# \[PtR\] 我们从马刺输给开拓者的比赛中学到了什么

**URL:** https://chinaspurs.com/t/topic/42215
**Category:** 环球刺讯
**Tags:** 2024-25赛季, 蒂姆-邓肯
**Created:** [2025 年4 月 7 日 18:20 UTC](https://chinaspurs.com/t/topic/42215 "2025-04-07T18:20:04Z")
**Posts on this page:** 1
**Page:** 1

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### 作者： ![PtR](https://chinaspurs.com/user_avatar/chinaspurs.com/ptr/32/98_2.png) [@PtR](https://chinaspurs.com/u/PtR)
#### 发布日期： [2025 年4 月 7 日 18:20 UTC](https://chinaspurs.com/t/topic/42215/1 "2025-04-07T18:20:04Z")

</div>

By Charlie Thaddeus | Pounding The Rock (PtR), 2025-04-08 01:45:00

_由生成式 AI 翻译，译文内容可能不准确或不完整，以原文为准。_

![圣安东尼奥马刺队对阵波特兰开拓者队](https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/b4JVnhVctSExc0qWZ1QoJ_3RvhY=/0x0:6000x4000/1310x873/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/74009393/2208902625.0.jpg)

_重建是一项肮脏的生意，但总得有人去做_

### 夺旗游戏

#### _作者：查理_

* * *

内景. 黑暗房间 – 夜晚

一个简单的灯泡在角落里发出微弱的光。

房间中央摆着一张纸牌桌。两把椅子。

一个年轻人（ 蒂尔先生 ）坐在其中一把椅子上，等待着。他的脸隐藏在阴影中——难以辨认。

接近30岁。一件完美褶皱的纽扣衬衫外面套着一件定制外套。精干，充满活力。一个眼神疲惫的信徒。

突然，门开了。第二个人（ 平克先生 ），年纪稍长，走了进来，关上了身后的门。

年过50。穿着剪裁得体的西装。领带松开。黑白相间的胡茬，总是眯着眼睛。举止像一个知道太多，睡得太少的人。

两人互相凝视着，观察着对方。

最后，蒂尔先生开口了：

蒂尔先生

完成了吗？

平克先生

完成了。附加赛已经不再是一种选择。

这将是连续第六个赛季无缘季后赛。

一项球队历史纪录。

蒂尔先生

我担心这不是我们想要创造的纪录。

平克先生

不。不是的。

但却是必要的。

蒂尔先生

必须如此。

平克先生

当你身处困境时，唯一的出路就是穿过去。

\*平克先生 \* _在桌旁坐下。他从包里拿出一瓶不起眼的棕色烈酒。猛喝了一口。_

蒂尔先生

我只是以为这次会不一样。

我以为那个法国小子会，你知道的，改变一切。

实现飞跃。建立新世界秩序。所有这些。

我以为我们已经准备好了。

平克先生

你当然这么认为。

你还年轻。

你想立刻得到一切，越快越好。

没有耐心。没有自律。现在，现在，现在。

我总是听到你们这些年轻人这么说。

蒂尔先生

这不公平。一点也不公平！

我们并不是想要现在得到一切！

我们只是想要一点点。多一点点。

没有什么疯狂的东西——只是想多一些动静，就这样。

平克先生

呸。动静。

你不是想要动静。你想要_荣耀_，不管那意味着什么。

你想要一些可以谈论的东西。可以沾沾自喜的东西。可以在网上与人争论的东西。

你不在乎它是_如何_发生的，你只是想让它_发生_。

蒂尔先生

_(他的声音逐渐提高)_

你很苦涩。你又老又苦涩又迷茫。

你和我一样不喜欢这样。

所有这些偷偷摸摸的在黑暗中活动，提交伤病报告，

输给开拓者，为了更好的乐透签位而算计——诸如此类的事情。

你讨厌它。你讨厌我们已经变成的样子，但你竟然有胆量

来这里教训我？关于我的耐心？关于我的优先事项？

我从小就接受冠军篮球的熏陶。_马刺之道_。

邓肯、帕克、吉诺比利。那是我的球队。那是我的一切——

我所要求的只是看到球场上有一支我能认出来的球队！

平克先生

一支你能够认出来的球队？一支你能够认出来的球队？？

你以为你的那支珍贵的球队是打哪来的？

你以为蒂姆·邓肯(Tim Duncan)是从空气中变出来的？

你以为篮球仙女拿着一根魔法棒降临

并用世界上最完美的小篮球队祝福了你那特别的脑袋？

长大点吧！

我在那儿。我在战壕里，在96年的时候调整大卫·罗宾逊(David Robinson)的背伤。

当他的骄傲试图让他重返赛场时，我也在那里，

我们不得不策划一次足部骨折，以让他彻底远离赛场。

\*蒂尔先生 \* _沮丧地站起身，朝灯走去。他怒火中烧——他知道平克先生是对的，但他讨厌这样。_

\*平克先生 \* _继续闷闷不乐地喝酒。_

蒂尔先生

_(轻声地)_

只是…我以为我们已经结束这一切了。

我们卖掉了我们喜欢的球员。我们有系统地拆除了所有东西，直到夷为平地——

而且它奏效了。它该死的奏效了。

我们得到了最终的奖品。我们所能得到的最好的奖品。

平克先生

没错。

蒂尔先生

我们本该准备就绪！

为什么我们还在做这些？为什么我们还在追逐一些虚无缥缈的梦想？

这感觉很贪婪。这感觉不对劲。这感觉…绝望。

平克先生

因为我们没有准备好。

\*蒂尔先生 \* _慢慢地重新坐回座位。_

\*平克先生 \* _继续说道。_

平克先生

我们没有准备好。维克多（文班亚马(Victor Wembanyama)）还不够。斯蒂芬·卡斯尔(Stephon Castle)还不够。

他们永远都不够。在这个联盟里不行。现在更不行。

你不能只是得到一个球员，然后围绕他选一些好秀。再引进一两个老将。

这不是它的运作方式。

你需要一个球员，然后你需要下一个。再下一个。

你必须不断尝试。

你不能坐在那里，希望有人能在未来找到一个跳投，

或者你会在第二轮偶然发现下一个东欧超级巨星。

这支球队。这些人。

他们无法摆脱困境，靠自己建立起来。

蒂尔先生

雷霆队做到了！他们从零开始建立起来的！

平克先生

_(突然站起来，打翻了他的饮料，大喊)_

雷霆队从一个失败的州立球队那里偷走了一个划时代的超级巨星，

这个球队太渴望一丝成功了，

以至于他们看不到眼前六英寸的地方。

_房间安静了下来。_

_两人互相凝视着。_

_只有烈酒缓缓从瓶子里流出的微弱声音。_

_他们坐回桌旁，坐直身体。_

平克先生

我不想听关于雷霆队的事情。

普雷斯蒂做了他该做的事情——顺便说一句，这是我们教他的。

