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The Ballad of Tim Duncan

The most overlooked superstar in NBA history

STORY WITH Clayton Crowley, ILLUSTRATIONS WITH Jonathan Bartlett

Technical. Stoic. Fundamental. Boring. Who else in the NBA pantheon could these words describe other than Tim Duncan? In a league celebrated for its creativity, and marketed on the intense, bombastic attitudes of its greatest figures, Duncan remains an exception. He is the greatest power forward ever and belongs in the inner circle as one of the very best players to ever do it. He is also one of the most reserved superstars in the history of North American sports. He did not shout. He did not snarl. He did not wave his arms to excite a crowd. He was boring—even his uniform was black and white! Yet nearly all of his teammates rave about his sense of humor, regale listeners with stories about his eccentric hobbies, and swear by his peerless leadership skills… Are we still talking about the same guy?

The reality is that Tim Duncan was not a robot—he just never cared enough to let the basketball-watching world get a real glimpse at him. He saved that privilege for the people around him in San Antonio, a place where he established a culture that remains the benchmark in professional basketball, and captained a dynasty whose longevity has no equal in the modern NBA.

Pop Culture
Duncan played every second of his 19-year NBA career with the San Antonio Spurs. For those 19 years, the Spurs never once missed the playoffs, never had less than a 61% win rate, and had a winning record against every other  NBA team. They captured five NBA championships in six trips to the NBA Finals. Not bad, right? Beyond just the wins and losses though, Duncan forged a culture within the Spurs that remains the envy of teams the world over.

“Yes—the best basketball ever played was anchored by a guy with a Merlin tattoo and a WoW account. ”


It began and ended with Duncan’s preferred leadership style: by example. Team sports are heliocentric: they revolve around their stars. Accordingly, those stars have their whims catered to and receive deference from across the organization. The same cannot be said of Duncan. He was coached harder than any other superstar in NBA history. He got called out in film sessions, dressed down during practices, and chewed out for his mistakes. The result? An atmosphere of exceptional accountability and constructive honesty. If Tim Duncan was going to sit there and take head coach Gregg Popovich’s lashings—and take them to heart—then nobody had room to talk.
That decision to take criticism and be coached was informed by Duncan’s unwavering trust in Popovich. The two found kindred spirits in each other and have been described as everything from soulmates to an old married couple. They strived for a selfless, committed, egoless team concept where mistakes were called out, where support was given, and faith instilled.

That approach extended beyond the court, too. The Spurs’ front office was made up of smart, hardworking people who did their job without worrying that their star would grow impatient and go over their heads. Manu Ginóbili and Tony Parker were long shots turned Hall of Famers in no small part because the front office wasn’t afraid to take a chance on them, and because Pop was allowed to push his team. It was also made possible because Tim Duncan did not seek special treatment.  

The Big Fundamental
Let’s be honest. It’s not all that sexy to talk about Tim Duncan’s game. He was nicknamed “The Big Fundamental” for a reason. He certainly wasn’t flashy, nor was he particularly exciting on a night in, night out basis. He merely maintained an utter selflessness, an unflappable mental edge, and an exceptionally well-rounded skill set.

Offensively, his pick-and-roll proficiency will be used to teach the concept for decades to come, combined with a jumper that extended comfortably to the elbows. Of course, he also held total control of the low post with his imposing physicality, soft touch around the basket, and signature banked hook shot—a shot so prolific in its reliability that there might as well have been a sticker on every NBA backboard reading: “Property of Timothy Theodore Duncan.” His place on history’s leaderboards will forever be diminished because of his willingness to cede the spotlight to his teammates, but make no mistake—Duncan was a problem on the court.

On the other side of the ball, despite never winning a Defensive Player of the Year award, Duncan has a case as the best defender ever. In spite of his quiet, reserved demeanor, testimonies abound from those who were close enough to hear the on-court action of how incredibly vocal Duncan was on defense. He was the central processing unit of a defensive supercomputer. Duncan paid no mind to statistics or metrics. Instead, he was named to the most All-Defensive teams ever (15), and simply maintains the most sterling résumé of advanced defensive metrics of any player in history: 13th all-time in defensive box plus/minus, 3rd all-time in defensive rating, and 2nd all-time in defensive win shares. Put it all together and we are left with perhaps the most complete big man in more than 75 years of NBA basketball.

The GOAT Wears JORTS
The kind of historic company that Duncan keeps includes LeBron, Jordan, Bird, and Kobe. As a person, he seems to have more in common with the rest of us in the stands. Duncan started his career by defying convention for a star NBA prospect. Instead of going straight from high school to the NBA, Duncan fulfilled a promise to his late mother and graduated from Wake Forest in four years. Unlike many of his contemporaries however, upon his arrival in the pros, Duncan never developed into a fashion icon. Although he played against Michael Jordan and Devin Booker, Duncan never developed a sense of style. He rejected the norm and wore an oversized T-shirt, jorts, and sandals to accept his first MVP award.

