There’s no easy way to describe the career of Steve Nash. He’ll be remembered as an all-time great passer (which is true, he’s third all-time in assists), but many people probably think his passing alone makes him a Hall of Famer. That’s not true. In fact, Nash only has one(!) more career assist than Mark Jackson, who’s hardly a Hall of Famer. Nash will go down as one of the worst two-time MVP’s in NBA history. That’s unfair to him; it’s not his fault people voted for him over Kobe Bryant and/or Shaq (both of whom only have one MVP). Nash will also always get included on those “best player to never win a title” lists with Charles Barkley and Karl Malone. On the flip side, Nash quite possibly will never get enough credit for being one of the game’s best shooters, ever. And it remains to be seen if Nash (and his coach in Phoenix, Mike d’Antoni) get the recognition they deserve for ushering in a new era, setting the precedent for the league’s current wave of uptempo, pace-and-space offense.
It was hardly Nash’s fault his teams never made it to the Finals. Year after year, they were the victim of ridiculous buzzer-beating shots and questionable calls (like when Amar’e Stoudemire and Boris Diaw were suspended for leaving the bench during the 2007 series against the San Antonio Spurs).
Nash played the bulk of his career (during the early-to-mid-2000s) in an era when it wasn’t all that clear where the NBA ended and gangster rap started (or vice-versa). Nash was the anti-whatever-that-was; he was the good guy when it was more marketable to be a villain; the league’s most unselfish player when selfish play was at an all-time high. (Ironically, there was a point in time where Nash led the league in being fined for disobeying the dress code then-Commissioner David Stern instituted to distance the NBA from the gangster rap image.)
Nash’s style was unmistakably unique. It’s much-documented that he grew up playing soccer in Canada; the soccer influence oozed out of his game. He was always under control, yet had a free-styling element in everything he did. Simply put: Steve Nash is a virtuoso with a basketball in his hand.
In hindsight, Nash kind of reminds me of an experiment that was done in Boston a few years back. Researchers wanted to study people’s awareness of greatness in different circumstances, so they took a world-class violinist, dressed him in ordinary clothes, and had him play on a Boston subway platform. He made something like six dollars in tips over several hours, and very few people stopped to appreciate the greatness they were witnessing. The majority of people just scurried about their busy lives, not recognizing the once in a lifetime opportunity for a free show with one of the best musicians on the planet. That’s Steve Nash. Physically, he doesn’t look like a Hall of Fame player. Put him on the court by himself, and he’s just a guy with kind of a weird hairstyle draining jumpers and can’t dunk; he’s the absurdly talented violinist playing by himself on a subway platform going unnoticed. But surround him with NBA teammates to receive his pinpoint passes and defenders for him to embarrass with his handle, and you get a player who deserves basketball immortality.
When it comes to Nash’s shooting, consider this: Steve Nash’s career field goal, three-point, and free throw percentages (of .490/.428/.904) are all better than Steph Curry’s career numbers in those categories (.469/.436/.900). That’s pretty amazing. Especially considering what Curry is doing this year. But while Curry is currently doing it, Nash has been there, done that. Although Nash never averaged more than 20 points per game in a season, those numbers speak for themselves from an efficiency standpoint.
On the defensive end, Nash will always be considered a poor defender. While that’s probably true, he wasn’t given any favors. By virtue of the style his Suns teams’ played, the outputs of the opposing team gets a little out of whack. Which is to say: Phoenix wanted to create as many possessions possible, and they dared whoever they were playing to outscore them (and they were right most of the time). Give up a layup on defense? No worries, we’ll get an open three on offense. Plus, Nash never had an elite rim protector to aid him on defense. Shawn Marion was an elite athlete, but his defensive value was in locking a guy down one-on-one, not helping at the rim. Amar’e Stoudemire was a decent shot-blocker, but lacked the instincts (and perhaps interest) on defense to the difference-maker he could have been. By no means a great, or even above-average defender, it might be unfair to isolate Nash’s effectiveness (or ineffectiveness) by itself without context.
It’ll be interesting to see how Nash’s career is remembered years from now. It has the potential to be greatly misinterpreted — given too much credit in some areas, not enough in others. Never winning a championship will always be the ‘foreign object’ in the punch bowl. (Nash doesn’t even have a team award outside the NBA; Barkley and Malone can at least say they were part of the gold medal-winning “Dream Team.”) But Nash was undoubtedly great, it’s just a shame that one of the league most unselfish players historically will walk away with only individual awards to show for his work. Then again, maybe the irony of the ultimate teammate retiring with two MVPs and no team awards is symbolic of a complex and (perhaps) misunderstood career.