他囤积选秀权，他欺骗了快船队，让他们送给他一个球星，然后他选了一个高个子。

他让全世界都相信这都是某种总体计划的一部分——

但我告诉你那是什么。

那是运气，伪装成分析。那是良好的公关。

当然，他们做得很好。他们做得“对”。

但不要坐在这里，装作他们破解了某种密码。

你知道他们做了什么吗？

他们等待着。

他们很无聊。

联盟允许他们无聊，因为没有人关心在俄克拉荷马城发生了什么。

蒂尔先生

但即使这样，它也可能无法成功。经过这一切之后。

所有的痛苦。所有的伤病。所有无聊的夜晚和糟糕的失利。

我们正在把这个赛季扔进下水道…为了什么？

平克先生

为了一个机会。

孩子，一切都只是为了一个机会。

一个它可能会成功的机会。

一个重新获得你一直在追逐的某种魔力的机会。

这就是方法。

这是唯一的方法。

_传来一阵急促的敲门声。_

_三下急促的敲击。然后是沉默。_

\*蒂尔先生 \* _和_ \*平克先生 \* _互相看了一眼，立刻警觉起来。_

_门吱呀一声打开了。_

_第三个人（ 橙色先生 ）走了进来。冷静。沉着。好像他一直在倾听。_

_他拿着一个笔记本和一个巨大的文件夹，里面几乎堆满了用工整的笔迹写下的笔记。他关上了身后的门。一言不发。_

橙色先生

_(冷静地，带着一丝微笑)_

你们这些家伙还在哭吗，或者我们可以开始工作了吗？

淡出。

> **点击查看原文：What We Learned from the Spurs loss to the Blazers**
>
> # What We Learned from the Spurs loss to the Blazers
> 
> ![San Antonio Spurs v Portland Trail Blazers](https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/b4JVnhVctSExc0qWZ1QoJ_3RvhY=/0x0:6000x4000/1310x873/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/74009393/2208902625.0.jpg)
> 
> _Rebuilding’s a dirty business, but someone’s gotta do it_
> 
> ### **CAPTURE THE FLAG**
> 
> #### _Written by Charlie_
> 
> * * *
> 
> **INT. DARK ROOM – NIGHT**
> 
> A single, simple lamp glows in the corner.
> 
> A card table sits in the center. Two chairs.
> 
> A YOUNG MAN ( **MR. TEAL** ) sits in one of them, waiting. His face is hidden in shadow—imperceptible.
> 
> Late 20s. A perfectly rumpled button-down under a tailored jacket. Lean, wired energy. A believer with tired eyes.
> 
> Suddenly, the door opens. A SECOND MAN ( **MR. PINK** ), older, enters and closes it behind him.
> 
> Early 50s. Sharp suit. Loosened tie. Salt-and-pepper stubble and a permanent squint. Carries himself like a man who knows too much and sleeps too little.
> 
> The two stare at each other for a moment, taking it all in.
> 
> Finally, Mr. Teal speaks:
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> Is it done?
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> It’s done. The play-in is no longer an option.
> 
> That’ll be six straight seasons without a playoff appearance.
> 
> A franchise record.
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> Not the kind of records we want to be in the business of setting, I’m afraid.
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> No. No it’s not.
> 
> Necessary though.
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> It must be.
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> When you’re in a hole, the only way out is through.
> 
> _ **Mr. Pink** _ _sits down at the table. He pulls a nondescript bottle of brown liquor out of his bag. Takes a long pull._
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> I just thought this was going to be the one though.
> 
> I thought the French kid was going to, you know, change everything.
> 
> Make a leap. New World Order. All of that.
> 
> I thought we were ready for it.
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> Of course you did.
> 
> You’re young.
> 
> You want it all right now, as soon as possible.
> 
> No patience. No discipline. Now, now, now.
