By Devon Birdsong | Pounding The Rock (PtR), 2026-04-03 14:00:00
我对“局限性”这件事非常着迷。我想我并不孤单，但在我身上，这种着迷近乎一种病态。即便某件事的上限显而易见地低，我也会好奇它到底能低到什么程度。
NFT 看起来就像是显而易见的江湖骗局（尤其是那个“无聊猿”现象），但在它最终崩盘之前，我无法停止追踪它的崛起。我们大多数人都知道那一刻迟早会到来，但我就是想知道它们会被天文数字般地高估到什么地步。
在 90 年代中后期，我还太年轻，无法完全领略“豆豆娃”（Beanie Babies）的价值有多么荒诞，但我不能错过这出戏的第二幕，我被深深吸引了。
那种围绕着它的、近乎致命的乐观情绪令人着迷。它成了某种试金石，检验着那些你此前认为理智的人，以及那些散发着虚伪气息的人。谁能免疫是不可预测的。这并不是因为它暴露了愚蠢，而是因为它暴露了即便连聪明人都无法幸免的东西：希望的武器化。
我不需要摩根·弗里曼 (Morgan Freeman) 那悦耳的嗓音来提醒我希望是一件危险的事情。作为一名马刺球迷，我正生活在那种现实中。
死守着每一次边角料般的引援。如果球队取得了两场或更多的连胜，我就屏住呼吸。在比赛录像和数据统计中苦苦搜寻，只为寻找那一丝最微弱的曙光。
我看着凯尔登·约翰逊 (Keldon Johnson) 刷起篮板，并跌跌撞撞地进入一段不可预见的远投手感火热期。我幻想他能成为一个弱化版的、拥有神准投射的查尔斯·巴克利 (Charles Barkley)，全然不顾那些篮板数据是在其他队友都不抢板的情况下单打独斗的结果，也不顾他的投篮姿势粗糙得就像中世纪的投石机。
我告诉自己，德章泰·穆雷 (Dejounte Murray) 和德玛尔·德罗赞 (DeMar DeRozan) 的中距离技术可以轻易延伸到三分线外，奇普·英格兰德 (Chip Engelland) 会施展他的魔法，却忽略了即便在他的指导下，托尼·帕克 (Tony Parker) 也从未真正成为一名外线威胁。
老天爷帮帮我，我甚至让自己觉得也许卢卡·沙马尼奇 (Luka Samanic) 是对的，在不久的将来，他可能会变得有点像凯文·杜兰特 (Kevin Durant)。我抓住每一根稻草，钻进每一个兔子洞，关注着每一次波动。
你知道吗？我错了。我彻头彻尾地、毫无疑问地、令人尴尬地错了。
但事情就是这样。没有人能对生活中某一部分对希望的需求产生免疫。那时我正经历婚姻困扰。我因工作的管理层变动而倍感压力。就在我女儿出生前两周，在全国封锁期间，我被诊断出患有一种退行性疾病。
我需要相信某些不合理的事情是可能的，即便我的大脑很清楚事实并非如此。如果说对于那些真正的疯子你有一点可以肯定的话，那就是他们很少遭遇信仰危机。
我觉得极其有趣的是，我们其他人所定义的疯狂，往往仅仅是对集体公认的荒谬之事的信仰。这让我怀疑，这种集体共识到底有多脆弱。
因为，老实说，我们中难道有人不相信至少一件模糊而荒诞的事情吗？
当然，相信超过一半的人口已被取代其身份的蜥蜴人所取代，与相信朗尼·沃克 (Lonnie Walker IV) 只要能找到正确的找回信心的咒语就能蜕变成某种版本的文斯·卡特 (Vince Carter) 之间是有区别的，但我开始推测，这种差距并没有人们想象的那么大。
我怀疑这（很大程度上）更多地取决于某种信仰对你余生的消耗程度，而不是信仰本身。毕竟，我有一件乔克·兰代尔 (Jock Landale) 的 T 恤，至今还没人把我关起来。
问题在于，一旦你达到了能够识别幻觉的境地，它会让你对任何试图以类似方式诱惑你的事物变得有些畏首畏尾。
你识别出了那种感觉，然后将其与之前关于马拉基·布兰纳姆 (Malaki Branham) 潜力的幻觉联系起来，这让你出戏到了一种挥舞着十字架和圣水，命令恶魔退散的程度。
这一整年，我主要的本能反应都是如此。
马刺取得了两双位数的连胜？好吧，我们别高兴得太早。
他们不断击败现任 NBA 总冠军？我的意思是，这毕竟只是常规赛。
他们在二月份保持不败？那只有 11 场比赛。
他们每场比赛都得到 110 分以上？NBA 的防守已经今非昔比了。
该死，我甚至在同一个月刚开始两周时，就宣称马刺距离冠军水准还差一点。虽然马刺在随后的时间里确实进化成了不同的样子，但不难理解我为什么会有那种感觉。不稳定性普遍存在。年轻化是毋庸置疑的。
但这就是理性的特点，它不是一场零和博弈。有时在我们追求理智的过程中，我们会向错误的方向倾斜得太远。我们将哲学神化，在我们渴望世界连贯一致的过程中，我们将希望寄托在同样荒谬的事情上。
根据神话，毕达哥拉斯学派狂热地相信宇宙是理性的，他们将同胞希帕索斯 (Hippasus) 扔进深海，因为他揭示了根号 2 的无理性。
我从那个故事中得到的启示一直是：没有任何一种确定的思维模式能让你免受宇宙不可预测性的影响。
