Issue No. 2:
1993 Western Conference Finals | Game 5
From the Rafters is a series of essays revisiting classic NBA basketball games through the lens of one modern, cooped up fan (who thought this seemed like a good idea at the time). If you enjoy reading it, please forward it to the basketball fans in your life. If you’ve been sent this newsletter from a friend you can subscribe below. Thanks for reading. I hope it helps pass some time.
Last week as From the Rafters went to press, rumors claimed that the NBA was allowing teams to re-open practice facilities in states where stay-at-home orders have been eased, like Georgia. The league pushed back on that specific story citing their concern for the safety of their players and staff, but it’s starting to look like the ice is thawing after all.
So maybe it’s not impossible for playoff basketball to start soon—perhaps in a single, quarantined location like Las Vegas. But no matter what the solution turns out to be, it certainly won’t resemble the playoff experience we’ve come to expect from the NBA. June likely won’t crown a league champion this year or next.
This week’s issue won’t resemble the last either. While we started with a classic winner-take-all Game 7, let’s find where brilliance can shine without all of the built-in drama of a championship final. Game 5 of the 1993 Western Conference Finals is not a playoff series clinching game. Neither of the teams involved will take home the Larry O’Brien trophy. One of these storied franchises doesn’t even play in the same city anymore. It’s just competitive basketball at it best, for its own sake.
Charles Barkley’s Triple-Double Game
Episode 43 of Hardwood Classics takes place in a city that was initially considered “too hot, too small, and too far away” for professional basketball. But in 1992, the Phoenix Suns traded Jeff Hornacek, a busted Game Genie, and a Slammer Whammer blister pack, to Philadelphia for the disgruntled Charles Barkley. That trade would ignite a franchise-defining four-year run.
Paired with their elite, fifth-year point guard, Kevin Johnson, the proto-3-and-D wing, Dan Marjele, and veteran champ Danny Ainge, Barkley led the Suns to a league-best 62 wins in the ‘92-’93 season. Somehow, despite not leading the league in any statistical category, “Sir Charles” even snatched the NBA’s MVP Award from its two-time incumbent, Michael Jordan. But that superstar collision is still three games away from this one (For more on that series see: Episode 6 of The Last Dance).
Here, it’s Game 5 of the ‘93 Western Conference Finals and Barkley’s Suns are up against the Seattle SuperSonics, touting first time All-Star Shawn Kemp and a coltish Gary Payton. America West Arena is awash in the bright, searing day-glo of the era—like a game of NBA JAM come to life, with the dunking Gorilla mascot and all. From the very tip, I’m wondering: should I buy a Seattle SuperSonics throwback jersey? Am I the victim of trend-marketing recycled ‘90s fashion?
Regardless, as I listen to NBC’s Dick Enberg and Magic Johnson recap the series so far—tied at two wins apiece—a familiar resentment takes hold. My irrational, tribal sports id is triggered by a young Barkley and company in their home whites—the ones with the orange starburst exploding across the chest.
This sensory experience has excavated one of the foundational moments of my NBA fandom. I’m eight-years-old again on Cleveland Avenue. I don’t know where Phoenix is and certainly couldn’t place Arizona on a map. I don’t know anyone who lives there, or has ever visited there, yet I am viscerally opposed to the existence of their basketball team. Later in this game I will connect the dots, but for now let’s leave this in the past where it belongs.
With twenty-seven years of hindsight, these Suns are an exciting team to watch, and the Sonics play the perfect defensive foil. Charles Barkley gracefully bounds up and down the court. Watching him run the floor and finish on the fast break, I realize I’ve been lulled into mistaking the persona of “Chuck,” Inside the NBA’s lovable curmudgeon, for Charles Barkley, 2006 inductee into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame. I will not conflate them again.
The Suns’ offense moves effortlessly through Barkley, unlike the Sonics’ who struggle as soon as Shawn Kemp commits his second foul in the opening two minutes. In the low post, Barkley draws the double-team, and easily dishes inside to Suns’ center Oliver Miller. When that pass isn’t open, he kicks the ball out to Marjele who will finish this game by setting a new NBA playoff record. When the Sonics’ double-team lays off Barkley, he steps back and finds a rhythm with the 12-foot baseline jumper—a rare but delightful sight for these modern eyes.
