Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

Bruce Bowen has made a career out of being a cheap shot artist.

He represents the heart and soul of the San Antonio Spurs franchise. Of course, the team is defined by bad sportsmanship, cheap play, and an incredible lack of professionalism, which Bowen, Duncan, Ginobili and company perpetuate day after day, year after year.

Here's Bowen's latest attempt at purposely injuring a player, who just happens to be the star of a possible playoff opponent:



Sure, he was suspended (again), but you could make a pretty good argument why a player like this should be banned for life. A trademark Bowen move is to wait for your opponent to take a jump shot over you, then slide your feet in underneath where your opponent will land, hopefully breaking his ankles. Naturally some players, notably Ray Allen, have taken offense at this, to the point where he started a name-calling fight through various media outlets.

Way to fight like a man, Ray.

The incredible thing, however, is that the Spurs are viewed as a beacon of what's right about the NBA. The term "model franchise" is thrown around freely, and announcers and pundits routinely extol the "professionalism" and "maturity" of the franchise.

Well, here's the reality: the San Antonio Spurs are the most unlikable, unprofessional, petulant, boring, and downright offensive sports franchise in the world. Offensive to anybody who prescribes to the notion that sports are inherently good, that they bring out the best in people, and that sports are a unique remedy to society's woes. The Spurs feast on idealists like me. There's no love in their game, there's no... good. San Antonio basketball is so far removed from the essence of sports, which can be operationally defined by the faces of kids as they run up and down the soccer pitch with smiles on their faces. Running because they can, dammit! Because it's nice outside and running after a ball is fun!

And believe it or not, this idealism isn't sufficiently shattered at the professional level. You see it all the time: young men and women, playing with pride, passion, joie de vivre, jumping up and down on the bench, hugging their teammates, screaming, getting involved with the fans. It's there - it exists. Of course, San Antonio is a desolate abyss compared to this. There's no fun in Spurs basketball. No passion. The players, as well as being crybabies (Tim Duncan) and pricks (Tim Duncan), operate with the cool, devoid-of-emotion steadiness of a hitman or a surgeon, something that any true sports fan should be fundamentally opposed to at every level. For this is what makes sports different than the political world, or the private business sector, or even Academia.

At the very least, the Spurs give us bleeding-heart liberals a common enemy. If the Spurs are playing, you should care, because at the very least they're an important team - important in the sense that you love, love, love seeing them lose. It makes me happy, that's for sure.

The sun is setting on their reign of terror, and it's always nice to see the bad guys lose.

TJH