Typically, a 145-130 loss isn’t cause for celebration. But typically, a player on the losing team doesn’t make history in the process.
Last night against the Houston Rockets, Steve Nash made his way past Mark Jackson to move into third on the NBA’s assist leaderboard with 10,335, behind only former teammate Jason Kidd (12,091) and John Stockton (15,806).
It’s an impressive feat, to say the least, with names like Magic Johnson, Oscar Robertson, Isiah Thomas and Gary Payton all in the top 10 behind Nash. And while the Lakers point guard and Canadian senior men’s team GM acknowledged as much, it wasn’t nearly enough to fix what has been an ugly season in Los Angeles, in which Nash has appeared in just 15 games recovering from a broken leg suffered in 2012 during his first game in a Laker uniform.
"I guess it’s kind of poetic in some ways," Nash told reporters after the game. "To actually have a positive moment at the end of the season. But for me I wanted this to pass and move on. It’s a great honour, but it’s not something that I was tracking."
You can understand why a guy with likely just one season left and still chasing his first championship would be deferential towards an individual statistical accomplish, however impressive it is. That’s because Nash is likely well aware that winning, not statistics, is the ultimate measure of success for a pro athlete, especially when assessing a body of work spanning ones entire career.
So when looking at Nash’s legacy now, particularly in relation to the other names surrounding him on the assists list, one prevailing question stands out: how much weight should we put into championships when evaluating these guys?
Look, it’s no secret that Nash’s Hall of Fame status and place among the greatest point guards ever was established a long time ago. Two consecutive MVPs and five seasons of leading the league in assists will do that for you.
But he’ll likely never win a championship.
The list of Hall of Fame-calibre players without titles is a long one — and in a current era thoroughly dominated by two superstars, it’s only getting longer. Think of other iconic players of Nash’s generation: Allen Iverson, an era-defining superstar, got to the Finals but could never seal the deal. Tracy McGrady, an absolute scoring machine, never got past the first round. Vince Carter, a force in his prime, will probably never win a title.
I’d argue those were the three most popular players of their time. And all three are sure-fire first ballot Hall of Famers. But are they lesser players in the grand scheme of things because they never put a ring on it? There’s no right answer (aren’t sports debates the best?), but I suspect most would lean toward ‘yes.’
Perhaps no player in the history of the game can appreciate the importance of hoisting that trophy more than Jerry West. Over his career, the Lakers legend led his team to the Finals a whopping nine times throughout the ‘60s, yet only managed to win the thing once, on the ninth try in 1972.
That ’72 title exorcised many demons for West, but when I spoke to The Logo recently about his career and mentioned his long-time teammate Elgin Baylor, who was forced to retire just nine games into that ’72 season due to injury, West’s voice became sullen. Instead of looking back on the moment with joy, he lamented the missed opportunity for his friend.
"We’d get so close it was like being teased; you almost started to expect that something good was not going to happen," says West. "So when we won it was one of those magical moments, but it was so ironic that Elgin wasn’t able to play."
For my money, Baylor is the single greatest player to never win a championship. This isn’t a forum to tout his accomplishments or tell the amazing story of his career (that’s what Google is for, kids), but I firmly believe that the only reason you don’t often hear Baylor’s name among the likes of West, Bill Russell, Wilt Chamberlain, Michael Jordan, Larry Bird and others of that calibre, is because when we look back today the record books show he was never a part of a championship team.
“Even though we had won, I always felt for Elgin," West says. "The team gave him a ring, and he had his moment, a wonderful retirement ceremony earlier that year, but to this day it pains me that he never took it home. I just hope people remember how great of a player he was, and how instrumental he was to the Lakers success all those years.”
In his Book of Basketball, Bill Simmons pitches the idea of the NBA Hall of Fame adopting a pyramid model based on different hierarchies of players. While there are flaws in his specific ideas for execution, the gist is bang on: there are different degrees of Hall of Famers. Michael Jordan (Class of ‘09) is on a different level than Mitch Richmond (Class of ’14) or Dave Bing (Class of ’90). Controversial, I know. All are bona fide HoFers, but obviously some careers are better than others and so often it’s the title count that makes the difference.
Interestingly enough it was on this day 36 years ago, the final day of the ’77-78 NBA season, two of the greatest offensive players of all-time, George Gervin and David Thompson, engaged in a scoring duel for the ages. With the season scoring title on the line (the two were in a virtual dead lock, with Gervin slightly up), Thompson scored an unbelievable 73 points, only to watch the Iceman drop 63 later that night.
The point? You’d be hard-pressed to find more gifted offensive players than those two Hall of Famers. But neither won a championship. So will that be what we remember fifty, sixty years down the line? Or will their countless other accomplishments make up for it?
Which brings us back to Nash.
His resume already makes him a Hall of Fame lock, and his latest accomplishment only solidifies his stature in the game. But when all is said and done, how will we remember Nash in relation to the other great point guards that have come through the league? Statistically, Nash’s career numbers are in the ballpark of players like Isiah and Magic, but apart from being superior defenders, those guys won titles. Lots of ‘em. And what about, say, Tony Parker, who will never come near the assists numbers of Nash, but will retire a multi-time champion with a Finals MVP to his name. What do we value as sports fans?
For now, it seems as though the guys with the rings will always sit above guys like Nash and Iverson on the legends food chain. Maybe that’s just as nature intended.