Dear Tim,
I was eight years old when you were drafted in 1997. I knew very little about life and even less about my future. Regardless, I watched with wide eyes as David Stern said, “With the 1st pick in the 1997 NBA draft, the San Antonio Spurs select Tim Duncan from Wake Forest University”.
My brother and I jumped up and down excitedly. This would be the first of many times when you would bring immense joy to our home.
Your future looked bright. You were coming off of your best season at Wake Forest University, averaging a double-double in the 96-97 season. Each season your numbers went up as your confidence grew.
So there you were, a young man playing a small market NBA team and you couldn’t have seemed more comfortable. Writers and analysts like to imagine what it would’ve been like if you had played for the New York Knicks or the Boston Celtics. If you had played in one of those big market cities, I believe your path would have still led you to San Antonio. San Antonio is where you were destined to be.
Photo credit NBA.com
After playing in San Antonio for just two seasons, you took the Spurs to their first NBA Finals. Some might argue that there were better basketball teams from top to bottom that season, but no one else had a player like you on their team. When you gave San Antonio its first championship you also made us believe that it was only the first of many. That first championship was pure magic, something that the city of San Antonio had never experienced before or since. We soaked it in, knowing that these things don’t always happen again.
After the 1999 championship, the world returned to normal, sort of. Remember Y2K? I remember my Dad wanting to store canned food and sharpen up his survival skills, but I was a ten year boy and couldn’t have been happier. The Spurs had won their first championship! I got my first life sized Tim Duncan poster that summer! Every day my brother and I would play intensely on the back-of-the-door basket hung in our bedroom. I would pretend to be you, dominating my room and being the best I could be. Life was good. Really good!
In the summer of 2000 you gave me a bit of a scare. I heard you were being courted by the Orlando Magic. In a world before Twitter, I remember anxiously waiting to watch the local sports news. I’ll never forget that footage of you exiting a vehicle with Doc Rivers. You had been in the league just a few years and had already delivered a championship to San Antonio. A world without you in San Antonio was a world I didn’t want to imagine. I anxiously awaited your decision.
Without hesitation, you chose to stay in San Antonio.
Without realizing it, you were laying another brick in the foundation of a franchise that would be highly regarded for two decades; a franchise that would be ahead of the curve in so many ways and known for its loyalty to its players. Only you could do this without bringing glory to yourself – a quality that would become part of the ‘Spurs Way.’ Without holding a huge press conference, you stuck with the Spurs.
You continued to do your thing and I continued to do mine. In those next few years I would find myself watching Dawson’s Creek and X-Files and listening to Creed, Staind and laughing at the kids who talked about the Backstreet Boys. My brother and I watched every single Spurs game on TV. When the team won, we would rejoice. When you didn’t, we were heart broken. The next couple of seasons were good, but the Spurs struggled against those Shaq and Kobe-led teams in Los Angeles. Those battles were epic and for a while the Lakers got the best of you and the Spurs.
Then 2003 rolled around. I was fifteen years old now and my world was changing, albeit with a few constants. I knew God was real, I knew I liked girls A LOT and I knew the Spurs were on another title run, something that was becoming routine, the kind of thing I could really depend on as a teenager, when everything else in life seemed to be strangely out of place.
David Robinson announced that the 2002-2003 season would be his last. While we were in denial, we knew that ultimately the franchise was going to be in good hands with you at the helm. I believe you willed the Spurs to another NBA Finals appearance, knowing that your mentor, the Admiral, would only have one more shot at NBA glory. The journey to that year’s Finals was not an easy one, by any stretch. I remember those playoffs starting off very shakily against the Phoenix Suns. The Spurs lost game one in overtime, but were able to gain control of the series and win it in six games. In round two, you faced that infamous Shaq-Kobe duo. They were considered unbeatable at the time, but they didn’t have you. Once again you showed your prowess against the three time defending champion Lakers and sent them on vacation – a feat not many believed was achievable. The Western Conference Finals rolled around and you had to face your I-35 nemesis, the Dallas Mavericks. Again you would lose game one, but eventually take that series in six games.
After going through the gauntlet that was the Western Conference, the New Jersey Nets were no match for the likes of the Spurs. You carried the Spurs to their second championship, one that would leave no doubt about your abilities and would send the Admiral into retirement as a two-time NBA champion. I will never forget how you spoke after those Finals about “doing it for David.”
By the time 2005 came around, my life was much different from those early years when my brother and I were jumping up and down together. He met a girl online and moved away to New Jersey. My life was not the same without him. He was my older brother whom I counted on for so much. Without him I went through a phase of being very angry at everything. Like many teenagers, I wanted to live for the moment and didn’t care what got in my way. I was far from that eight year old boy who had watched you get drafted.
While I was busy being angry at the world, you were busy taking us to another NBA Finals. Are you kidding me?! A third Finals appearance. Many players struggle to get to the Finals just once in their career, but at the age of 29 were headed to your third. Spurs fans know the rest of the story of 2005. Alongside a young Tony Parker and Manu Ginobili, you began to show the world what the “Big Three” was all about, winning a third championship in seven games against a very tough Pistons team. You dominated that series and added another Finals MVP to your trophy room.
