A script of his own
Steve Nash messes with the pro athlete stereotype: he shoots first, asks questions later
Photo by Dan Sellers
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By ROB KLOVANCE -- SportsXtra
Music critics fell all over themselves praising it, but many Radiohead fans felt betrayed.
Just when the British band had sung its way to the top of the alt-rock heap, it managed to annoy millions with the release of "Kid A," an existential stew of computerized voice, minimalist piano and cacophonic horns. You couldn't even hear a guitar until track four.
Steve Nash loved it.
"I think they're brilliant," Nash, point guard for the Dallas Mavericks says, during a tumultuous February for both his team and Planet Earth.
"I know it's been well-documented, but for them to change their formula, try new things - and I think make beautiful music - is incredible."
Nash hesitates, a little stutter-step in his pop-literate dribble, then concludes: "To just continue to make the same chord progressions and capitalize on their talent and take the easy road, I think, would have made a lot of people happy - but it wouldn't have made them happy."
It would have made a lot of people happy, too, if Nash had stuck to his job of running the NBA's most potent offence rather than spouting off about peace during the pre-game warm-up to the U.S.-led war on Iraq. Most sports fans prefer their heroes to stick to the game, extol the virtues of Nike and Spalding, and otherwise shut the hell up. But at 29 and at the height of his powers (a recent NBA player ranking pegs Nash at No. 15, sandwiched between a pair of guys named Vince Carter and Michael Jordan), Steve Nash dares to be different. It's not just the unkempt mop on his head. Born in South Africa, raised in B.C., and schooled in California, Nash sees himself as a citizen of the world - with a burgeoning guilt-complex to prove it. He feels shame about driving an SUV and actually believes his celebrity might be put to better use than selling sneakers. That his anti-war stance might have jeopardized his popularity as a heroic figure for a team playing in George Dubya's Texas, or that he may have kissed good-bye to millions of dollars in endorsement opportunities, does not concern him. "It's not going to hurt me because I don't really care if I have any endorsements," he says. "I'm not in this for endorsements."
Nash's position on Iraq has only complicated his image. "I stand on the anti-war side of this, but I'm not here to tell people to jump on my side," Nash says, working hard to clarify his views one day after a Dallas columnist's supportive column on the Canadian's stand elicited a flood of mail - for and against - in the Dallas Morning News. "I want people to educate themselves and choose for themselves."
The letters focused on the columnist's audacity to tout Nash as "a new iconoclast for the new millennium," but several readers took aim at Nash himself: "A Canadian earning a huge paycheck in American dollars while bashing the USA!" reads one. "Just don't feed me the line that he actually cares," reads another. "And please don't mention him in the same breath as Ali."
On the same weekend in which Vince Carter's big gamble was refusing, until the 11th hour, to give up his All-Star game starting spot to MJ, Nash chose to play dove in the face of the hawks of America. He doffed a "No War. Shoot For Peace" T-shirt and challenged America's right to wage war on Saddam Hussein. This was no in-your-face conversion to Islam. Nor was it as profound as Muhammad Ali's draft-dodging zinger: "I ain't got no quarrel with them Viet Cong." It was just the latest controversial move by a guy from Victoria, B.C., who beat long odds just to get to the NBA, and has since refused to follow anyone's script but his own.
Does Nash care? Ask the kids who play for the Steve Nash Youth Basketball League in B.C., the developmental league he saved after the NBA Grizzlies, packing up their misery to Memphis, dropped their $30,000-per-year sponsorship. Ask his Canadian Olympic teammates who had their per diem supplemented - anonymously - with cash from Nash's pockets.
Ask his pal Al Whitley, who has known him since he was eight, and now, as assistant equipment manager for the Mavs, marvels at the two-time all-star's ability to maintain Good Guy status amid a whirlwind of celebrity. In a league where the news clippings of some players read like police blotters, Nash's reads like an application for sainthood.
"He signs every autograph, takes every picture, shakes every hand," says Whitley. "That's the best part about him, that he understands it's part of the job, even if at times it can be a pain in the ass. People freak out when they see him. He's kind of lucky in a way that he's shorter, but once they see the hair... he kind of gets mobbed."
Nash began to taste notoriety for his basketball as early as junior high in his hometown of Victoria. Yet even as recently as two years ago he was able to walk relatively unmolested - virtually indistinguishable from fellow Radiohead fans in a ratty T and jeans - through the crowd at an outdoor concert in Vancouver. Compare that to his experience when he took in a Coldplay show in Dallas earlier this year.
"I'm not bragging about this at all - it's a bit embarrassing," says Nash. "When I walked in, the place went crazy. I looked on stage, and there was no one there. I realized they were yelling at me."
Photo by Dan Sellers
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By the end of February, all that attention was beginning to take its toll on Nash. Post-game ice packs were on the increase while scoring and minutes played were on the decrease. The same guy touted by some at mid-season as a league MVP candidate was clearly not at his best, and the same Mavs team that had won 14 straight to start the season was losing regularly to the other top teams in the wicked West.
