LOS ANGELES — No NBA star has spent this season in the “put up or shut up” crosshairs more than Chris Paul.
Among fans and media, the overriding narrative has been that of an hourglass quickly losing sand when it comes to accolades butting up against a limited playoff resume. It seemingly no longer matters that Paul is certainly still among the best guards — “point” or otherwise — in the NBA. It no longer matters if the second half of Paul’s 2015 season propelled him into the MVP conversation. It no longer mattered if, a few notable gaffes notwithstanding, Paul had largely performed quite well during the postseason.
In the post-Michael Jordan era, superstar greatness is evaluated first, foremost, and increasingly only through the prism of “rings.” The further you’ve stood from a championship, the less goodwill afforded through numbers, universal respect from peers, and common sense. There’s no rational, logical way to question Paul’s greatness, nor really even a pressing reason to do so.
And for most of CP3’s career, this obvious truth was treated as self-evident while performing at an elite level on both sides of the ball.
This year, however, it was decreed no longer fair to let Chris Paul skate for having never advanced past the second round after years spent crushing Carmelo Anthony and Steve Nash, who’d at least reached the Conference Finals. Not with Paul quarterbacking a team armed with an all-NBA forward (Blake Griffin), an elite defensive anchor (DeAndre Jordan), a perennial Sixth Man of the Year candidate (Jamal Crawford), Doc Rivers’ championship pedigree, continuity, and a new owner not named “Donald” or “Sterling.” The Clippers as a franchise had officially reached the “no more excuses” point, with Paul serving as the poster boy.
Thus, it’s fitting they would draw a brutal first-round matchup against the defending champion San Antonio Spurs. And that Paul would spend the seventh game negotiating an in-game hamstring injury requiring continual treatment and a seriously high threshold for pain. And that despite several possessions spent hobbling around for dear life, he would still manage a 27 point/six assist/one turnover outing, complete with five triples, a monster fourth quarter (nine points) and the game-winning bucket with just one second remaining.
When you’re behind in the “what have you done for me lately?” game, as Paul has been collectively deemed, every bit of heroics that can be added to the dossier matters.
And without question, this was a performance befitting of a superstar at a time when superstars are expected to deliver.
This was Paul’s time, his bell to answer, even if nobody close to him would ever question his ability to come through.
“He’s just a tough kid,” praised Rivers after the game. “That’s it. Tough. He’s just a tough…. he’s a street fighter. I mean, he really is. He’s a street fighter. I love him to death because of his well.”
“I don’t really know what to say, to be honest,” gushed Griffin. “There’s not really a word. There’s not really a good word that comes to mind. It was unbelievable… I mean, the way he played. Not only the way he played, but just like his spirit. His resolve. I mean, you guys saw the shots, but you don’t see the timeouts, in the huddles, things like that. It was huge. I don’t really have a word to describe it, to be honest.”
For his part, Paul appeared physically and emotionally exhausted, and admitted his availability for the second round against Houston remains up in the air. Then again, he wasn’t even sure at one point he could finish this game, and shared the emotions running through his mind while willing himself back onto the court.
“Blake just kept asking me if I was all right,” recalled Paul at the podium. “And I though about our team and all the things we’ve been through, and I know that if It was any other guy on the team in a situation like this, they wouldn’t have laid down, so just tried to find a way.”
The modern world is an impatient one, done no favors by the media.
In particular, the sports media feasts off rushing to the finish line with information still unknown. We jump to conclusions, then jump again and again as needed while reaching the latest, greatest, most definitive declaration. This rush to record history before it happens is no more obvious than with the topic of “legacy.” An athlete’s legacy, logically speaking, can’t be known until several years after a career has concluded, much less while a player is actually still suiting up. But that won’t stop writers and analysts from waxing poetic about where “Superstar X” stands among the pantheon of all-time greats. Them’s the rules, and for better or worse, they ain’t changing anytime soon.
The key is simply to beat the rules, and for now, Chris Paul took a major step towards shaping his narrative.
Andy Kamenetzky is a contributor to SheridanHoops.com. Follow him and his brother, Brian, on Twitter.