By Devon Birdsong | Pounding The Rock (PtR), 2025-12-04 20:02:42
2006年，在加拿大魁北克省最北端的一处定居点，身材娇小的莉迪亚·安吉欧 (Lydia Angyiou) 与一头北极熊展开了正面交锋。
当然，这并非她本意。伊武希维克 (Ivujivik) 是一个亚北极社区，距离北极圈仅185英里，离北极点约1000英里。这里的居民一年中总共只有20天看不到冰雪。
可以肯定的是，在这里遇到北极熊的概率比地球上大多数地方都要高。尽管如此，在人口密集区发生此类遭遇仍然极为罕见，这也就是为何当莉迪亚·安吉欧发现它的那一刻，顿感血脉贲张。
当时她正与儿子们散步，突然听到一群正在打街头冰球的孩子们发出的喊叫声，那声音不再是玩耍时兴奋的尖叫。她转过身，看到一头重达700磅、由皮毛和肌肉构成的庞然大物已经锁定了她7岁的儿子，并正快速逼近。
在仅有几秒钟的思考时间里，安吉欧冲向了那头熊，希望能拖住它，为儿子们创造逃跑的距离，同时大声喊着让他们快跑。
安吉欧身高五英尺，体重九十磅，即便浑身湿透也重不到哪儿去。
她用自己娇小的身躯猛地撞向北极熊，一马当先挥出拳头，开始用尽全力拳打脚踢。终于，这头被惊呆的巨兽做出了回应，一掌拍在她的脸上，力道之大让她仰面摔倒在地。
几乎就在同时，北极熊扑到了她身上，但安吉欧一有机会就以蹬自行车的动作不断踢踹着这个生物。她抓住这头动物的身体紧紧抱住，那只困惑的熊科动物再次向她挥掌，直到最后一次重击将她再次打翻在冰雪之上。
突然，一声枪响划破长空。接着是第二声，第三声。直到最后，这头既雄壮又可怕的巨熊瘫倒在地。
安吉欧得以逃生，脸部仅受轻伤，还有一只黑眼圈。
没人能解释这一切。他们推断，这头熊可能当时迷失了方向而非饥饿，甚至可能生病了。或许，身材瘦小的安吉欧爆发出了一种传说中的“歇斯底里性力量”，让她得以与这头八英尺高的北极巨兽搏斗。又或许，多年来作为毫无争议的顶级掠食者，让它对这种突如其来的对抗毫无准备。
唯一可以确定的是，安吉欧成为了当时唯一一个与北极熊进行肉搏战并幸存下来的人。
信念，是一种强大的力量。或许是最强大的。我父亲在我年少时就花了大量时间断言这一点，他认为人类所有最伟大和最可怕的成就，都源于最初相信它们可以被实现。
最近，我发现自己越来越倾向于同意他的观点。年近不惑，我见证了太多无法解释的事情：令人费解的政治局势、毫无逻辑的情感关系、让医学界困惑的奇迹康复，以及那些不知何故打出超越阵容纸面实力表现的球队。
在过去的几个赛季里，我发现自己已经失去了那种信念；那种相信马刺能够超越阵容的局限，让对手惊愕不已的信念。
这种信念曾经真实存在过。在很长一段时间里都是如此，那时，穹顶之上冠军旗帜投下的阴影，实际上是场上球员们的身影。但事实是，那些年的阵容也并非 那般 孱弱。
人们很容易忘记这一点，就像一个拿着木棍钓鱼的小男孩，在没有父亲和那个神奇渔具箱的陪伴下，发现自己无论如何也钓不到那么多鱼一样。
多年来，我看着马刺因无法将一切整合到位而屡屡受挫，却在某种程度上拒绝承认，他们本就没有太多可以整合的资本。即便一位法国天才少年的到来，也不足以掩盖阵容中的所有缺陷。
渐渐地，我失去了我的信念，却没有意识到，马刺队亦是如此。
昔日王朝的中流砥柱和最后纽带都已离去。这些球员不仅需要学习如何打球、如何进步才能赢球，他们更需要相信自己可以做到。
他们必须以一种只有真正虔诚和热忱之心才能确信那不可言喻之事的方式去认知。
观察他们的比赛，你能看出他们并不相信。他们很难在每一节都保持稳定，这极大地消耗了信心。进攻和防守的专注度时高时低，充满了焦虑。终结比赛感觉几乎是不可能的任务；知识上的差距与信念上的差距同样巨大。
但随后，一些事情开始发生变化。那些球员都成长了。管理层在交易市场上做出了一反常态的大手笔，并在自由球员市场中弥补了短板。而那股一直在增长的焦躁不安，那种只有一种方式才能满足的饥饿感，促使整个阵容在休赛期以一种前所未见的方式鞭策自己。
突然之间，马刺开始赢球了。而且他们持续赢球，伤病也无法阻挡。然后，他们无所畏惧的领袖因伤倒下，一切似乎又回到了原点。我们都看过这部电影，我们知道结局会是怎样。人们曾抱有一线希望，认为马刺可以在文班亚马伤缺期间将胜率维持在五成左右，但即便如此，在竞争激烈的西部联盟中，这也感觉像是一种奢望。
