No Cheers to You, Mister Robinson

So far, Phil Jackson is right.

The San Antonio Spurs are a team with an asterisk.

Its name is David Robinson.

The guys with the NBA’s best regular-season record stagger into Staples Center tonight dragging along their underachieving center like a bum leg.

They call him the Admiral. But so far, the Lakers are swabbing the decks with him.

“We’re down two games to none, and David hasn’t played very well,” said the Spurs’ Steve Kerr, describing these Western Conference finals in 15 words or fewer.

There has been much talk that the Spurs will be much better tonight because injured guard Derek Anderson will finally play.

Won’t mean a thing if he doesn’t bring along his missing center.

How bad has it been? When asked Thursday if he thought a different David Robinson would show up for one last gasp, Robert Horry

could only smile.

“I hope not.”

None of this would be particularly newsworthy--heck, Danny Ferry and Terry Porter aren’t exactly remembering the Alamo either--except for the paradox that has pulled Robinson through his career like a belching tugboat.

You know it. Every rim rat in town knows it.

Great guy, soft player.

A hero in the community, a wimp in the paint.

“It’s a natural stereotype,” Kerr said. “He’s such a nice guy, people assume he’s not tough, not competitive. And, of course, that’s not true.”

It’s not?

This series has been Robinson’s chance, once and for all, to prove that.

Sure, two years ago he won an NBA title, but in a shortened season, against some New York runts, with teammate Tim Duncan stealing the show.

Sure, he has been the league’s most valuable player, and completely turned around a failing Spur franchise, but he has struggled in big games against the likes of Hakeem Olajuwon and Shaquille O’Neal.

At 35, this was perhaps his chance to silence everybody. Win a tough battle with tinselled O’Neal. Lead his economy-built Spurs to a series win--and probably an NBA title--against the limousine Lakers.

The story line was so spicy, the good folks of San Antonio took it one boot-length further, turning it into a battle of Robinson the Good versus O’Neal the Evil.

OK, so nobody checked out O’Neal’s long list of community service and charity projects, but you get the picture.

In front of his screaming, adoring fans, Robinson took the Alamodome floor Saturday absent only the halo. In the first three minutes of the series, he had two baskets, a rebound, and a blocked shot.

And then, well, every rim rat in town could have guessed what would happen next.

Brilliant man. Bashful center.

Robinson has since played basketball the way a pitcher hits, ducking and diving and going one for eight.

Of eight possible quarters, he has excelled in one.

In that first quarter of the first game, he scored six points. In the seven quarters since then, he has scored a total of 15.

“I think David could be more aggressive,” Spur Coach Gregg Popovich said. “He’s turned down some opportunities he’s had, he’s relied on Tim too much.”

That first game, he complained that Popovich wasn’t playing him enough. But when Popovich tried to play him more the second night, he picked up two third-quarter fouls within one second of each other.

Not quite Annapolis-type stuff. Robinson moved to one side of the court to complain to the officials about the first foul, leaving him out of position on the ensuing in-bounds play, leading to the next foul.

After two games, he is shooting 36%, has fewer defensive rebounds than Kobe Bryant, has been to the foul line fewer times than Horry, and has played only 57 of 96 possible minutes.

Which has allowed Bryant to drive, and O’Neal to plow, and the Lakers to dominate.

Twin Towers? Try one lonely skyscraper that has suddenly found itself next to an aging, deteriorating parking garage.

“I know that having him out there, it’s a totally different game,” Duncan said of Robinson. “We hope to get some more from him.”

He hopes. Popovich hopes. Every south Texas sagebrush hopes.

If the speeding Lakers are to be stopped, it must be tonight, and it must be Robinson who throws himself in front of the train.

“This is where you dig down,” Robinson said Thursday before practice here, digging his hands into his pocket.

The problem with confronting Robinson on his failings is, of course, that he is genuinely a good guy. He smiles and looks you in the eye. He is polite to the point of excusing himself when he coughs.

“You guys always point out my weaknesses, and maybe some of them are valid,” he said to several reporters. “I have to look at everything.”

Valid? Us?

“I’m harder on myself than y’all are,” he said. “I know what I have to do. In this situation, any leader has to put it on themselves.”

You’re putting it on yourself?

“I’m a big boy, I can take it,” he said. “I get paid a lot of money to come out here.”

He wants to earn his money?

Stick around Robinson long enough and you want to hug him.

A great characteristic in real life. A lousy one in the playoffs.

“When the Spurs win, it’s always just, the Spurs win,” Popovich said. “But when the Spurs lose, everybody gets on David. That’s something that’s misplaced oftentimes.”

Maybe oftentimes. But not this time.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

Robinson vs. O’Neal

How the Spurs’ David Robinson has fared against the Lakers’ Shaquille O’Neal in Western Conference finals:

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Robinson O’Neal Minutes 28.5 45 Points 10.5 23.5 Field Goals 9-25 19-43 Free Throws 3-4 9-14 Rebounds 10.0 12.5 Off. Rebounds 3.0 4.0 Assists 1.0 3.0

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