“Duncan is an anomaly... he seems to be one of the most relatable superstars ever.”

As always, Timmy is an outlier far beyond the realm of what we call a “star.”  All-time greats are supposed to be selfish. They’re supposed to be alpha dogs and inspire fear in the hearts of opponents and allies alike. With Duncan, there seemed to be an unfeigned care that was exuded, an authentic satisfaction in seeing those around him succeed. There are few pictures of Duncan with his teammates that do not feature one of his enormous arms draped around them. The legends of the game are supposed to leverage their incredible wealth and fame into business opportunities and notoriety. Jordan became a brand. LeBron James had an app. Tim Duncan once appeared in a pretty funny Adidas commercial.

And that peculiarity goes beyond being a quiet guy. By most accounts, Duncan is a nerd! He has a tattoo of a wizard, was in a World of Warcraft guild, and likes Renaissance fairs! Wilt Chamberlain slept with thousands of women... can we relate to him over a guy who knows the pain of a rolling a natural 1 on a charisma check?

Those core values; things like humility, a desire for team cohesion, and an aversion to excessive attention—never changed in Duncan. Neither did his ability to answer the call when it mattered. At nearly any age, with any play style, following any league trend, Tim Duncan got the job done. As the only all-star or All-NBA selection on his team, Duncan led the 2002–03 Spurs to the title and registered the most win shares by any player in a single postseason ever. Over a decade later, he was still capable of putting up 27 and 11 when his team needed it most. The guy’s championship window lasted for nearly 20 years, all while rocking sandals and jorts.

The Beautiful Game
Tim Duncan is an anomaly; by most indications, he seems to be one of the most relatable superstars ever. He couldn’t stand big egos, took his job seriously, and then went about his life. He also happened to be the superstar least interested in being famous. Why would he share a glimpse behind the curtain with the unknowable masses? It seems as though he also just happened to be a world-class athlete and a once-in-a-lifetime winner.

“In the 19 years that Duncan played for the Spurs, the team won at a rate of 71.9%.”

If anything epitomizes everything great that Tim Duncan represented, it is the 2013–14 championship Spurs team. Those Spurs picked themselves up after a historically devastating loss to the Miami Heat in the 2013 Finals. They rallied around each other and fought their way back to redemption against Miami in the 2014 Finals. That revenge over the Heat is remembered as “The Beautiful Game.” San Antonio fielded a roster from all corners of the globe who all bought in to something bigger than themselves, achieving a synergy that few teams in any sport can relate to. They passed beautifully, shot the lights out, and smothered the Heat defensively. They played, in their four wins in that Finals series, incredible, aesthetic, perfect basketball. A heap of records exists to support that claim, including the largest margin of victory in NBA Finals history. At the center of it all was Tim Duncan. Yes—the best basketball ever played was anchored by a guy with a Merlin tattoo and a WoW account.

In the 19 years that Duncan played for the Spurs, the team won at a rate of 71.9%. It is the best mark across a 19-year period of any professional team in the history of North American sports. That achievement is a testament to the fact that success in anything, even something as competitive as professional basketball, does not require callousness. There are some who preach that the upper echelon of achievement is reserved solely for those willing to adopt a cutthroat mentality. The story of Tim Duncan is clear and undeniable evidence to the contrary. His is a stark reminder that it is enough to be oneself. It is enough to care, to be authentic, to work hard, and to treat the people around you well. The same traits that most people already possess are the same traits that Duncan used to lead the most prolific dynasty since color television. So, in a way, Tim Duncan is really no exception at all. 
Mr. Fundamentals

In the 1998–99 season Duncan became the second youngest Finals MVP ever. In 2012–13, he was the oldest player ever named as a first-team All-NBA selection.

DEAR MAMA

TD graduated with a degree in psychology, co-writing a paper in a psychology journal titled “Blowhards, Snobs and Narcissists: Interpersonal Reactions to Excessive Egotism.” Go figure!

(MIS)FORTUNE

Young TD was primed to be an Olympic swimmer. In 1989 Hurricane Hugo destroyed the only Olympic-sized pool on his home island of St. Croix. This prompted Duncan to trade in his Speedo for the game of basketball.

The Greatest PF?

In a golden era of the power forward position Duncan held a winning record against Webber, Nowitzki, and Garnett. TD vs Garnett gave us a rare glimpse of contempt in the stoic Duncan. Garnett was TD’s antithesis and the two shared fierce battles.

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