The World's Got Game

By Josh Tyrangiel/Athens

Basketball has been a source of such exaggerated American pride for so long that it was hard not to admire Larry Brown's humility last week when it all sank in a sea of Puerto Rican flags. After the U.S. men's team lost to its little island cousin by an irrefutable 19 points, becoming the first Olympic squad to drop a game since the NBA started packing the team with stars in 1992, coach Brown said, "We got beat in every area. Every area." His mood did not improve following a clumsy 6-point victory over Euro doormat--but home favorite--Greece, and he was hardly buoyant after a 10-point win over Australia: "We've got athletes. They've got basketball players. They've got kids that are truly committed to being part of a team."

Brown, 63, delivered his lines in a voice worn thin from decades of screaming at referees, but he was not angry. Instead he sounded amazed and resigned--like a man who has seen Vesuvius blow its top and knows that in a few moments an empire will be covered in dust. Brown's mood didn't improve after Saturday's 4-point loss to Lithuania, although, thanks to a Greek victory over Angola, his team backed into the medal round. But 12 years after the original Dream Team pulled off the improbable trick of charming its opponents while destroying them by an average of 43.8 points, Brown's U.S. squad is a long shot for gold and has become, unfairly, a fashionable symbol of American hubris. "For the record," says guard Dwayne Wade, "we know we're not the Dream Team."

For a brief moment, it looked as though Athens would be the resting place for numerous chunks of American pride. Venus Williams and Andy Roddick got bounced in tennis, the gymnasts weren't nearly as sparkling as the glitter in their hair, and Michael Phelps looked merely human. Before long, though, the U.S. was sitting in its customary place atop the medal standings, with golds in everything from double trap shooting to road cycling to gymnastics; the swim team alone took 28 medals. While flip turns and double Arabians are cute in a quadrennial sort of way, they do not display the full range of what Americans consider athleticism, nor do they make easy metaphors for national character. That's what home runs and slam dunks are for, and with the baseball team not even qualifying for these Games, the weight of American ego fell on a basketball team that is not very good.

The shortcomings begin with inexperience and extend to basic skills. "They run and jump better than anybody here," said Australian star Shane Heal. "But they're not very good at shooting or passing." After four games the U.S. was shooting just 22% from behind the 3-point arc (their opponents shot 47%), and against Australia the Americans missed 15 outside shots in a row--during warm-ups. The U.S. has the world's best inside player in the heroically shy San Antonio Spurs star Tim Duncan, but epochs go by without his touching the ball near the rim, where he is almost unstoppable.

It's no secret that the other players on the floor are not the ones Brown wanted. The original 2004 roster included such fundamentally gifted veterans as Jason Kidd, Kevin Garnett, Karl Malone, Ray Allen and Kobe Bryant, but each backed out, with excuses that varied in believability from a rape trial to security concerns to a hastily scheduled wedding. Instinctively, it seems that a team comprising Duncan, Allen Iverson and three lucky fans should be able to hang with Puerto Rico, but not only have other nations got significantly better at basketball--"There are no more blowouts to be had," says U.S.A. Basketball vice president Stu Jackson--they also believe in quaint traditions like, say, practice. "That's the big thing," says Brown. "Puerto Rico has been practicing for three months, twice a day. Other teams have played together for years. You just can't come together for a few weeks and fight for a gold medal anymore. Everybody else is too good."

In the meantime, the U.S. squad is getting jeered not only by its coaches and fans but also by a global audience formerly in thrall to its every NBA-marketed leap. The team is booed lustfully whenever it takes the floor or shows the faintest hint of exuberance--Greek fans chanted "Puer-to Ri-co"--and, yes, politics has a lot to do with it. The rest of the world understands metaphor too.

What has been overlooked is that through its struggles, this batch of NBA players may be the first to actually get the point of the Olympics. Not only have they taken the slights hurled at them with impressive grace and displayed the proper pride in representing their country, but they have been able to empathize with their opponents without being disloyal. "A lot of people don't understand that for these guys we're playing against, a win versus the U.S.A. would be one of the greatest things that ever happened to them," says Wade. "It's not like I'm rooting for them, but it's interesting to understand their passion. In order to win, we have to come out every night and try to match that. I won't lie. It's very hard to do." It would be a lot easier if they could shoot.