San Antonio
The Nuggets are applying a fresh coat of paint to their image, one drop of blood at a time.
An NBA franchise long known for leaving foes breathless is now more likely to leave a dent.
What’s most stunning about Denver’s 1-0 lead in this playoff series against favored San Antonio is not that the Nuggets won Game 1, but how they did it. With brute strength.
“We want to bang with you. That’s something we can do. We’ll bang around with anybody in the league,” said Nuggets forward , his voice scratchy from a cold. “We love to play physical.”
How physical the Nuggets can be is as obvious as the trickle of blood that dripped from the chin of San Antonio star Tim Duncan as he left the floor after a 93-87 series-opening loss. The Spurs were not only beaten. They were beat up.
“All in all, the physicality of the game hurt us,” San Antonio coach Gregg Popovich said.
As punishment for the defeat, Popovich forced his Spurs to sit and watch videotape proof of their weaknesses on Monday, during a film session that was longer and edgier than “Kill Bill,” Volumes 1 and 2.
The lasting images of the series opener left an impression as raw as a five-day bruise.
Denver forward forced Duncan to fumble for the handle of an entry pass with one hand, because K-Mart had blatantly pinned the other arm behind Duncan’s back.
ate a sharp elbow from San Antonio guard Manu Ginobili, spat out the pain and came back for more.
In the fourth quarter, when players were so tired that both teams had trouble seeing or shooting straight, the Nuggets were left standing with the victory, only because they were too mean and nasty to fold.
“These are not the Doug Moe Nuggets from the 1980s,” said Denver guard , meaning no disrespect to Alex English or Calvin Natt. “But all the points we score now is really a mirage of what kind of team we really are. We frustrate teams by getting stops.”
“Don’t mess with Texas” is the law of the land in these parts. The Nuggets seem bent on breaking it.
Although misfiring on his shot often in Game 1, Martin sweetly kissed one mid-range jumper off the glass for two points, then promptly made a point of letting Duncan know about it.
“Good shot,” Duncan said, offering congratulations as both players turned to run down the court.
“That was Tim Duncan School,” Martin replied, brashly reminding Duncan his signature offensive play had been ripped off in his own house.
“I tried to get him with his own move,” Martin told me before the Nuggets took the court for a morning practice, happily confessing to his trash talk. He said the gamesmanship was born of respect, in hopes of disrupting a respected adversary by any means necessary.
There is nothing subtle about the underdogs’ strategy. Denver is trying to worm its way into the head of an ailing Duncan and break the will of the Spurs with as many big collisions as the rules will allow.
While far from the thuggery Pat Riley promoted when he coached the New York Knicks, Karl obviously is itching for a fight with a San Antonio team that prides itself on toughness. The Nuggets think they can win this series on a physical dare.
“Physicality means different things to different people. It doesn’t have anything to do with beating your chest or hitting people or anything like that,” Popovich said. “It’s just being more focused in making cuts, posting up and blocking out. All of those sort of things add up.”
On the eve of the series, before reaching for his war metaphors, Nuggets coach George Karl was asked what physical traits separated winners from losers in the postseason.
“The heart and the brain become much more important than skills,” Karl said.
More often than not, the Nuggets would lose a game of pure skill to San Antonio. But who said the NBA playoffs had to be a clean, fair fight?
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-820-5438 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
