It was the first November 4th of the new millennium when I realized Kevin Garnett was the greatest basketball player I had ever seen. Mailk Sealy, silky smooth T-Wolves shooting guard, jazz enthusiast, Whoopi Goldberg co-star and men’s’ tie designer had been killed by a drunken driver the previous summer. The recently retired #2 in the rafters wore somberly on the crowd - from the moment of silence to the lightheartedness of the cheers. If not for the cameras, expensive tickets and visiting Sacramento Kings I don’t think anyone would have cared if the game had not been played.
Everything changed in the second quarter. A Kings player jacked up an errant three, the ball ricocheting off the rim, well overhead of the four players boxing out near the hoop. Then it happened – I saw Kevin jump high above the other three, his arm extending back until at the peak of his jump, his right hand a perfect 90° from his torso, the ball coming to rest on his fingertips. Then with feline-quick speed he arched the ball 180°, slamming it fiercely through the hoop. He turned to face the opponents’ rim, paused briefly, looked up and pointed passionately at the blue and black #2 banner above, as the crowd stood as fast as they ever had, and cheered as hard as they ever will. In that one freakish play, that one instant, KG spoke more eloquently than the best eulogy. And in that moment KG transcended basketball in the hearts of Wolves fans, a collective weight lifted with those two points. Like he did every game, frothing at the mouth during fourth quarters, screaming at inanimate post cushions or meditating on the bench, KG was filling the balloon to the bursting point.
Now KG is filling Boston’s balloon. And soaring high they are. KG transformed every single facet of one of the best teams of all time and precipitated the biggest win-loss turnaround in NBA history.
With all respect due to Chris Paul of the New Orleans Hornets - whose numbers make Steve Nash look like the truly fraudulent MVP he was twice, and whose commercials pleading the Mailman for an extra steak and dancing with an umbrella behind a Mardi Gras Crewe are possibly the best NBA commercials of all time- the MVP race this season comes down to Kobe and KG. Best player for the best team in the East vs. Best player for the best team in the West.
Ralph Wiley, perhaps the greatest NBA writer of all time, foresaw this season. In his 2003 article, “The Good, the Bad, the Next MJ”, Wiley compares Kobe to KG, and both to the deity Jordan. At the time I agreed with him. “Bad Jordan” Kobe was too selfish to ever lead a functional team and “Good Jordan” KG was too unselfish to dominate in the fourth quarter and at the times his team needed him to score.
Unfortunately Ralph never was able to see just how good the good Jordan could be.
Ralph wrote “KG is Next Level, the next level of ball after Jordan, only he's too good, too nice, too sweet.” But Ralph didn’t know this forsaken sports purgatory of 10,000 lakes and the “Minnesota Nice” that leaves us staring at unbending fishing poles as David Ortiz wins championships for the Red Sox or Randy Moss goes undefeated with the Patriots. KG WAS Minnesota Sports for a decade as we watched him bleed blue and green blood for us without any regrets and without any blame - a fading vision of Kirby Puckett in his eye and an inexplicable loyalty in his heart.
And look at him now Ralph, now in a real sports atmosphere, no longer obliged to represent the phony Minnesota Nice - not the good Jordan, just KG. His determination and will could have added ten wins to this Boston team from the bench without playing a single game. Instead he played as he always has, wrists up, screaming, pointing at the rafters and blowing his lungs out into that glorious collective balloon we call team basketball.
There is only one person in Boston who doesn’t know KG and her name is Colleen. Everyone else can hear him screaming, everyone else can feel the balloon rising, and everyone knows how gigantic a mere seven footers lungs can be.
Fuck the MVP. The NBA should give KG a lifetime achievement award and then name it after him.
“The Wizard of Oz ain’t got shit on KG!” The balloon is finally free, rising up and up...
Ralph, you were there, and Malik, you were there, and Dominic and Monica, you were there too…
-dedicated to Ralph Wiley.
