Originally published in SLAM 91
You know about the threes. The threes are why a 34-year-old dude who hasn’t averaged double-digits since ’96 is still a must-have accessory for any team with championship aspirations. The threes are why he has the rep and the nickname and an MJ-erasing place in the Finals record books. But then, every once in a while, Robert Horry reminds us that he’s about more than just threes.
He’s 6-10. A loooooong 6-10. You know that, right? His rebounding and shot-blocking numbers have never been all that impressive, but don’t think his length has been wasted. It’s just…selective.
In all aspects of his game, Bob picks his spots.
So it was in Game 5. Until the end of the third quarter, Big Shot Bob had been the Big Nothing, going 0 for 4 on graceless layups and ill-advised hooks, adding three fouls and a couple turnovers for good measure. And then: a three just before the quarter buzzer, another at the start of the fourth, and another and another and, eventually, one more in overtime to win the damn game. But before that last one, with the Spurs down 4 and 1:25 to go in OT, a three wasn’t on the menu. The offer was a slice of paint, unconvincingly occupied by Rip Hamilton. Horry saw it. No thought, just action. Stretch, reach…and one. Three-point play. Except he missed the free throw. Figures. With Bob, the threes are just too easy.
At 0:52 in the video below…
