The NBA Finals proved the Heat and Spurs are in a league of their own
Soon it would be replaced by a trophy—two, to be exact, an NBA Championship and the Finals MVP—but for now, LeBron James holds a bright-orange Spalding as the clock winds down at the American Airlines Arena in Miami. After 5,039 minutes of play, all that matters is this last one. On the previous play, of course, Tim Duncan missed a running hook—a shot he’s made more than a few times in his 16-year career—that would have tied game seven. Instead, the miss gave Miami possession, up two with 39 seconds left. LeBron waits, his sneakers touching the tip of the flames of the Heat logo at half court. The shot clock drops to single digits, and the league’s greatest player makes his move, bullying his way past Tony Parker to a step inside the three-point line. Surrounded by white, like in a dream, LeBron squares to the basket, rises into the air and, fading backwards, cocks his right arm for a jumper.
Before it came down to that moment, that final dagger to shut the series down for good, we had already been treated to the most dramatic NBA Finals in modern history. The two teams had been constructed differently: Miami an imposing skyline of shining glass and steel; the Spurs a seemingly indestructible fortress built with Roman concrete. (The Heat had nine lottery picks on their roster. San Antonio? Two, including late-season pickup Tracy McGrady.) But together, they provided the blueprint for success in the NBA: Acquire superstars, surround them with complimentary talent who have something to prove and convince players to accept lesser roles for the greater good. The result was a perfect showcase of first-ballot Hall of Famers (James, Duncan, Parker, Ray Allen and Dwyane Wade), elite supporting acts (Kawhi Leonard, Manu Ginobili and Chris Bosh) and unassuming glue guys (Shane Battier, Gary Neal and Tiago Splitter); of fallen icons (McGrady) and emerging stars (Danny Green); of a new cult hero (Chris Andersen), two legendary basketball minds (Gregg Popovich and Pat Riley) and two franchises that have appeared in eight of the past 15 Finals, but had never squared off with a title on the line. They didn’t disappoint. Seven games of gruelling, intense, enthralling basketball.
Fans took notice. The series gained momentum as it went along, and for game seven, more than 27 million North Americans tuned in for what was the most-watched program on television that night. All in all, a most excellent way to wrap up a post-season in which the NBA proved yet again that no league can match the overflowing stable of star talent it trots out every night.
You can judge a series based on the number of moments it generates that can be described in five words or less (think: “Havlicek stole the ball!”). There was “Parker’s circus shot” to end game one; “LeBron’s block on Splitter”; “Green’s seven threes” in game three; “the return of Dwyane Wade” in game four; “Duncan’s miss” in game seven. But none compared to the magic of game six: the Headband Game. It was the turning point of the series. Seemingly spurred on by the loss of his trademark accessory, LeBron poured in 18 of his 32 points in the fourth quarter and overtime. But it wasn’t just LeBron. There was Mike Miller’s shoeless three, Wade’s offensive board leading to a three-point play to tie the game with less than a minute to go, Leonard’s missed free throw and Bosh’s big offensive rebound leading to Allen’s bomb to send it to overtime. As the Headband Game proved, so much has to go right to win a game in the Finals, let alone the series. “You need luck to win an NBA championship, and that’s exactly what we had,” Lebron said, when asked about game six. “They missed some free throws, we made some shots and got two big offensive rebounds. Plus, we had Jesus on our side—Jesus Shuttlesworth.”
That’s what’s so great about basketball. As incredibly as LeBron played throughout the series—and particularly in the last two games (only Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Michael Jordan have won back-to-back regular season and Finals MVPs)—Miami needed Allen to step up and take the big shot with the season on the line; they needed Battier to catch fire in game seven; and in that same game, they needed Bosh to remain active around the rim despite going scoreless for the first time since his rookie year. The same can be said for San Antonio’s role players: Leonard’s emergence as a reliable third option, Neal’s shooting performance in game three, Splitter’s post presence throughout. And then there’s Green, whose poor outings in games six and seven will be forgiven thanks to his hot hand until that point. Three years ago, he was toiling in the D-League. Now his name is in the record books for most three-pointers in an NBA Finals series. From Green and Leonard to Battier and Allen, the two franchises demonstrated that there’s a blueprint that works. That when you find the right personnel, with the skills and mindset to adopt new roles, who support the team’s stars and contribute when called upon, success will follow. Looks simple enough on paper, but only the Heat and Spurs figured that out this season. It’s fitting that the result was an instant classic.
Again and again, in moment after moment, we were treated to two perfect teams matching up for the perfect series. LeBron’s dagger may have sealed it, but the 2013 NBA Finals were legendary long before that.
This story originally appeared in Sportsnet magazine. Subscribe here.