The perfect formula: the Spurs' blend of quiet consistency, explosive energy and stingy defense is a lesson in chemistry

OK, so you flunked chemistry. Perhaps you can't tell an ion from iced tea. Maybe you're a moron when it comes to boron. No problem. This is the NBA, and the chemistry lessons here are different than what you might remember from Chem 101.

Just trust the league's master chemist, Gregg Popovich, the guy who puts together and coaches the Spurs. Over the course of seven years as championship contenders, the Spurs have been aces when it comes to chemistry tests. This season--one in which the Spurs finished with the second-best record in the league (59-23), dropped their first playoff game to Denver, then buzzed the Nuggets in five--certainly has been no different.

"Things are going to happen over the course of a year," says Spurs forward Bruce Bowen. "But we have always been able to deal with whatever comes up."

This year's litany of things that have come up includes two new starters, one (center Nazr Mohammed) added at the February trading deadline and another (shooting guard Brent Barry) after the first game of the playoffs. But change has little effect on the Spurs. Popovich quickly drills new players in the Spurs way, making transition periods quick and seamless.

How else could the Spurs have lost star forward Tim Duncan for 12 games late in the season and still have gone 8-4? How else could they have brought in Glenn Robinson, a player unwanted in Philadelphia because of selfishness, just 20 days before the postseason and managed to turn hem into a productive reserve? How else could Popovich--gasp!--bench All-Star shooting guard Manu Ginobili during the playoffs and, rather than inciting a major player protest, wind up with Ginobili happily accepting his role?

As the Spurs opened their second-round series against the Sonics, the on-court results of their chemistry were obvious. San Antonio wanted to focus on limiting Ray Allen, the highest-scoring player in the postseason's first round. With just 2 minutes gone in the first quarter of Game 1, Bowen was manning Allen, but Duncan and Mohammed were watching him, too. When Allen tried to use a double screen on the baseline to pop open and receive the ball, Duncan ran out to cover him, keeping Allen from even sniffing a pass. Thus, the tone was set for the Spurs' 103-81 victory.

"That's what this team does," says forward Robert Horry. "We have each other's backs. There is not a single selfish player here."

The absence of selfishness is the most important element of Popovich's very impressive mix of chemistry. Ah, but there is much more to this lesson.

TIM DUNCAN

Iron ore. Earth's most important mineral makes up the planet's core and yields its toughest and most useful metals--iron and steel.

At the core of the Spurs is Duncan. He has carved out his niche as an anti-superstar, a player devoid of bravado, one who prefers midrange bank shots to rim-rattling dunks. He does not thump his own chest, unless, perhaps, he has a cough.

But no star player leads by example better than Duncan, and the playoffs have been proof of his toughness. He sprained his right ankle three times this season--the last and worst sprain in late March sent him to the injured list for 12 games. His teammates estimate he is operating at about 80 percent, and coach Gregg Popovich says he doesn't expect to have a fully healthy Duncan until next season.

Care to guess how many times Duncan has mentioned the ankle after a poor showing? "Not once," says teammate Robert Horry. "You'd never know he was injured."

You'd also never know he was a superstar. Although he is a two-time MVP and a maximum-contract player, Duncan demands no special treatment. In Game 3 of the Spurs' first-round series against the Nuggets, Duncan clearly was hurting from the start--he was drubbed defensively, allowing six points by Denver's Kenyon Martin in the first four minutes. Popovich lit into Duncan for his lack of defense in a way most coaches simply can't talk to their stars. Duncan accepted the criticism without complaint. His impact on the team's chemistry is clear.

"How many guys can a coach sit down and talk to like that?" says Sonics guard Antonio Daniels, Duncan's teammate in San Antonio for four years. "The other guys know if he talks to Tim that way, he is going to talk to everyone that way, and you had just better accept it. That is a great thing."

Even with the bum ankle, Duncan has been effective. He struggled at times in the team's opening series, but he has gotten stronger as the playoffs have gone on, and his 39-point, 14-rebound effort in Game 4 of the first round stands out as one of the most remarkable performances of the postseason. Even when his scoring has been unreliable, he still has drawn double-teams and has made exceptional passes out of the post.

As Popovich described the Spurs' offense in the early stages of the playoffs: "We don't know what the hell we're doing. But giving the ball to Tim Duncan is smart."