我看到更多的人将维克托·文班亚马 (Victor Wembanyama) 的到来归结为命运和/或积极思考的力量，而不是数学上的概率。数据并没有那么乐观。
有时你必须把希望寄托在某些事情上，即便是在其他信仰和教条的框架内。有时你就是必须相信。
不同之处在于，这支球队不是虚假的繁荣。早在他们在没有巨人领袖文班亚马的情况下，斩落那个“不能提名字的外甥”和他那饥渴的洛杉矶快船之前，我就已经开始这么想了。
59 胜。马刺将赢得 60 场以上的比赛。他们刚刚拿下了本赛季第二次 11 连胜，并且在击败一支整个赛季都与他们打得难解难分的球队的过程中，显得极其淡定。
达龙·福克斯 (De’Aaron Fox) 提醒球迷们，他腿上的喷气助推器仍处于巅峰期，他选择出手点的眼光和手法就像一个深谙所有行业门道的资深嘉年华老手。
斯蒂芬·卡斯尔 (Stephon Castle) 继续让那些在三分线外放空他的球队付出代价，在过去的 10 场比赛中，他的三分命中率提升到了 43%，他在拥挤的空间中穿梭，就像千年隼号穿过小行星带一样。
卢克·科内特 (Luke Kornet) 在保护禁区方面尽力模仿文班，而迪伦·哈珀 (Dylan Harper) 传球的细腻程度就像珠宝商制作法贝热彩蛋一样，他的大胆让进攻通道变得如此宽敞，以至于感觉快船几乎是在求着他开始上篮表演。
每个人都做出了贡献。没人显得大汗淋漓。他们在赛季的大部分时间里都在承受每支球队的最强一击，并在此过程中成为了一支局限性仅存在于想象边缘的球队。
马刺的到来更像是 iPhone 的横空出世，而不是充斥着卡通猴子的区块链。当然，总会有人对他们嗤之以鼻，死守着他们的黑莓手机。
不过，我同情他们。他们必须希望自己的球队能保持竞争力。希望潮水依然高涨。希望他们不是在逆水行舟，被不断地推回过去。我也曾站在那一端，我不能责怪他们的幻想。
希望是每个赤裸皇帝的华服，我们都轮流扮演着这个角色。
不过，欢迎他们借用我的乔克·兰代尔 T 恤。我听说它正在升值。
要点回顾：
- 整个赛季的大部分时间里，我一直对此直言不讳：如果斯蒂芬·卡斯尔能保持现在的三分命中率，那么迪伦·哈珀 (Dylan Harper) 就是控球位置上最自然的人选。在轮换阵容中，没有哪位球员比哈珀的失误控制效率更高，即便他的触球次数在增加。他的传球会让马努感到脸红。他内线终结的轻松感会让新秀时期的托尼·帕克感到羞愧。他可以投外线，而且他能像贴膏药一样防守后卫和侧翼，与卡斯尔在后场形成了天然的搭档（卡斯尔本人能够限制哈珀无法处理的前锋）。他没能赢得最佳新秀 (ROY) 真是太遗憾了，因为如果他和卡斯尔互换选秀年份，他肯定能赢。他就是那么优秀。无论如何，圣安东尼奥的后场组合无论现在还是未来都将极具压迫感。想到他们下个赛季能做到什么，我就几乎无法抑制内心的激动。
- 昨天下午我做了一些深入的数据挖掘，发现德文·瓦塞尔 (Devin Vassell) 和朱利安·尚帕尼 (Julian Champagnie) 的净效率在全联盟低使用率球员中是最高的。他们是攻防两端效率的定义，昨晚他们帮助限制了健康的科怀·伦纳德 (Kawhi Leonard)，同时贡献了他们惯常的远投。马刺几乎从他们两人同时进入首发阵容的那一刻起，进攻效率就领先全联盟，这绝非巧合。文班可能是驱动这列火车的引擎，但他们是勤恳地向炉火中添煤的人，而且他们让火烧得很旺！
- 另外，天哪，当这支球队可以依靠卢克·科内特时，情况完全不同。无意冒犯梅森·普拉姆利 (Mason Plumlee)（他作为替补的表现比俾斯麦·比永博好得多），但科内特的健康对于这支球队在季后赛闯过西部丛林至关重要。他最近有点小伤，所以我希望看到马刺在赛季结束前让他休息一下。面对大多数球队，只要文班在场，他们就可以减少科内特的上场时间。诚然，快船的前场阵容远谈不上可怕，但阻止他们获得任何轻松得分，可能就是打出一个非常紧张的第四节与以两位数优势轻松获胜之间的区别。我敢说，他是这个休赛期 NBA 最好的签约之一。
结束曲 —— 今晚的主题曲：
Supertramp 的 The Logical Song
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。
点击查看原文：What we learned from the Spurs win over the Clippers
What we learned from the Spurs win over the Clippers
I’m fascinated by limitations. I don’t think I’m alone in this, but in my case, the fascination borders on morbidity. Even when the ceiling on something is predictably low, I’m curious as to how precisely low that is.
