This was what the lords of Bulldom had been waiting for, what anybody who had any sort of emotional or financial interest in Toni Kukoc had waited for since he arrived from Europe five years ago.
How do you say “on fire” in Croatian?
In Game 5 of the NBA Finals, Kukoc was skeet shooting, knocking down shot after shot amost effortlessly, the clay Jazz falling all around him. Skeet shooting? Sweet shooting was more like it. He started inside early, using back cuts to surprise Utah with layups. Then he went outside, killing the Jazz long distance.
There had been moments like this in the past, when Kukoc had found his rhythm, but nothing like this, not in this big a moment, not with so many people watching. When it was long over, the criticism would bore in on Scottie Pippen and Michael Jordan for not getting Kukoc the ball. Imagine that: Jordan and Pippen getting ripped, Kukoc getting sympathy. That’s how strange it all was.
During crunch time, he launched an ugly-looking three-point attempt that banged off the backboard, and you could almost hear the groans about Kukoc’s choking when it mattered. Typical Toni. But then he sent up this sweet, high-arcing, net-snapping three that brought the Bulls to within 82-81 with 5.5 seconds left. Take that, it seemed to say.
The Bulls lost that game, as anyone in Chicago with a television set and a pulse knows. But it was a moment that might have finally brought some appreciation of Kukoc’s game to a city and a country that never has been sure what to make of a shooting guard in a 6-foot-11-inch body. He finished 11 of 13 from the field, hitting 4 of 6 three-pointers and scoring 30 points.
That was the game, and this was the year, when perhaps Kukoc finally found acceptance, when he finally justified General Manager Jerry Krause’s faith in him. Kukoc had more to do with this championship than the other two he has taken part in the last three years. The rings are the same in terms of significance, but this one might shine a little more.
This time, Kukoc was a starter when it mattered during the playoffs, and though he sometimes continued his maddening disappearing act, he was a much bigger contributor than he’d been in the past. Coach Phil Jackson, who has been harder on Kukoc than on almost any other Bull, started him in 52 games this season, mostly because of a foot injury to Pippen early in the year.
In the playoffs, he turned to Kukoc for more flattering reasons: He believed Kukoc could do the job. This might have caused some frustration for Dennis Rodman, who was left to come off the bench, but it gave the Bulls much more of an offensive threat in the lineup.
Jackson’s decision made it official: After five long years with the Bulls, Kukoc had arrived. The Bulls accepted him, warts and all.
That wasn’t easy, for a lot of reasons. Not the least of which was that Kukoc had come to Chicago in 1993 after a protracted courtship by Krause, whose relationship with Jackson, Pippen and Jordan is almost non-existent. That automatically put Kukoc in a difficult situation, the teacher’s pet left alone with the rest of the class.
Another problem was Kukoc. He had an NBA body but a European game. He had the sweetest shot imaginable but seemed unwilling to go inside. He was so soft on defense that, at times, whatever he offered offensively wasn’t enough. Jackson was grudging in his respect.
Kukoc was a star long before he came to the Bulls, and no matter how difficult his situation was under Jackson, you could almost see a shrug on his shoulders even when there wasn’t one there. It said: I know I’m good, even if they don’t see it.
Asked last week whether he was better this year, he shrugged again. He wasn’t, but his playing time was, he said.
“The minutes have been more consistent, and that’s the key to why I’ve played better,” he said. “I’ve never thought of going to Phil and saying, `Hey, if you give me more minutes, I can give you more.’ I think he knows that.”
They have evolved, Kukoc and Jackson, to the point where they understand each other now. Kukoc sees that Jackson simply wants him to be better. Jackson sees that Kukoc isn’t merely Krause’s gift to the world. The guy can play.
“It’s good to be playing more,” Kukoc said. “It means there’s more trust between Coach and my game.”
Even though Kukoc’s playing time increased over last season, he said he feels the same about each of the championships. He always felt a part of the successes of the past, and just because someone couldn’t figure out how to use him, he said, that can’t take away from the accomplishments.
“I’ve played more. That’s a plus,” he said. “I had a great time this year, and every time we won a championship, it was a great thing. There’s nothing to get me to feel better than previous years, though I am playing more and playing better.”
THE POSSIBILITIES . . .
This one goes in the “duh” file.
Of course it was Game 5 of the NBA Finals, when the Jazz couldn’t figure out how to stop Kukoc. There is a theory about Kukoc that says that when he hits his first shot, he usually has a good game. He made his first shot in Game 5. And his second. And his third. And his fourth. And . . .
And he just kept going. He had 13 of the Bulls’ first 14 points. He single-handedly kept them in the game. How important was he? If you take away his 11-of-13 shooting, the Bulls shot 29 percent.
Kukoc has had other big games before–Game 7 against Indiana in the conference finals comes to mind–but this one showed all of his possibilities.
