The Spurs didn't produce a point until over three-and-a-half minutes had elapsed in Game 5, at which time they were down by 8 points. After another three-and-a-half minutes, the deficit had doubled to 16. Tony Parker was scoreless until 15 seconds left in the third quarter. Danny Green missed all of his attempts. None of that impeded the path of the poised and persistent Spurs - and neither did the Heat, who got rolled like a quesarito, which after countless commercials, we crave as much as the Spurs did a championship*.
Speaking of dining, the Spurs showed revenge is a dish best served piping hot, as San Antonio averaged 52.8% shooting for the series, a Finals record, connecting on no less than 46.2% in a single game. When any Spurs player released the ball, we swear the spinning sphere went from reading "Spalding" across its surface to "Scalding." A pack of pepper pickers don't have this many hot hands.
The trio of Kawhi Leonard, Manu Ginobli and Patty Mills, heretofore known as the "medium three," made sure history didn't repeat (or threepeat) itself. Leonard was the Spurs of the moment, tallying his third consecutive game of 20+ points and his second straight double-double. The imperturbable Leonard was an improbable, yet impressive MVP, but his breakout signals he's ready to take up the mantle and now he has an honor to put up on his mantle. Patty Mills was Aussie-some, nailing five threes to nail the coffin shut. The Heat spent the third period chasing Mills, who racked up 14 of his 17 points. They might as well have been chasing windmills. The man from down under kept the Heat who were down, while the Spurs had things under control. Tony Parker had resumed his Cirque de Soleil act by the fourth quarter. Along with the Australian, it was also the Argentine's time to shine. Ginobli was half-Manu, half-amazing, amassing 19 points, making baskets from angles even a geometer would gawk at. He and his tenacious teammates made redemption appear to be Manufest destiny.
Early indications pointed to a blowout and they were correct, just not for the club that controlled the first eight minutes of the contest. The Spurs station wagon engine took a little time to warm up, but once it did it was humming like a sports car (as San Antonio supporters starting humming a specific Queen song to the deposed King James - or at least they should've). Suddenly, the Ford was overtaking the Ferrari. The Spurs held the Heat to 11 points in the second quarter and after allowing 17 first quarter points to LeBron, limited him to 14 through the remaining three. Wade, Bosh and Allen, were exposed as non-shooting stars, going 11-34 from the field. If James had hung a "Help Wanted" sign on the back of his jersey at halftime, we would've understood. LeBron had said the Heat possessed "championship DNA," but we didn't detect a single strand of it throughout the series, which was bafflingly one basket from being a sweep^. No one needed a microscope to notice the Spurs were superior (not genetically, just generally).
Sunday was Father's Day, but it was also Pop's day. Ditto for Tim Duncan, who bounced back from a devastating defeat even better than a divorce. You have to hand it to the cerebral, consistent Hall of Fame coach and center, who now have a handful of rings apiece. We know the duo aren't demonstrative, but we believe on this occasion, Kawhi-fives are in order.
*it took the Spurs less time to go through the Heat than it will for Taco Bell's fascinating, fabricated foodstuff to go through your bowels; it's best to trust the system to take care of it - the digestive system
^as the jock geneticists say, "you win some, you chromosome."
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