NFTs seemed like such obvious snake oil (especially the whole ‘Bored Ape’ phenomenon), but I couldn’t stop tracking the ascent before the eventual downfall. Most of us knew it was coming, but I just had to know how astronomically overvalued they would become.
I had been a bit young to fully appreciate how farcical the value of beanie babies were in the mid-to-late 90s, but I couldn’t miss out on part deux, and I was riveted.
There was an almost fatal optimism around it that was spellbinding. It became a sort of litmus test for those you had previously considered reasonable and those who reeked of artifice. Immunity was unpredictable. Not because it exposed the unintelligent, but because it exposed what even the intelligent were not exempt from: the weaponization of hope.
I didn’t need the dulcet tones of Morgan Freeman’s voice to remind me that hope was a dangerous thing. I was living that reality as a Spurs fan.
Clinging to every peripheral acquisition. Holding my breath if the team strung two or more wins together in a row. Panning my way through game replays and box scores in search of the faintest glimmer.
I watched Keldon Johnson pile up rebounds and stumble his way into an unforeseeably hot streak from long distance. I fantasized that he could be a sharpshooting Charles Barkley-lite, never minding that those rebound numbers had been the result of an otherwise lone effort on the boards, or that his shooting form roughly resembled that of a medieval trebuchet.
I told myself that Dejounte Murray and DeMar DeRozan’s mid-range games could easily be extended beyond the arc, and that Chip Engelland would work his magic, ignoring that even under his tutelage, Tony Parker had never really managed to become an outside threat.
Lord help me, I even let myself think that maybe Luka Samanic was right, and that something dimly resembling Kevin Durant could be looming somewhere off in his future. I grasped at every straw, I crawled down every rabbit hole, I tuned into every fluctuation.
And you know what? I was wrong. I was categorically, unquestionably, embarrassingly wrong.
But that’s the thing. No one is immune to the necessity of hope in one part of their lives or another. I was experiencing marital troubles. I was strained by a regime change at work. I was diagnosed with a degenerative condition just two weeks before my daughter was born, in the midst of a country-wide lockdown.
I needed to believe that something unreasonable was possible, even when the rest of my brain knew better. If there’s one thing you can say for the truly mad, it’s that they’re rarely suffering from a crisis of faith.
I find it to be supremely interesting that what the rest of us designate as insanity is often merely a belief in that which the collective agrees is preposterous. It makes me wonder how flimsy that agreement really is.
Because, honestly, are there any of us who do not believe in at least one vaguely absurd thing?
Sure, there’s a difference between believing that more than half the population has been replaced by lizard beings who have assumed their identities and believing that Lonnie Walker IV could blossom into some variation of Vince Carter if he could just find the right confidence-restoring mantra, but I’m starting to surmise that it’s not as large a gap as one might think.
I suspect it (largely) has more to do with how much a belief consumes the rest of your life rather than the belief itself. After all, I have a Jock Landale t-shirt and no one’s come to put me away, yet.
The problem is that once you reach a place where you’re capable of recognizing the delusion for what it is, it can make you a little gun-shy regarding anything that threatens to seduce you in a similar fashion.
You recognize the sensation, and then connect it to previous hallucinations in relation to the potential of one Malaki Branham, and it kind of takes you out of it to the point of wielding your crosses and your holy water whilst bidding the devil begone.
That’s been my prevailing instinct all year.
The Spurs are on a double-digit win-streak? Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
They keep beating the reigning NBA champions? I mean, it is just the regular season after all.
They go undefeated for the month of February? It was only 11 games.
They scored 110+ points in every game? Defense in the NBA isn’t what it used to be.
Hell, I even went as far as to declare the Spurs just shy of championship caliber two weeks into the very same month. And while the Spurs have certainly evolved into something different in the time that has passed, it’s not hard to see why I felt that way. The inconsistency was prevalent. The youth was without question.
