Midnight struck precisely as San Antonio beat Denver 126-115 in overtime. Nobody in a Nuggets uniform needed a clock to know the time.
Those 12 chimes were the bell tolling for Denver.
Down 3-1 in the best-of-seven playoff series to San Antonio, the Nuggets will now be asked to go away as quietly as the team’s long, silent march to the locker room after this heartbreaking defeat.
Want to see the picture of dejection and how teammates who share a bond deal with it?
In the back hall of the Pepsi Center, Denver point guard walked on, proving that sometimes the hardest move an NBA player can make is just putting one foot ahead of the other.
Forward , stripped to the waist, reached out and gave Boykins a little tap on the head.
No words were required.
“We might have run out gas,” Nuggets coach George Karl said early this morning.
When the cheers fade away, the difficult question about this team must be asked.
If Denver is eliminated in five games of the NBA’s opening playoff round for the second straight season, how much exactly did this team improve?
You know the answer. In sports, the scoreboard is all that counts.
And the Nuggets have not addressed their No. 1 problem in the past 12 months.
The jump shot is dying in America. A sweet 20-footer is an endangered species for a dunk-obsessed nation. Nowhere is it deader than in Denver.
The Nuggets can’t shoot straight. This is what happens when you spend all your money on brawn and none on touch.
In overtime, as all the sweat and determination of the Nuggets began slipping away, the loudest sound in the Pepsi Center was the gnashing of teeth.
Denver had nobody who could make a clutch basket from 20 feet. In the extra period, San Antonio guard Tony Parker scored 11 points, three more than all the Nuggets combined.
After a recent practice, as point guard practiced his shot, there was not enough room to wedge a $100 bill between his sneakers and the floor. Denver elder statesman Doug Moe observed that he got as much lift on his jumper as Miller did.
This is not meant to disrespect Miller. It is only mentioned to illustrate that if the Nuggets are unable to run, their offense is never pretty.
Among players in Karl’s heavy rotation, the men with the softest touch from the field are and Boykins. Denver’s most dangerous threats from perimeter are a giant and munchkin. That’s not how NBA champions are built.
Clank sounds ugliest during the playoffs. The Nuggets went more than six minutes without a basket and missed 12-of-16 shots in the second quarter.
Unless the NBA decides to adopt a rule change that awards three points for dunks, Denver will be lucky to advance past the first round of the playoffs.
When the score and throats are tight during crunch time, where does Karl turn for a crucial hoop?
“I don’t believe in go-to guys, unless you’ve got one of the top five players in basketball,” Karl said the other night, after Denver scored only 78 points while losing Game 3.
With phone calls, Camby tried recruiting Manu Ginobili, when the San Antonio’s takes-a-licking-and-keeps-ticking guard was a free agent last summer.
When that courtship failed, Nuggets general manager Kiki Vandeweghe gave a $92 million contract to Martin, who flexes his biceps like a bodybuilder, and shoots like one, as well.
In this playoff series, Martin is averaging 12 points per game.
Now for the tricky part. Regardless of how this season ends, the Nuggets need a shooter.
Scorers will flood the free-agent market. Ray Allen, Michael Redd and Jerry Stackhouse will be the next NBA players to uphold that fine capitalistic tradition of trading loyalty for big money.
The trouble is, Denver has little wiggle room under the salary cap to sign any one of them.
Not that anyone asked my advice, but Vandeweghe might have to admit his fiscal mistake on Martin and use the veteran, overpaid forward as trade bait for a shooter.
There’s no questioning the heart of Martin or the Nuggets.
What they need to avoid the heartbreak is more skill.
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-820-5438 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