然后，在最意想不到的时候，马刺向我们所有人展示了一些东西。诚然，失去当家球星后的头几场比赛打得磕磕绊绊，但信心开始增长。球员们开始挺身而出。下一个站出来的人再次出现，每位球员轮流承担责任，就在那时，我看到了——他们眼中的闪光。那坚定不移的身体姿态。那种神情。
当马刺拒绝在强大的尼古拉·约基奇 (Nikola Jokic) 和掘金队面前退缩时，我看到了它。当他们沉着冷静地击败了那支曾让他们羸弱的前场饱受折磨的灰熊队时，我又一次看到了它。
而在对阵一支斗志昂扬的奥兰多魔术队的整个晚上，我一直都能看到它，那支以让马刺的每一次进攻都变成一场消耗战为荣的球队。在背靠背的第二晚，马刺毫不在意魔术给他们设置了什么障碍。他们缓慢而有条不紊地，在半场建立了领先优势。
然后，随着半场休息可能带来的懈怠影响到他们本已疲惫的双腿，他们开始失去阵地。
接着是失误，过早的跳投，以及防守上的沟通不畅。这感觉就像我看过无数遍的电影。我想，他们沉重的双腿注定了败局。但这没关系。我们大多数人都把这场比赛标记为一场“赛程劣势”的失利。只有最顶尖的球队才能找到方法赢得这样的比赛，而这支马刺显然还不是那样的球队。
我想，应该有人去告诉他们这一点。突然间，就在分差开始缩小时，马包在第四节开始几分钟后打出了一波攻势，由那冲动而优雅的迪伦·哈珀 (Dylan Harper) 引领。
马刺看起来很累。但他们看起来没有被击败。
魔术再次开始缩小分差，顽强地将比分追至仅差六分。
马刺拒绝失去镇定。哈珀又一次发起攻势，曾经的年度关键球员德阿隆·福克斯 (De’Aaron Fox) 也适时地贡献力量。但紧接着，他们两人都出现了糟糕的失误。
魔术利用了这些失误。马刺的球员们投篮尽失。杰里米·索汉 (Jeremy Sochan) 两罚不中。哈里森·巴恩斯 (Harrison Barnes) 在最糟糕的时刻对弗朗茨·瓦格纳 (Franz Wagner) 犯规，后者三罚全中。
比分打平了。然而，没有一个马刺球员看起来士气低落。他们的注意力高度集中在比赛上，而福克斯，这位马刺重金押注的明星，也稳稳命中了自己的两记罚球。
比赛还剩1.4秒。突然之间，弗朗茨·瓦格纳，那个我最不希望他拿到球的球员，在篮筐正下方得到了球权！
难道就到此为止了吗？马刺就要这样撕碎我那颗跳动的心吗？还谈什么镇定。
然后，不知从何处，一个七英尺高的模糊身影，右臂伸展，指尖触碰到了那颗令人揪心地旋转着的皮球。结束了。比赛结束了，终结于一记来自维克托·文班亚马 (Victor Wembanyama) 之外的球员的压哨封盖。
不知何故，卢克·科内特 (Luke Kornet) 仿佛从虚空中冒出，改变了比赛本身的走向。
这是一个源于确定性、源于信念、源于绝对信仰的动作。有太多事情可能出错。科内特可能会犯规。瓦格纳可能会预判到这一点并传给科内特的空位射手。科内特可能会时机不当导致干扰球。科内特可能会弄伤自己。
回看录像，我不知道他是怎么认为自己能及时赶到那里的。没有丝毫犹豫，没有半点困惑，也不是在正确的时间侥幸出现在了正确的位置。
据报道，当莉迪亚·安吉欧意识到危险时，她想的是：“‘我的孩子，我的孩子，我的孩子要被杀死了，我无能为力。’”但她还是冲了上去。她相信自己能做点什么，即使她不确定那是什么。
或许，在意识到危险时，科内特也想到了类似的事情。或许，他也经历了一次歇斯底里性力量的爆发。无论如何，卢克·科内特相信了，而马刺的战绩也来到了15胜6负。
赛后观察
- 我真的无法用言语来表达对新秀迪伦·哈珀的赞美。他的回归和存在感完全重塑了圣安东尼奥的轮换阵容，使其变得更好，尤其是替补席。感觉马刺已经很久很久没有一个年轻球员具备哈珀那样冲击篮筐的能力了。现在给人的感觉是，他作为一名突破手的效率已经堪比德阿隆·福克斯，这真的非常了不起。此外，他有一种真正的天赋，能将马刺的进攻从得分荒中解救出来。很少有新秀能有如此敏锐的关键时刻嗅觉，并且还能把握住它。如果他能保持下去，马刺很有可能在他们管理层的功勋簿上再添一座年度最佳新秀奖杯。即使哈珀最终未能获奖，我猜他也不会相差太远。他就是那么出色。不仅仅是作为一名新秀。就是这么出色。
- 哈里森·巴恩斯和朱利安·尚帕尼 (Julian Champagnie) 之间正在形成一种与他们得分相关的趋势。在维克托缺阵的情况下，马刺在进攻端非常依赖他们的表现。到目前为止，如果这两名球员得分都上双，马刺就能赢球或保持比分紧咬。如果不能，圣安东尼奥就会在得分上挣扎，这一点尤其重要，因为在缺少了顶级的护筐手之后，他们的防守正在慢慢滑落回中游水平。昨晚，这两名球员合力贡献了25分，这几乎可以肯定地改变了比赛的结局。
