
On a recent Friday morning that could pass for any other morning, Tony Parker is hard at work, lofting up practice jumpers.
Some go in. Some skip off the rim. Parker's expression never changes: Eyes focused, tongue wagging from the left side of his mouth, a portrait in concentration. Here on the Spurs' practice court, the benefit isn't in the outcome. It is in the action.
"Repetition, repetition, repetition," Parker said. "That's the key."
Catch, shoot, repeat. This has been Parker's routine for the past four years.
His jump shot, he says, "is always a work in progress."
In his eighth season since entering the league as little more than a French layup machine, Parker has built up an accompanying mid-range game that makes him, in the words of one rival coach, "almost impossible to guard."
The proof is in the numbers. Parker, 26, has just completed his finest NBA season, setting career marks in scoring (22 points per game) and assists (6.9 per game) while shooting 50.6 percent from the field.
He stands as Exhibit 1A of how the Spurs were able to survive nagging injuries to Tim Duncan and a season-ending one to Manu Ginobili to claim primacy in the NBA's most rugged division.
"It's been his best year," Spurs coach Gregg Popovich said of his All-Star point guard. "He's carried us."
Next up: The playoffs, where Parker's ability to outmaneuver Dallas counterpart Jason Kidd will go a long way toward determining the Spurs' first-round fate.
The series, which opens Saturday at the AT&T Center, will mark Parker's first postseason meeting with Kidd since the 2003 Finals. Though the Spurs beat New Jersey in six games that year, the series did not go so well for Parker. That offseason, the Spurs tried to replace him - with Kidd.
That Parker, however, is not this Parker.
His ascent from teenage prodigy to arguably the planet's best point guard not named Chris Paul began four summers ago.
In June of 2005, days after winning his second NBA title, Parker was summoned to Popovich's office for the traditional season-ending exit meeting. He left with explicit marching orders.
"He said for me to get to the next level, I had to work on my jump shot," Parker said.
Blessed with superhuman quickness, Parker had always been a one-trick pony. Although he was awfully good at that trick - zip to the basket, shoot a layup - teams had begun to back off him and force him to shoot jumpers.
That presented a problem. As a jump shooter, Parker couldn't throw a croissant in the Seine.
"You could just give him jump shots," said New Orleans coach Byron Scott, who coached the Nets in the 2003 Finals. "Everybody in the league respects his quickness. You wanted him to shoot jump shots from 18 feet out."
Parker's career arc changed in the summer of 2005, when the Spurs lured 44-year-old assistant Chip Engelland from Denver.
Engelland had gained a league-wide reputation as a sort of shooting shaman, in part due to his work with Grant Hill and former Spurs sharpshooter Steve Kerr. Parker would be his latest project.
"He wanted to get better," Engelland said. "That was step 1."
In the mission to remake Parker's shooting stroke, the pair drew inspiration from an unlikely source.
Parker had read how Tiger Woods, at the top of his game, had decided to break down and rebuild his golf swing. Parker could relate.
"If it's good enough for Tiger," Parker said, "it's good enough for me."
The first season after working with Engelland, Parker averaged 18.9 points and made his first All-Star team. In three of the past four seasons, Parker shot better than 50 percent.
"His experience has caught up to his technique," said Engelland, who still oversees most of Parker's shooting sessions. "It carries over now, from the practice tee to the games."
In the past four seasons, Parker has made three All-Star teams and earned one Finals MVP trophy. In the weeks to come, he is likely to earn his first All-NBA mention.
He has little left to prove.
And yet, the practice jumpers keep going up. Some go in. Some go out. Just being there, working on a work in constant progress, is what counts.
"Tony wants to be great," Engelland said. "He doesn't know what his limits are."