiral decamped for the Alamo, the Spurs represented one of the most endearing leftover artifacts from the merger with the American Basketball Association. Earthier than the still-funkified Nuggets, hipper than the stodgy old Pacers, and way more forward thinking than the eternally shortsighted Nets, the Spurs managed to stay relevant through the late 70s and early 80s.
If you are of a certain age, your first Spurs memory is that of the Iceman soaring to the hoop in silver and black. There had never been a player like George Gervin in the history of basketball, and there has never been anyone else like him since. (Kevin Durant has the body, but a completely different game.) As former Spurs owner Angelo Drossos put it in “Loose Balls,” Terry Pluto’s magnificent oral history of the American Basketball Association: “George Gervin was to San Antonio what Babe Ruth was to New York.”
Gervin is so well remembered because he played exceptionally well into the mid-80s. Others weren’t so fortunate. James Silas once finished in a 3-way tie for second in the MVP voting during San Antonio’s final season in the ABA, but wrecked his knee and was never the same after the merger. It was the Spurs’ misfortune to be blessed with great talent and cursed by the fates. Yet, the Iceman always kept them cool.
The only thing more sublime than Gervin’s finger roll were the tales of his arrival on the basketball scene. Legend has it that Johnny “Red” Kerr heard about Gervin from the athletic director at Purdue who told him about a skinny teenager from Eastern Michigan who shot 16–for-19 in a freshman game. Kerr says he finally caught up with Gervin during a college All-Star Game and likened the moment to discovering Elvis.
Kerr then told Virginia Squires general manager Al Bianchi who told Squires owner Earl Foreman to sign the kid immediately. Foreman says it was Sonny Vaccaro (yes, that Sonny Vaccaro) who tipped him off and had Bianchi check out the lead. Who cares how much of it is true and how much is myth. Absolutely none of it would be possible today, and we haven’t even gotten to the lawsuits yet.
Even though Foreman had momentarily paired George Gervin and Julius Erving on the same team, the Squires were constantly operating under financial distress. Drossos knew Foreman needed cash and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Drossos agreed to pay Foreman $225K for Gervin, and secretly allow Ice to stay with Virginia for several months through the upcoming All-Star Game, which the Squires were hosting. The press found out. Foreman tried to back out of the deal and had the league on his side given the blatantly illegal terms of the trade. Per ABA custom, litigation soon followed. Drossos had his checkbook and the Texas courts on his side. Guess who won?
Gervin’s arrival in San Antonio overlapped with that of Silas, a multi-talented guard from Stephen F. Austin who went undrafted by a league who loved nothing more than conducting drafts. Silas blended with Ice perfectly. Then came Bob Bass, the coach who opened up the floor with a 1-4 spread offense that effectively made Gervin the world’s tallest scoring guard. A love affair between the city and team was born, epitomized by the hard-working and even harder-living bunch of rowdies known as the Baseline Bums who sat courtside and made life miserable for opposing players and officials.
All of these tales come straight from “Loose Balls,” one of the best basketball books ever written. Reading it in the 90s when it first came out felt like connecting dots to a past I could relate to and understand. Reading it now feels like hearing stories from another galaxy. What’s essential about places like San Antonio still existing on the NBA map is they tie the whole history of the league together. Without the Spurs, or any other number of small market fans who supported the league through its growing pains with their passion and devotion to their hometown teams, there is no NBA.
The history of the Spurs – and the NBA itself – is much larger than one small market franchise overcoming the odds. Much like it can’t be told without the phenomenally sordid history of the ABA, there’s a chapter devoted to the straight-arrow career of David Robinson (the first analytical superduper star), and a whole section on the Duncan-era Spurs. Say what you will about the boring efficiency of those 2000s champs, no one in their right mind could deny the elegant beauty of the 2014 Summertime squad.
Into this tradition steps Wembanyama. Still just 22 years old, he appeared to be a worthy successor to the Robinson-Duncan lineage before he even stepped on the court. Then he did and the whole league has been forced to recalibrate expectations based on his timeline, not theirs. It’s not just Wemby’s talent that’s rare, it’s the passion that he brings to the court. This dude wants to win, badly.
We need that kind of energy in this league. What’s more, we need it in a place like San Antonio.