Clash of the Methuselahs

     I'll admit I'm not much of a fan of the NBA these days.  I stopped watching most regular season games around the time I realized it wasn't really that important to me whether Tim Duncan could win without David Robinson (apparently he can).  Not to mention the simple fact that any NBA game worth watching is only worth watching for the last five minutes or so.  Or that it seems pretty much every team gets into the playoffs, just like the good 'ol NHL.  Of course hockey's playoffs are better but I will admit even the interminable NBA playoffs are good TV.  I just don't have the patience to watch what I think of as "bad" basketball for the six-month regular season
     And that's OK.  If I start feeling nostalgic for "my" NBA I can always pop in a DVD of the 80's Celtics, Lakers or Pistons; the 90's Bulls, Rockets or Knicks (I still feel bad for Pat Ewing and Sir Charles) or the Ought's Spurs.  ESPN Classic sometimes shows some pretty darn good games too.
I'll leave the NBA and its current cast of Dwight Howard, Derrick Rose, Kevin Durant, Melo and The King to those who want to follow them.
     So imagine my pleasant surprise last night when I stumbled across TNT's Dallas Mavericks/ Phoenix Suns match-up.  It was like being transported to a magical arena where players play for as long as they want and the ravages of time (not to mention injuries) seemed not to matter.  Now I know there are plenty of players who hang around the NBA way past their prime but to have so many assembled in one place and still playing like they were in their prime (well, maybe not Grant Hill so much but I'm just happy he can still walk) seemed to me nothing short of miraculous.
     Some of the Methuselahs on the court last night would have made Brett Favre proud (if Favre could be proud of anything these days).  Jason Kidd is practically my age and I went to Greg Kite's basketball camp as a teenager.  I thought Kidd was still a Net.  Hell, I thought the Nets retired his number.  Actually what I really thought was that poor Kevin Johnson was probably wondering how the young guy who carried his bags was still in the league.  Jason Kidd played against Michael (in Michael's first time around), Hakeem, Barkley and The Mailman.  Most of Kidd's younger teammates only know Barkley as a bad gambler but worse golfer.  Or would except they're all pretty old themselves.
     It only seems like Kidd's a rookie compared to Grant Hill; they're actually pretty close in age.  Most NBA followers will tell you Hill lost a lot off his game due to injuries.  Yeah, he sprained his back helping Naismith hang the peach baskets.  Seriously, though, Grant Hill played at Duke only a few years after Danny Ferry, who himself played only a few years after  Dick Groat.
     Steve Nash and his hair have been around almost as long.  Nash is Canadian so he looks and acts younger than he really is, a by-product of stress-free socialized medicine while he was growing up but he's actually been in the league so long that ESPN voted him the Ninth Best Point Guard of All Time, an award that came with a lifetime supply of Icy Hot, presented to him by fellow octogenarian Shaq.  He's been in the league for so long that ESPN felt the need to put him on an all-time list while he's still playing which probably says more about the network than Nash himself.
      Poor Vince Carter and Dirk Nowitzki.  They're almost too young for this conversation.  Almost.  I remember when Vince was a dunking machine but I'm not sure he does anymore.  Back when he was a Toronto Raptor Vince was diagnosed with "Jumper's Knee" which is a nice way of saying "You're getting too old for all that dunking."  Dirk is still young enough to be considered in his prime despite all his injuries but old enough to be considered damaged goods despite still being in his prime.  Dirk's actually playing at a near-MVP level right now, pretty impressive for a guy who just a month ago seemed ready to head to the local Denny's to fill out his AARP application.
     The Mavericks, at least, apparently felt that Dirk and Jason needed some old friends to help them out; Peja Stojakovic, Jason Terry, Deshawn Stevenson (DeShawn Stevenson!) and Brian Cardinal (Brian Cardinal!!) all have ten or more years in the league.  Tyson Chandler only has nine years in the league; it just seems longer because he entered the draft straight out of middle school and then decided to play for every team in the league at least once.
     I certainly don't mean to demean these guys or their accomplishments.  This is more about my own perceptions of the passage of time as viewed through the sporting filter.  I guess those who watch the present are occasionally doomed to see the past, in all it's receding hairline, knee-braced glory.  Carry on old-timers- I'll be rooting for you all the way.  To the trainer's table, most likely, but still rooting for those who would continue to sprint and leap ahead of that final two-minute warning.