> 
> That’s all I ever hear from you kids.
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> That’s not fair. Not fair at all!
> 
> We don’t want everything right now!
> 
> We just want a little bit. A little bit more.
> 
> Nothing crazy or anything—just a little action, that’s it.
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> Bah. Action.
> 
> You don’t want action. You want _glory_, whatever that means.
> 
> You want something to talk about. To gloat about. To argue with people on the internet about.
> 
> You don’t care _how_ it happens, you just want it to _happen_.
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> _(his voice steadily rising)_
> 
> You’re bitter. You’re old and bitter and lost.
> 
> You don’t like this any more than I do.
> 
> All the sneaking around in the dark, filing injury reports,
> 
> losing to the Blazers, angling for lottery odds—things of that nature.
> 
> You hate it. You hate what we’ve become, and yet you have the gall
> 
> to come in here and lecture me? About my patience? About my priorities?
> 
> I was raised on championship basketball. _The Spurs Way._
> 
> Duncan, Parker, Ginobili. That’s my team. That’s what I’m all about—
> 
> and all I’m asking for is to look out on the court and see a team that I recognize!
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> A team you recognize? A TEAM YOU RECOGNIZE??
> 
> How do you think you got that precious team in the first place?
> 
> You think Tim Duncan materialized out of thin air?
> 
> You think a basketball fairy came down with a magic wand
> 
> and blessed your special head with the world’s most perfect little basketball team?
> 
> Grow up!
> 
> I was there. I was in the trenches, tweaking Robinson’s back in ‘96.
> 
> I was there when his pride tried to push him back in the mix,
> 
> and we had to orchestrate a foot fracture to keep him sidelined for good.
> 
> _ **Mr. Teal** _ _rises in frustration and paces toward the lamp. He seethes—he knows Mr. Pink is right, but he hates it._
> 
> _ **Mr. Pink** _ _continues to sullenly drink._
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> _(quietly)_
> 
> It’s just… I thought we were done with all this.
> 
> We sold guys we liked. We systematically dismantled everything down to the ground—
> 
> and it worked. It freakin’ worked.
> 
> We got the ultimate prize. The best one we could possibly get.
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> That’s right.
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> We should be set!
> 
> Why are we still doing this? Why are we still chasing some pipe dream?
> 
> It feels greedy. It feels wrong. It feels… desperate.
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> Because we weren’t ready.
> 
> _ **Mr. Teal** _ _slowly lowers himself back into his seat._
> 
> _ **Mr. Pink** _ _continues._
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> We weren’t ready. Victor isn’t enough. Castle isn’t enough.
> 