- 我认为是时候给凯尔登·约翰逊 (Keldon Johnson) 一些赞誉了。他似乎已经完全适应了第六人的角色，并且凭借他目前的表现，他绝对应该进入全联盟范围内的某些奖项讨论。他目前的真实命中率、有效命中率和球员效率值（PER）都达到了职业生涯新高。他从未如此高效过，并且与哈珀搭档后，他不仅撑起了替补阵容，还帮助替补席成为了马刺的一大显著优势。事实上，甚至可以说哈珀进一步激发了凯尔登的潜力，他犀利的突破为凯尔登推土机式的篮下冲击创造了更多空间，而他的传球总能在他移动时恰到好处地送到位。圣安东尼奥的替补席已经很久没有这么让人看得过瘾了。
赛后旋律——今夜主题曲：
Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey
由生成式人工智能翻译，译文内容可能不准确或不完整，以原文为准。
点击查看原文：What we learned from the Spurs win over the Magic
What we learned from the Spurs win over the Magic
In 2006, at the edge of the northernmost settlement in Quebec, Canada, the diminutive Lydia Angyiou went toe-to-toe with a polar bear.
This was, of course, not her idea per se. The small town of Ivujivik is a sub-arctic community, existing just 185 miles outside of the Arctic Circle, and roughly 1000 miles from the North Pole. The population experiences a grand total of 20 days a year without ice.
Certainly, there’s a higher probability of encountering a polar bear there than in most places on Earth. Still, such encounters in a populated area are exceedingly rare, which is why Lydia Angyiou’s blood ran cold the moment she spotted it.
On a walk with her sons, she heard shouting from a group of children playing street hockey that no longer resembled the eager keening of play, and turned to see that 700 pounds of fur and muscle had zeroed in on her 7-year-old and was rapidly approaching.
With only seconds to think, Angyiou charged the bear, hoping to delay it and create distance for her sons as she shouted to them to run away.
Angyiou stood five feet tall and weighed ninety pounds, dripping wet.
She slammed her tiny frame into the polar bear, leading with her fist, and began to punch and kick it with all her might. Finally, the stunned behemoth responded, swatting her in the face with such force that she tumbled onto her back.