The 2005 championship was different for me. My brother wasn’t there to celebrate the victory with me. As angry as I was at this time, you brought sheer joy to my life, Tim. As I watched you hold that Finals MVP trophy, I felt like together, you and I, could get through anything. I could overcome anything if I could only be a champion like you.
Then it was 2007 and I was home after my first year in college. Things were looking up for me. I had a steady girlfriend, I felt a little less angry, and here we go baby, the Spurs were headed to another Finals! I watched intensely in disbelief as you and the Spurs dismantled the LeBron James-led Cleveland Cavaliers. I remember watching and thinking how sweet it felt and how much I hoped it would never end.
After the 2007 championship, I started to catch on to your routine. Every other year the Spurs would win a championship, right? No. That was when the drought began. The Spurs continued to be competitive, of cours, but for whatever reason could not climb over that hump and make it back to the Finals. You were still consistently great, but a few injuries to your knee and Father Time begin to make you more aware of the importance of taking care of your body.
While you were figuring out how to prolong your career and be effective, I was trying to figure things out for myself. In 2008 I got engaged, then broke off the engagement because I didn’t know what the heck I was getting into. In 2009 I was going through a stage of relentless partying and drinking, making a mess of my life as well as other lives I affected. In that same year I met a girl who would later become my wife. She reminded me of who I was and what life is really about. I started to get my act together and grew up. In September 2011 I get married to that girl and we began our lives together.
By 2013 it seemed everyone had dismissed the Spurs chances of winning another NBA championship. All the familiar narratives were told: “the Spurs are too old,” “Tim is finished” and “the Spurs system is no longer relevant.” The media was as vicious as ever, talking about you in the past tense, saying that the NBA big man is becoming obsolete and that you were on the decline. In all that noise you remained focused. You accepted your new role and took the backseat to allow other Spurs players to shine. With your new focus, you took the team back to another Finals, truly a remarkable feat.
After six years of being knocked out by other Western Conference teams, the Spurs finally made it back to the Final. Unfortunately you faced a hungry and in-his-prime LeBron James, along with a cast of All-Stars and future Hall of Fame players. It still hurts to look back on that series. Ray Allen sunk a three point dagger in Game six, taking the wind out of the Spurs and eventually stealing the series. I could see it in your face after the 2013 Finals loss. You carried the full burden of that loss on your shoulders. You knew the team could’ve won that series and you couldn’t wait to get back to work the next season to finish what you started.
As soon as the 2013-14 season began, I could see the focus in your eyes. It was contagious and all of your teammates seemed to feel the same thing. You couldn’t wait to get through the regular season. You had something to prove. Sure enough, knowing your role and now leading by example, you helped the Spurs roll past the Thunder to win the Western Conference Finals. I will never forget your words after that series. It has stuck with me because of the confidence that you showed. Once again, you were teaching me something with your character and leading by example. When asked about meeting the Miami Heat in the Finals, you replied, “We’ll do it this time.” There was no doubt or question in your mind.
The 2014 rematch of the Spurs and Heat was highly anticipated and yet again the Spurs were underdogs. No one seemed to believe that LeBron and the Heat could be beat. As I watched the series unfold, I knew that you would not let this one slip away. The ball was moving furiously, guys were getting down the court quickly and there was not a single player on that team who wanted to win it for themselves, but for each other. That team was the true definition of Spurs basketball. It was the culmination of all your years of hard work. Your selflessness had permeated the whole team. Your teammates were playing Spurs basketball, the ‘Spurs way.’
David J. Philip, AP Photo
Seven years removed from your last championship, you helped bring a fifth title to the city of San Antonio. An unbelievable accomplishment. This was my favorite championship. My brother now lived back in Texas and as the Spurs won that title we jumped up and down, just like the day when the Spurs drafted you in 1997. We hugged and we cried. This one was the best!
As I watched you walk off the court in the 2016 Western Conference Semifinals, I couldn’t help but feel that this was it for you. I had never seen the look that I saw on your face as you waived one last time to the Oklahoma City crowd. With your head down, not wanting any attention, you said good bye and I knew that was it.
As I look back at my life, I can’t help but feel that our lives are somehow intertwined. I am now a 27 year old pastor, a father to be of a little boy, and far removed from the rebellious teen and lost 20 year old I once was. You are also far removed from what you used to be physically, but your character is as strong now as it ever was and that will live on. You have taught me so many things, Tim: to not seek vain glory, to not shy away from a big moment, and win each moment with humility and class.
No mere words can define you, Timothy Theodore Duncan. While I know you would never for a moment take the credit, you are the definition of the ‘Spurs Way,’ because you created it. Everything that the Spurs organization is now known for is rooted in your character. You made San Antonio into a championship city and put us on the map. For everything you did for the city and for me, I would like to say, “Thanks, Timmy.”