> They were never going to be enough. Not in this league. Not anymore.
> 
> You can’t just get a guy and draft well around him. Bring in a veteran or two.
> 
> That’s not how it works.
> 
> You need a guy, and then you need the next guy. And the next.
> 
> You have to keep taking shots.
> 
> You can’t sit around hoping that someone might find a jump shot down the road,
> 
> or that you’re going to stumble into the next Eastern European superstar in the second round.
> 
> This team. These guys.
> 
> They weren’t going to build themselves out of this mess.
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> The Thunder did! They built it from the ground up!
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> _(suddenly standing, spilling his drink, yelling)_
> 
> THE THUNDER STOLE A GENERATIONAL SUPERSTAR FROM A FAILED STATE FRANCHISE
> 
> SO DESPERATE FOR THE SLIGHTEST WHIFF OF SUCCESS
> 
> THEY COULDN’T SEE SIX INCHES IN FRONT OF THEIR FACE.
> 
> _The room goes quiet._
> 
> _Both men stare at each other._
> 
> _The faint sound of liquor slowly draining out of the bottle is the only noise._
> 
> _They sit back down at the table, straightening up._
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> I don’t want to hear about the Thunder.
> 
> Presti did what he does—what we taught him to do, by the way.
> 
> He hoarded picks, he tricked the Clippers into gifting him a star, and he drafted a tall kid.
> 
> He has the world convinced it was all part of some master plan—
> 
> but I’ll tell you what it was.
> 
> It was luck, dressed up as analytics. It was good PR.
> 
> Sure, they did good. They did it “right.”
> 
> But don’t sit here and act like they cracked some code.
> 
> You know what they did?
> 
> They waited.
> 
> They were boring.
> 
> And the league let them be boring because no one cared what was going on in Oklahoma City.
> 
> **MR. TEAL**
> 
> It might not even work though. After all this.
> 
> All the pain. All the injuries. All the boring nights and terrible losses.
> 
> We’re throwing this season down the drain… and for what?
> 
> **MR. PINK**
> 
> For a chance.
> 
> That’s all it’s ever for, kid.
> 
> A chance that it might work out.
> 
> A chance to recapture some of that magic you’ve been chasing.
> 
> This is the way.
> 
> It’s the only way.
> 
> _A sharp knock at the door._
> 
> _Three quick raps. Then silence._
> 
> _ **Mr. Teal** _ _and_ _ **Mr. Pink** _ _glance at each other, instantly alert._
> 
> _The door creaks open._
> 
> _A THIRD MAN ( **MR. ORANGE** ) steps inside. Calm. Collected. Like he’s been listening the whole time._
> 
> _He carries a notebook and a large satchel of folders nearly overflowing with paperwork filled with notes in a tight handwriting. He closes the door behind him. Doesn’t say a word._
> 
> **MR. ORANGE**
> 
> _(calmly, with a small grin)_
> 
> You boys still crying, or can we get to work?
> 
> **FADE OUT.**

By Charlie Thaddeus, via [Pounding The Rock](https://www.poundingtherock.com/2025/4/7/24403086/what-we-learned-from-the-spurs-loss-to-the-blazers)