Almost immediately, the bear was on her, but Angyiou resumed kicking the creature at every opening in a bicycling motion. She grabbed onto the animal’s body and clung to it, and the perplexed ursid swatted at her again until finally landing a blow, sprawling her across the snow and ice once more.
Suddenly, a shot rang out. Then another. And another. Until finally the equally majestic and terrifying bruin slumped to the ground.
Angyiou had escaped with only minor wounds to her face, and a black eye.
No one could explain it. It was possible, they reasoned, that the bear had been disoriented rather than hungry, perhaps even ill. Perhaps the diminutive Angyiou had summoned a legendary instance of hysterical strength, allowing her to grapple with the eight-foot-tall polar colossus. Perhaps all the years as an uncontested apex predator had left it ill-prepared for such an unexpected confrontation.
The only thing that was certain was that Angyiou had become the only currently living human to engage in hand-to-hand combat with a polar bear and survive.
Belief is a powerful thing. Perhaps the most powerful. My father certainly spent most of my youth asserting that this was the case, positing that all of the greatest and the most terrible things that humanity had achieved had only been possible through the belief that it could be achieved in the first place.
Lately, I find myself inclined to agree with him. Closing in on four decades, I’ve seen things that I simply can’t explain. Political situations that are confounding. Relationships that don’t make sense. Miraculous recoveries that baffle the medical establishment. Teams that somehow play beyond the sum of their parts.
Over the past several seasons, I’ve found myself bereft of that belief; the belief that the Spurs can play beyond the limitations of their roster to the consternation of the opposition.
It was true once. It was true for a long time, when the shadows cast by the banners in the rafters were instead cast by players on the court. But the truth was, those rosters weren’t quite that limited.
It was easy to forget in the way that a young boy fishing with a stick finds that he somehow fails to catch anywhere near as many fish in the absence of his father and that magical tackle box.
For years, I watched the Spurs frustrated by their failure to put it all together, refusing, on some level, to acknowledge that there wasn’t that much to put together in the first place. Even the arrival of a French wunderkind wasn’t enough to cover the flaws in the roster.
Little by little, I lost my belief, not realizing that so too had the Spurs.
Gone were the mainstays and last links to a bygone dynasty. It wasn’t just that these players had to learn to play and improve in order to win. They had to believe that they could.
They had to know in that way that only the truly devoted and the ardent-hearted are certain of the ineffable.
Watching them, you could see that they didn’t. Consistency from quarter to quarter was difficult and confidence-sapping. Offensive and defensive attention waxed and waned, and reeked of anxiety. Closing out games felt all but impossible; the gap in knowledge matched by the gap in certainty.
But then, something started to happen. Those players all got older. The front office took an uncharacteristically large swing in the trade market and shored up weaknesses in free-agency. And the restlessness that had been growing, the hunger that can only be fed one way, spurred the roster to push themselves in the off-season in a manner not seen in some time.
And suddenly, the Spurs started winning. And they kept winning, injuries be damned. And then their fearless leader went down with an injury, and all bets were off. We’d all seen this movie before. We knew how it would end. There was faint hope that the Spurs could tread water around .500 for the duration of Wembanyama’s injury, but even that felt audacious in the hotly contested Western Conference.
And then, when it was least expected, the Spurs showed us all something. To be sure, the first couple of games without the franchise player were clunky, but the confidence began to grow. Players began to assert themselves. The next man up began stepping up once again, each player taking it in their turn, and that’s when I saw it — the glint in the eye. The unchanging physical demeanors. The look.
I saw it when the Spurs refused to cower against the mighty Nikola Jokic and the Nuggets. I saw it again when they quietly iced a Grizzlies team that had given their thinned front-court hell previously.
And I had seen it all night against a feisty Orlando Magic team that took pride in making every Spurs possession an exercise in attrition. On the second night of a back-to-back, the Spurs didn’t care what roadblocks the Magic threw at them. Slowly, methodically, they built their lead in the first half.
And then, with the lull at the half potentially affecting their already tired legs, they began to lose ground.
Then came the turnovers, and the too-early jump shooting, and the defensive miscues. It felt like a movie I’d seen a million times before. Those leaden legs have doomed them, I thought. But it was okay. Most of us had this one down as a schedule loss. Only the best teams found ways to win games like this, and these Spurs were certainly not those Spurs.
