John Stockton

It is All-Star Weekend in the NBA, and with it came speculation about the next batch of Hall of Famers. John Stockton, one of the best point guards in the NBA, was among those eligible. And I am hoping he does get in. Here's my own little tribute to this amazing player. I wrote this a few days after his retirement ceremony with the Utah Jazz. It still resonates as strongly as it did when I first wrote it.

John Stockton was the very first basketball point guard I adored. And I still do.

I was a huge Celtics fan, and I am a Larry Bird worshipper above all else. But when it came to point guards, John was pretty much above everyone else. I grew up on the kind of basketball that was pure, intense, and full of grace. That was in the 80s, when the usual teams that met during the playoffs were Bird’s Celtics, Magic’s Lakers, Isaiah’s Pistons, and Ralph's Rockets. I fell in love with the NBA during that era, an era that will never be replicated. It is as irreplaceable as Stockton himself.




The irony of it all was that I had to get a second glimpse of him before I was convinced of his greatness. I was originally drawn to that other high-profile Jazzman, Karl Malone. Malone was an easy player to admire. He was competitive, fiery, and often delivered (he wasn’t called The Mailman for nothing!). But I had to take a good long look at his teammate who often handed him the ball, who made it easier for him to shoot, and who set up plays for him perfectly.

John was the epitome of the point guard. He was a master of basic passing, eschewing flash for directness. As a matter of fact, of all the years I have watched John play (and mind you, I don’t regularly watch the NBA since we didn't have cable back then), I have only seen him do a behind-the-back pass TWICE. The rest, he did it by sheer mastery of ball-handling, accuracy, sharp eyesight, and instinct. Michael Jordan needed to dunk a ball to achieve greatness. John only needed to pass the ball to become legend.

I felt that no other point guard I knew came close to John. Save, probably for Magic. But the difference was that John had more charisma. Plus his personality and character was ultimately at a level Magic could not reach. At the moment, I am hard-pressed to name a guard that could fill John's shoes. Hardworking playmakers abound the NBA, but no one comes close to John's spirit and fire. Iverson is too cocky. Kidd is lackadaisacal at times. I have a crush on Jason Williams, but that's as far as I could go. Hamilton is so-so. Bibby is too inconsistent. Fisher is a Laker. Nash has zero likability. And don't get me started on Payton, that greedy schmuck. Edited to add: Rajon Rondo is fantastic, but even he couldn't fit into John's shoes.

That time when John made the game-winning triple during the NBA finals with the Bulls, he jumped so high and with so much joy that I jumped with him. He had this verve about him that was infectious. I can only aspire to so much enthusiasm. I realized then that I loved what he did. What he has done. In the past years, I was content to simply watch back and marvel at what he could do. It was only during that instance, after that buzzer-beating game-winner, that I felt his passion channel right through me. You truly felt his happiness. It was hard not to love him after that.

I also loved the fact that he never succumbed to the money. I read how Pat Riley offered John millions to play for the Heat back then. But John refused. It is through him and Malone that I’ve learned to love the Jazz, despite the fact that I was more a fan of the Eastern Conference teams (LA destroyed the West for me). He was humble, steadfast, and ferociously loyal and well-grounded. A far cry from the glitzy affairs and scandals that rock the NBA nowadays. His was a life that anyone would love to have. And he had a career that many envied. It was not about the money. It was simply about basketball. (Karl would emphasize that as well, when he moved to LA with a huge pay cut just so he could win a championship, a prize that continues to elude him to this day.)

The players loved him. Even Sir Charles, for all his bluster and gruff, could only put John on a pedestal higher than his. I got misty-eyed while watching a press conference after the Olympics in Athens, when Iverson, bemoaning the US' difficulty in winning games and commending their opponents' play, said "That's the game the way Karl Malone and John Stockton play it. It's good for kids to see how the game is supposed to be played." Hearing it from Iverson, the guy with flash and the controversy following him everywhere, who seemed to give himself more credit than anybody else (save, probably, for Tracy MacGrady), astounded me. Iverson embodied basketball selfishness. But he conceded that Stockton (and Malone) possessed the kind of skills that can only win basketball games. Hearing that from someone as young as he was just made my heart beat proudly. How true. How affirming.

Such was John’s greatness that he never did get tagged with a moniker. What else can you call a basketball player whose abilities defy description? (Edited to add: Instead, you get all these places named after him!) Nothing seemed right for him. What did sound right, in all his years of playing, was when courtside announcers, in describing a play, would say over and over again, “Stockton and Malone!” “Stockton to Malone!”... I miss hearing that.

To say that Stockton never won an NBA championship should not mean that his career lacked the greatness it deserves. HE WAS AS GREAT AS ALL THOSE WHO HAD WON RINGS. He had the awards and statistics to back him up. He was a legend. And I can never thank him enough for giving himself to the game as he had. I shed tears when Malone, obviously upset about John’s retirement announcement, said immediately after "there will never be anyone like him. I guarantee you that."


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In another beautiful basketball story: Today, NBA Commissioner David Stern announced that they will be giving the Finals MVP trophy a name, similar to the Lombardi and the Heismann. They're naming it after that venerable Celtic great, Bill Russell.

At the press conference, Bill was overcome and almost was at a loss for words. He had just lost his wife, to whom Stern had entrusted the news to and asked her to keep it secret from Bill. She must have been extremely proud - to have died knowing some beautiful news about her husband. And Bill... said the most beautiful thing at that press conference. He thanked his teammates. He emphasized that basketball was a team sport, and thanked his teammates.

That honor could never have happened to a better man and player. Congratulations to Bill Russell. All Celtics fans are immensely proud of you.