The first quarter ends knotted at 28. The Sonics sputter to start the second as Phoenix’s defense locks in, forcing up bad shots. At one point, an “illegal defense” foul is called. Puzzled, I fall down a rabbit hole trying to understand the intricacies of the pre-2001 NBA defense, which seems to emphasize a reliance on elite man-to-man defenders. I haven’t touched much on coaching yet in this series—for the record the Sonics are run by a young Karl George, and the Suns by rookie head coach Paul Westphal—but I can see why successful coaches of this era would have been motivators like Pat Riley, or mentors like Phil Jackson, and not necessarily the tactical wizards that came after, like Mike D’Antoni and Tom Thibadeau.
With a few minutes to play in the half, Seattle cuts into the lead. Kemp finishes a thunderous alley-oop, but just as quick the ball is in Barkley’s hand with his back to the opposing basket, delivering a no look, over-the-shoulder assist.
I’d like to pause here at the half to briefly remember Shawn Kemp. For a guy that spent 14 seasons in the NBA, his legacy is an enigma to me. How can the six-time All-Star, whose poster hung in my best friend’s bedroom, finish a career on par with Cliff Hagan and Anthony Mason?
For every Shawn Kemp though, there are plenty of faces in this game who will continue to leave an impression long after their playing days: Nate McMillan, who’s spent 16 seasons as an NBA head coach; Danny Ainge, notorious hoarder of Celtics’ draft picks; even Kevin Johnson, who left behind a questionable legacy as the Mayor of Sacramento. Add in Chuck, and it’s a pretty odd “Who’s Who” alumni game we’ve got here.
In the second half, once Kemp manages to stay away from further foul trouble, he impresses. Abusing the rim, blocking shots, even hitting the open jumper, it’s clear that he’s the best player on the team and his 33 points (24 in the second half) are vital to keeping the Sonics close. Gary Payton also has his best game of the series, but Ricky Pierce (bewildering me with his two-handed free throw dribble) puts in the Sonics’ next most remarkable performance.
Barkley takes over in the fourth quarter, dominating almost every possession and putting the finishing touches on an impressive triple-double—43, 15, and 10. Two minutes from the final whistle, a quick run nearly wraps things up for Phoenix, but Seattle digs in. Kemp forces the Suns’ Mark West to foul out, and with 28 seconds to go Seattle pulls the game within one.
And that’s when the memories come flooding back. Dan Marjele has been on fire, and he effortlessly knocks down his record-setting 8th three pointer of the game, icing the lead. I really hated Dan Marjele, and watching him at eight years old, his shot felt as sure as a Steph Curry 35-footer today. This game, paired with the reminder that he guarded Michael Jordan in the Finals, and I remember why watching this Suns team inspired a Pavlovian response.
The arena is electric when Marjele sets the record. I looked it up after the fact, and it’s so quaint and fragile in hindsight. Players have tied Marjele’s record 21 times, and surpassed it 10 times. Steph Curry and Klay Thompson account for 7 of those instances alone.
History is long and nothing lasts forever. This game has reminded me that the window to win a championship is very small, and just five franchises own 70% of the league championship banners. I’m sure no one knows that better than Charles Barkley.
Instant Replay:
Watch the game with Amazon Prime here.
Basketball Reference Box Score.
Out of Bounds:
This is a phenomenal game of mustaches. There are so many.
The Suns’ 62 wins set a record for the rookie head coach Paul Westphal. Yes, it’s another record later broken by a Golden State Warrior—Steve Kerr in 2015.
Start your “Illegal Defense” rabbit hole here.
Update to Issue #1: The Knicks’ 1970 Championship Game 7 was blacked out for New York City viewers and only available live on the radio—Marv Albert called it.
Have you seen Drake’s house? There’s a fancy NBA regulation court.
Flagrant Fouls:
Dick Enberg to Magic:
“Is it true that Perkins is one of the sleepiest guys in the NBA?”