I suppose somebody should have told them that. Suddenly, the Spurs made a run a few minutes into the 4th quarter, just as the gap began to close, with the impetuously graceful Dylan Harper leading the way.
The Spurs looked tired. What they didn’t look was defeated.
Again, the Magic began to close the gap, clawing their way back within six points.
The Spurs refused to lose composure. And once again Harper started a run, with one-time clutch player of the year De’Aaron Fox pitching in for good measure. And just as suddenly, they both had messy turnovers.
The Magic took advantage of the lapses. None of the Spurs could hit a shot. Jeremy Sochan missed a pair of free throws. Harrison Barnes chose the worst moment to foul Franz Wagner, and he made all three of his.
The score was tied. And yet, not a single Spurs player looked demoralized. The focus was taut and fully on the game, and Fox, the star the Spurs had swung for, made a pair of free throws of his own.
There were 1.4 seconds left. And suddenly, Franz Wagner, the only player I didn’t want to have the ball, had gained possession just underneath the rim!
Was this it then? Was this how the Spurs were going to rip my beating heart out? So much for composure.
And then, out of nowhere, a seven-foot blur, right arm outstretched, made fingertip contact with the agonizingly rotating sphere. It was over. The game was over, ended on a walk-off block from a player other than Victor Wembanyama.
Somehow, Luke Kornet had materialized from the ether and altered the fabric of the game itself.
It was a movement born of certainty, of conviction, of utter belief. There were so many things that could have gone wrong. Kornet could have fouled him. Wagner could have anticipated it and thrown to Kornet’s open shooter. Kornet could have timed it badly enough to result in goal-tending. Kornet could have injured himself.
Looking at it in replay, I don’t know how he thought he’d make it there in time. There was no hesitation. No confusion. No instance of luckily being at the right place at the right time.
“‘My boy, my boy, my boy is going to be killed, nothing I can do.” were the reported thoughts of Lydia Angyiou once she recognized the danger. She charged anyway. She believed she could do something, even if she wasn’t certain what it was.
Maybe, recognizing the danger, Kornet had thought something similar. Perhaps he, too, experienced a bout of hysterical strength. Whatever the case may be, Luke Kornet believed, and the Spurs are 15-6.
Takeaways
- I honestly cannot gush enough about rookie Dylan Harper. His return and presence completely reshape San Antonio’s rotations for the better, especially the bench. It feels like it’s been a long, long time since the Spurs had a young player with the ability to go downhill the way that Harper does. Already he feels like he’s as effective a penetrator as De’Aaron Fox is, and that’s really saying something. Additionally, he has a real talent for breaking the Spurs offense out of cold spells. It’s rare that any rookie has such a sense of the moment, and is also able to seize it. If he can keep this up there’s a very real chance the Spurs will add another Rookie of the Year trophy to their list of front office conquests. And even if Harper comes up short, I suspect it won’t be by much. He’s really that good. Not just for a rookie. Period.
- There is a developing trend with Harrison Barnes and Julian Champaginie, and it revolves around their scoring. With Victor out, the Spurs are very dependent on their performances on the offensive end. So far, if both players break double digits in scoring, the Spurs are able to win/keep it close. If not, San Antonio struggles to keep pace, which is especially important as their defense slowly descends back to middling without their premier rim defender. Both players were able to combine for 25 points last night, and that almost certainly made the difference.
- I think it’s time for some love for Keldon Johnson. He appears to have finally fully settled into his role as 6th man, and he should certainly be in some league-wide award conversations for what he’s doing right now, as he’s currently sporting the best True Shooting Percentage, Effective Field Goal Percentage, and Player Efficiency Rating of his career. He’s never been more efficient, and in tandem with Harper, he not only keeps the bench afloat, but has helped turn it into a resounding strength for the Spurs. In fact, there’s an argument to be made that Harper has drawn even more out of Keldon, with his sharp drives creating even more space for Keldon’s bulldozing forays to the rim, and his passes hitting him perfectly in stride when on the move. It’s been a while since San Antonio’s bench was this fun to watch.
Playing You Out – The Theme Song of the Evening:
Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey
By Devon Birdsong, via Pounding The Rock