Twin engines: the Spurs, powered by the return of David Robinson and the addition of Tim Duncan, have a new outlook and a chance to bury some old issues

Sporting News, The, Dec 15, 1997 by Frank Clancy

It was one of those early regular-season games, part of the faceless November portion of the NBA schedule that gets lost and college football's rivalries and the NFL's run to the playoffs.

On this November night in Minnesota, the Spurs and the Timberwolves have been in a close game, so close there's 2.8 seconds left, and the Spurs, with the ball, trail by one.

After a timeout, Tim Duncan, one half of the Spurs' set of twin towers, sets a screen for Chuck Person, drawing Minnesota's' Kevin Garnett away from the basket. With the middle free, Avery Johnson floats the ball into tower No. 2, David Robinson.

Robinson gathers the pass 12 feet from the basket and turns to face Tom Gugliotta. Robinson fakes, beats Gugliotta with a hard drive and rolls a layup off his fingers.

And misses.

Before dejection sets in, however, Robinson is there, reaching up to tap the ball in with his right hand.

And makes the basket. Final: 93-92.

At least in this one faceless November game, a win speaks volumes about the season ahead, and about the potential of this year's Spurs. For this is a season at once filled with newness and an old urgency. It is about the arrival of one all-but-certain star, Duncan, and the return of another, Robinson.

It is about second chances.

Duncan, who fills what has for years been the team's biggest hole -- the lack of a big man to share the scoring and rebounding burden with Robinson -- is adjusting quickly to the NBA Playing power forward, he appears entirely comfortable with his back to the basket and on the high post, where he often initiates much of the team's offense. He can shoot from outside and drive with either hand. He passes and sees the court well. He's strong enough to hold his ground against most power forwards. His numbers in the Spurs' first 18 games: 15.7 points, 11.5 rebounds and 2.4 blocks.

To point out flaws in Duncan's game is to quibble. He's shooting 48 percent from the free-throw line (he shot 69 percent at Wake Forest). And he needs to cut down on his turnovers.

"I think Duncan is going to be great," one Western Conference scout says. "A lot of guys come into the league with one or two patented moves; he's got a variety of moves. A lot of players -- especially big guys -- don't know how to play good, fundamental defense. Duncan knows how to guard guys who are his size. His footwork, for a rookie, is tremendous -- it's pretty obvious he's had some real good coaching. And he works hard."

What may be most remarkable about Duncan is how gracefully he has fit in to an experienced, veteran team whose star plays the position that he played in college. On the court no less than in the locker room, Duncan is like a plebe at Robinson's alma mater: polite, respectful of his elders and eager to learn. Although he makes more than his share of spectacular plays, he usually appears content to focus quietly on the small things that win games -- setting picks, rebounding, playing defense and feeding Robinson inside.

Yet, in the playoffs, the Spurs will face enormous pressure to win. And so will Duncan. Perhaps not since James Worthy joined the Lakers in 1982 has a top pick gone to a team this good, and along with it, so many expectations. Duncan's new teammates think he'll meet the challenge. When he's playing well, Duncan gives the Spurs all that Dennis Rodman once gave them -- and more. Without, of course, the myriad distractions. "Right now, he's trying to figure out how to play beside me," Robinson says. "Once he gets comfortable, he's going to be unbelievable. He can score on the block, he's got great post moves, he's a great passer. He's going to be fantastic."

The linchpin of this team is still Robinson. He played six games last season, missing the first 18 with a sore back before going out for the rest of the year shortly after that with a broken bone in his left foot.

Robinson spent his summer in Aspen, Colo., working with the Spurs' strength coach to strengthen his abdominal muscles and increase his flexibility. (Robinson also spent time over the summer working out with Duncan.) There's nothing in his past to suggest he's fragile -- only once in his first seven seasons did he play fewer than 80 games -- but backs are easily reinjured.

If Robinson remains healthy, he'll have to confront the same issues he has faced much of his career. He has won virtually every individual award the league offers -- Rookie of the Year, Defensive Player of the Year, MVP. He has led the league in scoring, rebounding and blocked shots.

In the playoffs, though, Robinson rarely has dominated like in the regular season. In 1995, Hakeem Olajuwon blew him away in the Western Conference finals. (In Robinson's defense, the Rockets double-teamed him constantly, and he played Olajuwon without help.) A year later, after averaging 25 points and 12 rebounds a game in the regular season, Robinson averaged 19 points and nine rebounds against the Jazz in the conference semifinals. In the three games played in Salt Lake City, he scored a total of 39 points.