10:40 AM CDT on Thursday, June 1, 2006

Kevin Held / Staff Writer

Unless the Detroit Pistons can pull off a tremendous comeback, the likes of which we haven’t seen in three weeks when the Phoenix Suns topped the L.A. Lakers in seven games, then the NBA will soon crown only its eighth franchise since 1980 as champion. Which got me thinking about the prevalence of recurring champions in the other two major sports leagues—baseball and football—and their relation to one another.

See, most people I know herald the NFL as being the paradigm of parity in professional sports and toss Major League Baseball under the bus for seeing the same teams gunning for championships again and again. Yet somehow, the NBA slips by unnoticed for its lack of championship diversity.

Associated Press

This guy was a part of one of the most exciting, dynamic sports dynasties of all-time.

In fact, dynasties are not only more prevalent in the NBA in the last 26 years, but over the entire span of its existence as well.

First, examine the big pictures of each league: in its 40-year history (or rather, Super Bowl history), the NFL has awarded the Lombardi Trophy to 17 different franchises overall; Major League Baseball has seen just 26 franchises claim a World Series title in more than 100 years; but the NBA, in its 59-year existence, has seen just 15 franchises win a championship.

Over the last 26 years, however, 19 different teams have won the “Fall Classic.” However, only seven different teams have won the NBA Title since 1980. Not exactly a good ratio. The NFL, though, compares much more favorably: 13 teams have won the Super Bowl over the same span.

Now, I realize that this year’s NBA Playoffs have been spectacular across the board, but that’s mostly due to the emergence of other teams into the championship mix. Dallas finally toppled San Antonio; the L.A. Clippers finally got into the playoffs; the run ‘n’ gun style of the Phoenix Suns was enough to beat to L.A. Lakers; the Bulls gave the Miami Heat plenty of trouble in the first round; Lebron James and the Cavaliers made a deep run in the postseason.

M. Spencer Green / Associated Press

...This guy? Not so much.

Judging by typical fan reactions to the ‘Big 3s’ postseasons over the last few years, it’s become clear that the American public doesn’t like or want to see dynasties sports, unless there are compelling stories and charismatic superstars involved.

Reason no. 204 why I admire professional athletes

After playing (and contributing) in the Suns’ 106-86 victory over the Dallas Mavericks Tuesday night, Raja Bell has become my new sports hero. Why? Because he gutted out a partial tear in his left calf to play, that’s why. Granted, he’s no Willis Reed, but I’m putting Bell’s name on the marquee for personal reasons: because I got a charley horse yesterday.

I woke up Wednesday morning around 1 a.m. with a strain in my left calf. Normally, I’d just stretch my legs out, hold the stretch in my calves for about ten seconds and then let my legs go limp. It’s worked numerous times before, just not this time. I tried tightening my legs and suddenly felt like I’d been shot in my left calf.

Tim Sharp / Associated Press

The Suns' Raja Bell is on Kevin's shortlist for toughest athlete of the year. Actually...he's the only on the list so far.

I buried my head in my pillow to keep my apartment neighbors from hearing me shout a steady stream of profanities while I struggled in the dark to grab my cell phone off the nightstand. I was ready to call 911 and tell the paramedics my calf spontaneously combusted and that I was dying. Hell, I was ready to call in sick for work today. I could imagine that conversation, trying to explain to my boss that my calf had suddenly exploded, or caught on fire, or had been hacked with a friggin’ meat cleaver, something comparable to my pain.

Of course, the pain in my calf subsided as I was about to dial emergency. My boss and coworkers gave me the ‘charley horse’ diagnosis as I limped gingerly around the office this morning. I spoke to my old man, who remained quite stoic in light of my affliction.

“That’s nothing,” he said casually, “what’ll you pull your groin or have kidney stones.”

In light of my father’s recent revelations, I’ve decided to stop aging once I hit 30.

Here’s my grand point: If an average 25-year-old man is on the verge of tears over a charley horse, and a 29-year-old athlete can get up and run around for 48 minutes with a torn calf, then I need to start building Raja Bell a statue as a testament to his—and countless other athlete’s—resiliency.

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