Even Steve Nash didn’t see this one coming: back-to-back NBA MVP’s for the longhaired kid from Victoria, BC. His reaction, predictably, was disbelief and surprise as he described his twin MVP titles as “thrilling, comedic, and unbelievable.” He went so far as to say that he was “uncomfortable to be singled out.”
It is easy to be put off with the “me first” mentalities of this modern era. Smug, greedy, individualist athletes exhale a constant stream of polluted vulgarities, from the petty grievances of Terrell Owens to Latrell Sprewell’s almost laughable demand for more money to “feed his family.” In comparison, Nash is a breath of fresh air.
He is the definition of humility. When he won his first MVP award last season, he invited his teammates to join him on stage. Throughout his career, Nash has always preached an unselfish team-first mentality, producing one of the most exciting “run and gun” offences in decades. With Nash at the helm of the Phoenix offence, their exciting fast-paced play has led the league in points per game the last two seasons. He is the engine that makes them go.
When the Suns lost three of their top scorers in the off-season, many basketball pundits predicted that the Suns would sputter towards an inferior season. But Nash found a way to make it work. With journeymen players in Boris Diaw, Raja Bell, and Leandro Barbosa, Nash made it work. The three all finished with career highs in scoring this year, thanks to Nash’s league-leading stat of nearly eleven assists per game. Throw in his 50 per cent field goal percentage, 40 per cent clip from the arc, and 92 per cent rate from the free-throw line (good enough for tops in the league), and Nash makes his argument for MVP awfully sound.
Many basketball purists have become annoyed with high-flying dunks. These plays, while impressive, do not win games. Larry Brown, the coach of the hapless Knicks, referred to Knick Nate Robinson as a “highlight reel” but not a real player. Ladies and gentlemen, Steve Nash is a very real player.
He has brought back the art of the assist, and he’s made the pass cool again. His play harks back to an era of pure point guards: the Stocktons, the Isiahs, the Magics. Just don’t mention these comparisons without expecting a blush or two. When reminded that his name is now in the history books with the likes of Jordan, Magic, and Bird, his reply was “Who doesn’t belong?” accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. Typical Steve.