But that’s the thing about rationality, it’s not a zero-sum game. Sometimes in our desire to be reasonable, we tilt too far in the wrong direction. We make a deity out of philosophy, and in our desire for the world to be coherent, we place our hope in something equally absurd.
According to the myth, the Pythagoreans, cultic in their belief in a rational universe, threw their compatriot Hippasus into the depths of the sea for bringing to light the irrationality of the square root of 2.
My takeaway from that story has always been that there’s no definitive mode of thought that can insulate you from the unpredictability of the cosmos.
I saw more people attribute the arrival of Victor Wembanyama to fate and/or the power of positive thinking than to mathematical chance. The numbers were just not as optimistic.
Sometimes you just have to place your hope in something, even within the framework of other faiths and creeds. Sometimes you just have to believe.
The difference is that this team isn’t fool’s gold. I had started thinking that long before they cut down the-nephew-that-must-not-be-name and the hungry Los Angeles Clippers without the aid of their gargantuan leader.
59 wins. The Spurs are going to win 60+ games. They’ve just tallied their 2nd 11 game win streak of the season, and looked supremely unbothered in the process of knocking down a team that’s played them close and hard all season.
De’Aaron Fox reminded fans that the jet-boosters attached to his legs are still in their prime, picking his spots with the selectivity and sleight-of-hand of a longtime carnival worker who knows all the tricks of the trade.
Stephon Castle continued to make teams pay for sagging off of him at the arc, upping his three-point percentage to 43% over the last 10 games, and navigating crowded space like the Millennium Falcon through an asteroid belt.
Luke Kornet did his best Wemby impression in protecting the paint, and Dylan Harper threaded passes with the delicacy of a jeweler crafting a Faberge egg and an audacity that opened up lanes so wide that it almost felt like the Clippers were begging him to start a layup line.
Everyone made their contribution. Nobody seemed to break a sweat. They’ve spent most of the season taking every team’s best shot, and in doing so have become a team for whom limitation exists at the boundary of what they can imagine.
The Spurs have arrived in a manner that is much more suggestive of the iPhone than a blockchain full of cartoon monkeys. And sure, there are gonna be people who sneer at them and cling to their Blackberry.
I have empathy for them, though. They have to hope their teams will remain relevant. That the tide is still high. That they’re not beating on against the current, being borne ceaselessly into the past. I’ve been on the other side of it, and I can’t begrudge them their fantasies.
Hope is the garment of every naked emperor, and we all take turns playing at the role.
They’re welcome to borrow my Jock Landale t-shirt, though. I hear it’s going up in value.
Takeaways:
- I’ve been pretty vocal about this for most of the season, but if Stephon Castle can keep hitting threes the way he has been, Dylan Harper is the most natural fit for running the point. No player on the roster getting real minutes has been more turnover efficient than Harper, even as his touches increase. He converts passes that would make Manu blush. He finishes inside with an ease that would put rookie Tony Parker to shame. He can hit shots from the outside, and he sticks to guards and wings alike, forming a natural pairing with Castle in the back-court (who is himself capable of thwarting the forwards that Harper cannot handle). It’s really a shame that he’s not going to win ROY, because he definitely would have if he’d swapped draft years with Castle. He’s just that good. Whatever the case, San Antonio’s back-court is set up to be oppressive both now and in the future. I can barely contain myself thinking about what they’ll be capable of next season.
- I did a bit of a deep dive data-wise yesterday afternoon, and discovered that Devin Vassell and Julian Champagnie have the highest net ratings for low usage players in the league. They are the definition of efficiency on both ends, and they helped keep a healthy Kawhi Leonard in check last night, while adding their usual long-distance contributions. It’s no coincidence that the Spurs have led the league in offensive rating pretty much from the moment they both made their way into the starting lineup together. Wemby might be the engine that runs this train, but they’re the ones diligently throwing coal on the fire, and they’re keeping it hot!
- Also, boy is this team different when they can lean on Luke Kornet. No offense to Mason Plumlee (who’s been a damn sight better in relief than Bismack Biyombo), but Kornet’s health is paramount to this team making it through the Western gauntlet in the postseason. He’s been a little banged up as of late, so I’d love to see the Spurs rest him a bit before the close of the season. Against most teams, as long as Wemby’s playing, they can get away with playing him less. Admittedly, the Clippers’ front-court squad is far from fearsome, but keeping them from getting any easy points was probably the difference in playing out a very stressful 4th quarter, and walking away with a double-digit margin of victory. He’s been one of the best signings in the NBA this offseason, I’d daresay.
Playing You Out – The Theme Song of the Evening:
The Logical Song by Supertramp
By Devon Birdsong, via Pounding The Rock