When it comes to mugging for the camera, nobody in the NBA is in ‘s league.
Nobody tugs on his own jersey with more look-at-me flair than Martin does after throwing down a dunk for the Nuggets.
Martin cups a hand to his ear, imploring the Denver audience for noise, with the most conviction in the business.
From Brian Dennehy to Nathan Lane, there is not a plus-size actor this side of Broadway with a bigger stage presence than Martin.
The Nuggets, however, are not paying him $90 million over seven years to be a 6-foot-9 thespian.
Here is where Martin must earn his money.
A money player comes up big in the playoffs.
“To be successful in a playoff game, you usually have to fight to get through. It just doesn’t open up for you,” Nuggets coach George Karl said Saturday.
“The greatness of the playoffs is players are pushed to go further. They’re pushed to be smarter, to be stronger, to overcome fatigue, to persevere through defeat and to think strong thoughts.”
The playoffs are why Denver surrendered three future first-round draft picks and a Brink’s truck to acquire Martin from the New Jersey Nets.
During the opening round, which begins for Denver today in San Antonio, all Martin has to do is beat Tim Duncan, as polite as a Texas cowboy and twice as tough. How tough?
The last time Martin faced Duncan in the playoffs, the meanest actor in the NBA blinked.
I would not have believed Martin backed down, if I did not see it with my own eyes.
In 2003, the NBA Finals between the Spurs and Nets were stuck somewhere in the swamps of Jersey, tied at two victories apiece. Through four games, Martin fought like the fiercest power forward on the planet. Duncan performed like the most powerful hoops force in the universe.
With everything on the line in Game 5, Duncan brought 29 points and 17 rebounds.
Martin stunk, making 2-of-8 field-goal attempts.
After the crucial 10-point road victory that resulted, the Spurs were fit to be crowned as league champs.
Oh, Martin had legitimate excuses for his lousy luck. He had missed practices with the flu. The game was played on Friday the 13th.
Martin bravely refused to blame anybody but himself.
“It was bad game at the wrong time,” said Martin, sick with lost opportunity on that June night two years ago. “I put it on my shoulders.”
Duncan was named MVP of the Finals, with omigosh stats of 24 points, 17 rebounds, five assists and five blocks per game.
In two losses that blew New Jersey out of the series, Martin cracked under the strain, missing 26-of-31 shots. He finished the Finals with an ugly 34.2 field-goal percentage.
That look of defeat on Martin’s face is what I remembered when the Nuggets made him their highest-paid player.
Magic Johnson, who knows a little about basketball, described Martin better than I ever could when the greatest point guard who ever lived said just because you pay a man a go-to salary it does not make him a go-to player.
I do like Martin, if for nothing else his knack for making reporters duck and run for cover with nothing more than a scowl. He plays the role of enforcer more convincingly than any Hollywood actor on the big screen since Samuel L. Jackson punctuated Bible verses with gunshots in “Pulp Fiction.”
Attitude is what Martin does best. He has force-fed the Nuggets a much-needed infusion of mean that makes Denver a scary team in the postseason.
“It’s our attitude, our swagger, the way we approach the game,” Martin said last week.
But nine out of 10 accountants, and every NBA general manager with a brain, would agree $90 million is a whole lot of moola to give a player who averaged 15 points and seven rebounds for the Nuggets in the prime of his NBA career.
In the feel-good story of Denver’s remarkable comeback season, Martin ranked no higher than No. 5 on the list of heroes, behind , Karl, and .
The team’s playoff motto is: Believe. And I strongly believe Denver has far more than a puncher’s chance against San Antonio, especially with Duncan hobbling on a gimpy ankle.
The Nuggets require more than swagger from Martin. K-Mart must turn on the blue light and be special.
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-820-5438 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
