By Dennis Hans

Editor's Note: We at InsideHoops.com are amused by Walton's antics behind the microphone. Whether accurate or ridiculous, he keeps things interesting. With that said, read on.

As the Dallas Mavericks trounced the Minnesota Timberwolves on ABC March 30, Bill Walton observed that Mavs point guard Steve Nash has "as little physical ability as any player in the NBA."

Wake up and smell the incense, Bill. Nash is fast, quick, elusive and super-coordinated. He's got great hands and a soft touch. He's one of the top penetrators in the game, and even though he's a righthander he can drive and finish with his left hand as well as or better than any natural lefty.

Like everyone else playing point guard in the NBA, Nash has labored long and hard to master the many skills his demanding position requires. But so did tens of thousands of college playmakers who never reached the NBA, let alone started, let alone earned a spot in the All-Star Game. Many of those NBA wannabees had the the requisite smarts and dedication, but they lacked that other indispensable quality possessed by Nash and every other standout NBA playmaker: oodles of talent.

Like most point guards, Nash is considerably shorter and lighter than the average NBA player. Perhaps that explains Walton's confusion: The big redhead appears to believe that tallness and poundage - both of which he has in abundance - are "abilities."

Sorry, Bill. Although your 84 inches and 250 pounds place you in select company, those measurements tell us nothing about your past abilities (in Walton-speak, "the impeccable footwork, the pinpoint passing, the Russell-esque timing as he swats shot after shot") or present liabilities ("the ridiculous proclamations, the nonstop mouth, the annoying habit of expressing everything in groups of three"). If height and weight were "abilities," Chuck Nevitt and Felton Spencer would be NBA legends.

Walton's confusion on this point explains his failure to notice that most of the players in the Target Center March 30 had considerably less "physical ability" than Nash. If we judged the players on how well they moved and how effectively they performed a variety of skills with and without the ball, those with the most ability were named Steve Nash, Dirk Nowitzki, Kevin Garnett, Nick Van Exel and Troy Hudson. The least able were named Evan Eschmeyer, Reggie Slater and Marc Jackson. No one in the latter group remotely resembled anyone in the former.

When I say "ability," I mean "athletic ability." In particular, I mean those dimensions of athleticism that are required to master enough basketball skills to be a solid, well-rounded performer. Those dimensions include reflexes, coordination, lateral quickness, first-step quickness, hand quickness, hand softness, timing, speed, elusiveness, strength, agility, dexterity, ambidexterity, touch, jumping height, jumping quickness, jumping rapidity, and throwing ability (power, accuracy, touch and variety of delivery angles - i.e., qualities possessed by such great one-hand passers as John Stockton and Magic Johnson).

Bearing all that in mind, we can place the remainder of the Mavs and T-Wolves, abilities-wise, somewhere between "Amazing" (Nash) and "Mediocre" (Marc Jackson and friends). To be fair to the latter - and to discourage them from hunting me down and beating me up - these ratings are based on NBA standards of athleticism, not general-population standards. By the latter standard every NBA stiff is a pretty good athlete. (Really, guys. I swear!)

Rating the Basketball-Related Athletic Abilities of Mavs and T-Wolves

Mediocre: Eschmeyer, Jackson, Slater

Below Average: Raef LaFrentz, Shawn Bradley, Antoine Rigaudeau, Walt Williams

Average: Rasho Nesterovic, Anthony Peeler, Kendall Gill, Joe Smith, Gary Trent, Raja Bell, Tariq Abdul-Wahad, Adrian Griffin

Above Average: Eduardo Najera, Gregory Wilks, Avery Johnson, Rod Strickland (latter two in their prime would rate "Nearly Amazing")

Impressive: Van Exel, Hudson, Wally Szczerbiak

Nearly Amazing: Michael Finley

Amazing: Nash, Nowitzki, Garnett

To get a better sense of Nash's talents, imagine he is 7-foot tall. Now imagine you are a general manager, and you've got a choice between Stevie "Stretch" Nash and Bill Walton. Both are in their prime, and Walton has no history of foot problems. Who would you take?

The guy who's a great shooter anywhere inside 27 feet, or the guy who's a fair shooter within 14 feet but useless beyond that point? The guy who shoots 90 percent from the line or the guy who shoots 66 percent? The guy who's a dazzling ballhandler or the guy who's a good ballhandler? The guy who is adequate with his left hand or the guy who is spectacular? The guy with great reflexes for rebounding and shot-blocking, or the other guy with great reflexes for rebounding and shot-blocking?

Nash would match Walton in the redhead's strong suits of passing, rebounding and defending, and Nash would destroy him in all other areas of the game.

Bear in mind that a comparison of NBA centers at their healthiest and best, excluding longevity, would place Walton among the Top 6 in history (along with Shaq, Russell, Wilt, Kareem and Hakeem). Nash, on the other hand, would have a tough time cracking the list of the Top 50 playmakers. Great little men are a dime a dozen; great big men are rare and prized commodities.

The preceding exercise hints at the NBA's dirty little secret: Despite the league's ballyhooed claim that it is home to "the greatest athletes in the world," no other pro league has a higher percentage of mediocre athletes than the NBA. Not the NFL, NHL, MLB or MSL. Even if we broaden our comparison to include the individual sports of tennis, golf, ping pong and bowling, the NBA still comes up short.

The reason is simple: 50 percent of NBA players are 6-8 or taller. In a typical week, how many people that tall do you see? When 200 jobs are reserved for giants drawn from such a tiny segment of the population, you run out of well-rounded great athletes very quickly. After the top 40 or so, you have to settle for guys with serious deficiencies in one or more dimensions of athleticism.

To be fair to our skyscraping friends, the longer the extremities, the less likely those extremities will move quickly and the harder it is to get all four functioning in precise coordination. That's why golf, which requires the arms, hands, legs and feet to work together, is dominated by men and women of average height.

Soccer is played predominately by men standing 5-2 to 6 feet. When you're drawing from 96 percent of the male population, you never run out of great athletes.

If we were to give athletes an overall "Athleticism Score," using a 100-point scale and basing it on the many dimensions of athleticism, the scores in a pro soccer league would likely range from 85 to 100. In the NBA, the range would be 40 to 100. Here's how Nash's Mavs might rate:

Steve Nash 95
Dirk Nowitzki 94
Michael Finley 90
Nick Van Exel 86
Avery Johnson 78 (90 in his prime)
Eduardo Najera 74
Raja Bell 72
Adrian Griffin 70
Tariq Abdul-Wahad 68
Raef LaFrentz 61
Antoine Rigaudeau 58
Walt Williams 57
Shawn Bradley 53
Evan Eschmeyer 46

So what do you say, Bill? How about admitting that, when it comes to physical abilities, Nash is pretty darn special: "the elusiveness, the ambidexterity, the all-around athleticism that leaves me no choice but to eat my ridiculous words."


Dennis Hans is an occasional college professor, an aging lefty playmaker and an unlicensed shooting guru. His essays on pro basketball have appeared online at the Sporting News, Slate, InsideHoops.com and The Black World Today (tbwt.com). His writings on other topics have run in the New York Times, Washington Post and Miami Herald, among other outlets. He can be reached at HANS_D@popmail.firn.edu