The 'Doubt The Mavs' symphony reached its crescendo following a Feb. 27 game in which they lost to the Sacramento Kings in overtime after blowing a seven-point edge with less than two minutes left in regulation time. Nash missed two shots in the final minute. It was the seventh loss in eight games to Sacramento, who had bounced the Mavs from the 2002 playoffs. And fingers began to point at Nash and his battle with Kings point Mike Bibby. "Both make good decisions, and both want the ball at crucial times," wrote Dallas Morning News columnist Gerry Fraley. "The difference is Nash tends to be more frantic with the game on the line, while Bibby stays cold-blooded."
Two weeks later, the Mavs - still first in the West but hungry for a face-saving victory in Sacramento - watched a 10-point first-quarter lead eventually evaporate. With 14 seconds left, Bibby canned a three-point jump shot to put the Kings up by three. Trying to force overtime, with only one possession left, Dallas got the ball in the hands of seven-foot German Dirk Nowitzki, the team's best shooter. But Nowitzki was ambushed by two defenders at the top of the key, and flipped the ball to Nash. One of the NBA's best three-point shooters, Nash missed on the attempt. The ball clanged short with only seconds remaining, and the man guarding Nash, Bobby Jackson, breathed a sigh of relief.
Big mistake.
With a few ticks still on the clock, the Mavs' Michael Finley snagged the rebound and tossed it out to Nash, who had sprinted to the baseline. The 6-foot-3 Nash hit the tying three-pointer with two seconds left, then scored 12 points in overtime - for a total of 27 in the contest - in his team's 129-123 victory.
"People like that he has his flair, and that he doesn't try to follow what everybody else does. Steve's going to go out on a limb, wear the tight clothes, wear the tight shirts, and just have his hair fun-free."
- teammate Nick Van Exel
Nash's flair for the dramatic has served him well, from the off-balance shots that actually fall, to the toque, T-shirt and jeans combo that - matched with the trademark hair - makes him a trendsetter worthy of GQ exposure.
It has also been a bit of a pain, particularly when you toss in his statements on Iraq, and his dangerous liaisons with Liz Hurley and former Spice Girl Geri Halliwell.
"It's all silly," he says of his much-ballyhooed, overblown 2001 Babe Odyssey. "People are people. Boys and girls. The reason it was reported is that it was two people who are known. Had it been two unknowns, it could have been the exact same thing going on - whether it's a conversation, more or less. It's just people."
Add up all the on- and off-court action, and Nash finds himself with as much down time as a pickpocket at Mardi Gras. He wants to seek out new music, but goes to few clubs because celebrity requires the energy to deal constantly with fans. As committed as he is to being part of the Dallas-area Big Brothers/Big Sisters, he sees his little brother Roger so seldom that as of late February he still hadn't dropped off the kid's Christmas gifts. Intent on learning to play the guitar well, he hardly ever finds time to pick it up during the NBA season - preferring to relax with his girlfriend or escape to the darkness of the movie theatre.
"At the end of the day there's not enough time to read, play guitar, talk to the media, stay in touch with my family and friends and be the best basket-ball player I can be," he says. "I can't do it all."
"If we qualify for this Olympics and go, that'll probably be it for me," says Nash, whose team will face the daunting task of trying to secure one of three Americas berths against the U.S. and eight other teams in San Juan. "It's just too much - too much wear and tear."
Superman dressed in a phone booth, but on game nights, Nash has it worse. Arriving from the shower at American Airlines Arena, he parts the media scrum camped outside his stall and, with coffee-breathed reporters inches away, drops the towel from his waist and begins to dress. Fifteen minutes of interrogation later, he emerges, mop head still wet, but looking club cool. He's wearing jeans, a high-collared cream sweater, walnut leather jacket with faux fur collar - and maroon Pumas with a yellow stripe.
"Steve is the man. He has his own style," says his teammate Nick Van Exel, who is still waiting for Nash to wear one of the two linen suits he bought for his fellow guard. "People like that he has his flair, and that he doesn't try to follow what everybody else does. Steve's going to go out on a limb, wear the tight clothes, wear the tight shirts, and just have his hair fun-free."
A $5.85-million-US-per-season NBA star who refuses to spend time and money to tame his hair or to buy the Hummer he deserves, Nash slips off into the Dallas night alongside Alejandra and a few friends. Two days later, the weather warming up, he follows up a game against the Memphis Grizzlies by pulling on a powder blue T-shirt that reads "PEACE" - virtually guaranteeing that he will have none.
STEVE NASH CHRONOLOGY
February, 1974
Born in South Africa, the son of a former professional soccer player.
March, 1992
Named tournament MVP in leading Victoria's St. Michael's to the B.C. 'AAA' High School basketball championship
Summer, 1996
A two-time Western Athletic Conference player of the year with California's Santa Clara University, Nash is drafted 15th overall by the NBA's Phoenix Suns.
November, 1996
Scores 17 points, 12 assists and seven rebounds, in his first career NBA start and his B.C. homecoming, against the Vancouver Grizzlies.
June, 1998
Traded by the Suns to the Dallas Mavericks for four players, including draft picks.
February, 2000
Leads Canada to upset wins over Yugoslavia and Russia - and within a victory of a medal - at the Sydney Olympics.
February, 2001
Averaging 15.3 points and 7.3 assists per game for the Mavericks, Nash becomes the first Canadian named to the NBA's all-star team
February, 2003
Takes a stand on Iraq, wearing 'No War, Shoot For Peace' T-shirt prior to his second NBA All-Star Game appearance
