Retiring Robinson stars on, off court
This was the end of November in 1989, the first month of David Robinson's NBA rookie year, when he was asked to describe how setting an NCAA record for blocked shots during his career at the Naval Academy would translate to the NBA.
"It's my job," Robinson said, "to make sure that nobody goes to the basket with impunity."
 | |
| David Robinson's commitment to San Antonio won't end when he retires from the Spurs after this season.(AP) |
Then again, he also has a sense of humor about a life where he believes everybody should be accountable.
"Well, to be really honest about it," Robinson said last week, "I learned the word impunity from a comic book. And one of the characters told the villain, 'You shall not speak that way without impunity,' and I liked that word. So I decided I was going to use it."
Ah, the breath of fresh air that comes with honesty. Nobody is more honorable than the 37-year-old David Robinson, married to Valerie, father of three boys, and a 7-foot-1, 250-pound center who will retire after this season with an NBA championship ring from 1999, 10 All-Star appearances and a record three Olympic medals.
But beginning some time in late spring, once the Spurs are finished with basketball this season, he intends to be the man who will meld the corporate big-wigs of San Antonio with the large impoverished community of needy children, the first step being the $9 million he donated to start the Carver Academy just east of downtown. In its second year of existence, the school is privately funded for pre-kindergarten through third grade, with intentions to expand eventually to eighth grade.
That, perhaps more than anything, is what basketball has brought to him. The money and fame has allowed him to mobilize the community into evoking positive change. The NBA championship ring? Well, it doesn't have quite the same effect. Don't for a moment think his noble tendencies are just for show or that he's self-righteous. This is what David Robinson is all about.
"Once you've got (the championship) -- it's been a lot of fun with a lot of highlights -- but looking back, what really means something is the impact I've been able to have on people's lives day-in and day-out," Robinson said. "What really matters are the relationships I've formed with the city of San Antonio and the people who live here, including my teammates. Who cares about the statistics?"
Of course, they are plentiful as can be for a man who was named first-, second- or third-team nine times in his career with a scoring title, shot-blocking title and a zillion other important statistics. More important, he has had back problems, a fractured bone in his foot and carried himself with a certain kind of dignity through it all that doesn't quite fit with professional athletes. Teammate Steve Kerr, another anomaly to the sport with his approach to life, recalls Robinson from collegiate days when they were playing together on a national team.
Not many other guys could play classical piano or major in mathematics to the point of programming computers in the mid-1980s.
"I was immediately struck by how many other interests he had outside of basketball," Kerr said. "It made him unique compared to all the other players I had ever met. On the court, he had a defensive presence, shooting touch and the ability to run like a deer. When you combine that talent with the kind of guy he is, the type of teammate and friend he became, David was destined for the Hall of Fame from the beginning."
Things haven't always been perfect for the Naval officer, despite the obvious success he has experienced. Before the Spurs won the title and before they were able to draft Tim Duncan, Robinson was often referred to as soft because of the way he played the game and would never win because of it.
Of course, that came after he had already turned the franchise around from a languishing 21-win team in 1988 to a 35-game turnaround the next season, won the Most Valuable Player award in 1995 and was in the top five in numerous categories. The entire concept that someone like Robinson is soft doesn't sit too well with coach Gregg Popovich.
"That's so overplayed," Popovich said. "Not just media or writers, but people in America in general feel like they have to label people. There have to be definitions written on people's backs explaining who they are. So if he didn't go out and stick a forearm in somebody's chest and knock them over like Charles Barkley, then somebody wanted to call him soft. Of if he didn't win a championship quick enough, somebody wanted to blame him for being soft.
"It's got nothing to do with it. It's got to do with who the hell else is on the team, what's going on on your team, who's on the other team, and what the state of the world and the NBA is. All I know is he went out and busted his ass every night to the best of his ability. The soft label to me is comical just because he didn't go out and knock somebody on their ass every night."
Yes, he was and still is more of a finesse player. He is also one of a fading breed of players who care about the team concept, his teammates and doing the right thing to win games. When he first hurt his back in 1997, returned and then fractured a bone in his foot, the Spurs were virtually done for the year. They won just 20 games, but surprisingly won the lottery and it allowed them to draft Duncan, the 7-foot All-American from Wake Forest.
They won 56 games and the duo became just the eighth in history to each average at least 20 points and 10 rebounds in the same season. From the next season on, Duncan became the offensive presence and Robinson deferred to focus more on defense and rebounding. Two years later, the Spurs became the only former ABA team to win an NBA title.
"He's been great to me in every respect because there are so many ways to talk about him as a player and a person," Duncan said. "I'm hoping his legacy with me will be as a pair of dominant players that are two of the best ever. Hopefully, we can get this thing together one more time this year and end it the right way as NBA champions again."
That would be a great thing for not only the Spurs, but as a sendoff for Robinson. The Spurs remain part of the upper crust of the Western Conference, in second place behind the hot Dallas Mavericks in the Midwest Division and battling for home-court advantage in the playoffs. Winning another title isn't foremost on his mind and Popovich knows it. There was no great discussion that went on regarding his retirement; he just came in last May and said this season would be it.
Had he never won an NBA title, it's not as if it would have kept him up at nights either. Nor did the fluke of getting Duncan have a negative impact on his ego. Popovich knows that and considers himself a better person for this relationship that goes back to when Robinson was a cadet in the Naval Academy, through his two years at Kings Bay, Ga., and now the final days of his NBA career.
"His life didn't change one iota from his perspective when Tim arrived," Popovich said. "From everybody else's perspective, they probably think it did. He got a championship, so now he's whole. He'd have been whole without a championship. What the hell's a championship to David Robinson? The journey was more important to him than anything. The fact that he did or didn't win it is not the all-encompassing way to decide who he is based on what the paper said that morning. Regardless of what anybody thinks of him, his criterion of who he is is based on a lot more than basketball."
Nonetheless, Robinson is becoming wistful in each arena he visits, "kind of taste it all one more time," as he explains it, talking to fans, signing autographs, counting the memories. He remains extraordinarily focused on basketball, staying healthy and contemplating his purpose in life. And Kerr says nobody realizes right now how irreplaceable even Robinson's career-low 9.2 points, 8.9 rebounds and 2.0 blocks will be missed next season.
Nevertheless, there is no talking him out of his retirement. This is it. The young children of the Carver Academy is just the start as his life's work that began to take shape as a cadet following high school graduation in Manassas, Va.
"You go to the Naval Academy, you're not thinking about making money," Robinson said. "Man, you're thinking about making a difference . You're going to go out and change the world. That's what I wanted to do and that's what I want to give to these kids. I'm taking them at about 4 years old, sitting them down and explaining it all to them. Life is about service and it's about giving it back. And this gives a lot of kids an opportunity they wouldn't otherwise have and puts them in an atmosphere to learn. They're already excelling and hopefully they'll come back and say, 'We're going to build this community up real strong.'
"That's my philosophy and so far it's been good."
Make that very good.
