My Patrick Ewing Retrospective

By: Cord Frieden

Posted: 9/30/02

If I had to pick a defining moment of Patrick Ewing's seventeen-year NBA career (which came to a close with his retirement earlier this month), it wouldn't be Hakeem Olajuwon's fingertip deflection of John Starks' potential championship winning shot at the buzzer of Game 6 of the 1994 NBA Finals. The Knicks went on to lose Game 7, and with it, the series.

I wouldn't pick the four unsuccessful layup attempts by Charles Smith in the closing seconds of the pivotal Game 5 of the 1993 Eastern Conference Finals, played at Madison Square Garden. The series was tied 2-2, the Bulls were leading by 1, and Ewing was standing idly at the foul line; the Bulls won the game, won the series, and went on to win the NBA championship over the Suns.

Ewing's defining moment wasn't his errant game-tying finger roll at the buzzer of Game 7 against Indiana in 1995, which also came in the friendly confines of MSG. With Michael Jordan retired, the East was wide open, but the Knicks squandered their chance against a hungrier Pacers team.

And it wasn't the closing minutes of a blowout Game 5 loss at the hands of Miami in 1997, when Ewing defied direct orders from veteran teammate Buck Williams and strayed from the Knicks' bench to more closely observe a scrum between Charlie Ward and P.J. Brown. The Knicks led the series 3-1 before Game 5, but Ewing and several teammates were suspended as a result of joining the fray; the Heat won the final three games and sent the Knicks home without another chance at the Bulls – a team they had split the season series with.

No, the defining moment of Patrick Ewing's career took place in Fall 1996. Pat Riley had faxed in his resignation and slithered out of New York. Don Nelson had been appointed head coach of the Knicks. Don Nelson - the architect of fifty-win Run TMC in Golden State and, more recently, consecutive fifty-win seasons in Dallas.

Nelson evaluated his personnel and realized that their tenacious defense and team speed could lead to easy fast break points. He sought to change the Knicks' offensive approach, from the plodding, predictable, half-court set offense (which made the 1994 NBA Finals the lowest-rated in a decade) to a more up-tempo run 'n' gun.

He met with Ewing and explained what he was thinking. He explained that the center would need to take on a new role in this offense. He asked him to work on his passing skills, as Ewing was a notoriously bad passer (he'd averaged 2.2 assists per game over the previous 5 seasons). He asked him to work on running the floor. Ewing was consistently the last man up the court, forcing his teammates to slow the ball down in the offensive zone and wait as he lumbered to take his place in the paint.

Ewing's response to Nelson?

Silence. He turned and walked away.

This is the defining moment of Patrick Ewing's career. His coach, a respected veteran of the NBA, had asked him to change his game for the good of the team, and Patrick turned a deaf ear.

Ewing would continue to play for a few more years, the marquee name on an above-average team, but he never won that elusive championship. They came closest in 1999 – advancing to the NBA Finals from the #8 seed thanks to an up-tempo offense and an infusion of speed and agility in the body of Marcus Camby. (Did I neglect to mention that they made that playoff run with Ewing watching from the sidelines with an injury? Consider Don Nelson vindicated.)

In the spirit of nostalgia, sportswriters have welcomed Ewing into retirement by lauding him as a warrior and a champion. In reality, he was neither.

Patrick Ewing was a selfish, egocentric, oversized small forward. His career assist-to-turnover ratio is 0.62 (with a season high of 0.83), yet he refused his coach's request to work on his passing game. At 7'0", he was best known for fadeaway jumpers from sixteen feet out.

He left the dirty work to Charles Oakley, Xavier McDaniel, and Anthony Mason. He refused to subvert himself for the good of the team. He defied the wishes of his coach (and in essence, got him fired – Nelson didn't even last one full season).

Don't feel sorry for Patrick Ewing. There's a good reason he never won a championship or MVP award. Great players make the people around them better. Ewing had no interest in doing that. He made that abundantly clear when he turned his back on his coach six years ago.