There were 29.8 seconds left in Game 3 of the NBA finals when Udonis Haslem made the creaky walk from the Miami Heat bench to the scorer’s table on Wednesday night. By then the Denver Nuggets’ 109-94 victory was well in hand, and many of the Heat faithful had long since made for the exits.
For his part, though, Haslem at least could say he got a shot up, and missed, before ducking into the locker room – the most action he’d seen since the playoffs tipped off a month and a half ago. The only highlight in that garbage-time effort was Haslem blowing past Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to become the oldest to participate in the NBA finals at 42 years and 363 days. And with Heat legend’s retirement looming after the buzzer sounds on this series, well, he damn sure isn’t about to go out like that.
If there’s a single player who embodies Heat Culture – the gritty, never-say-die spirit that is the team’s defining trademark‚ it’s Haslem, the Miami native who marks his 43rd birthday on Friday as the Heat host the Nuggets once more in hopes of drawing even in the series again. Like LeBron James, Haslem has been an NBA fixture since the naughties.
But while the King has bounced around the league and even started alongside Haslem for four of the Heat’s runs to the NBA finals, Haslem follows Dirk Nowitzki and Kobe Bryant on the shortlist of players to log 20 or more seasons with the same franchise. What’s more, he’s a Sunshine State lifer with an on-court legacy that goes back almost 30 years to the two state titles he won at Miami Senior High School. Haslem came into the league the same year Miami drafted Dwyane Wade, the long-retired Heat star who is nearly two years Haslem’s junior. On the same night the older man shuffled through Miami’s remaining set plays, Wade sat courtside in street clothes scrolling through his phone. The roles could have easily been reversed.
Haslem certainly didn’t project as a three rings-winning franchise cornerstone or even a league mainstay. He was passed over for the 2002 draft, most teams deeming the 6ft 6in Florida Gators linchpin too short for a power forward spot. The Atlanta Hawks cut him just before that season tipped, after he had played on their summer league team and stayed on through training camp. The next best offer came from a pro team in France, and he arrived in Chalon-sur-Saône tipping the scales at nearly 300lbs. His hoops dream could’ve ended with that final shot, in the secret birthplace of photography. But Haslem shed 50lbs in eight months while posting 16 points and close to 10 rebounds a game.
Haslem proved just as reliable a contributor after signing with Miami the following year. Almost immediately, he stood out for his dedication, durability and effort. During that first title run with Wade back in 2006, when he flanked Shaquille O’Neal on the Heat frontline, Haslem didn’t just belong in the post; he set the tone, pogoing for rebounds, diving for loose balls and coolly sinking 10-foot jumpers from the baseline.
He did all this while rocking Iverson straight backs, a chin beard and stony glare that wouldn’t look at all out of place at a museum in Giza. There’s an unmistakable nobility in the way Haslem carries himself, and so much heft in that given name … Udonis. All of it cried out for a neater handle than “UD”, the lazy nickname his teammates would bestow on him. The one he gave himself, Django, is so much worse. Hence why I’ve always referred to him as “the Egyptian god of hustle” – a label that’s stuck since the Heat’s ‘06 title run. It’s the only one that pays due respect to his on-court spirit and his central position in Miami Heat mythology.
Coaches and executives talk a good game about “changing the culture” at whatever team just hired them without ever drilling down or following through on specifics. Pat Riley seemed the latest in a long line of snake oil salesmen when he spurned the Knicks to take over the Heat in 1995. Back then Miami was still very much a Dolphins town, and the NBA franchise was barely seven years old. But with Alonzo Mourning, Tim Hardaway and other transplants, Riley reshaped the Heat into a rough and rugged outfit that could square up with any contender in the east. Fittingly, in his winter seasons, Haslem has taken up the mantle as Heat enforcer – going nose-to-nose with Dwight Howard and Tyler Hansbrough when he isn’t checking Jimmy Butler, other teammates, or otherwise bringing the smoke to anyone who wants it.
Last week he even hit out at the raging culture war in his home state, blasting Ron DeSantis’s anti-woke crusade while slamming outsiders for “Florida-shaming” residents who would appear outwardly to be cool with the Republican governor’s politicking. “I’m the father of three, three Black men,” he told the Boston Globe. “I would love for them to learn in school about what the hell is really going on. (...) All I can do is get my ass up and vote.”
Most teams would have a hard time shelling out $2.5m a year to an irascible veteran with gray streaks in his chin beard and bald patches in his afro now. And yet New Orleans and Memphis are two NBA upstarts who might have had longer seasons if only they had an “old head” like Haslem in the fold. On the Heat he remains a critical through-line that connects this season’s motley crew of grudge bearers and chip shoulderers to the brooding rosters that came before. He’s the player who knows all the sets and the counters and who should be where and when. And he’s the player who can go to Riley or head coach Erik Spoelstra if things aren’t working for him. “I’m going to miss his spirit, I’m going to miss his voice, I’m going to miss his intentions,” Spoelstra said after Haslem’s regular-season finale in April, reflecting on life after the one player left who preceded him is gone. “It’s pure.”
We’ve heard plenty over the past two decades about unimpeachable team cultures that set the standard in pro sports. But the Yankees haven’t exactly been world beaters since Derek Jeter retired, the Golden State Warriors dynasty looks to be unraveling, and it turns out the Patriot Way came down to little more than having Tom Brady under center. Meanwhile, Miami have kept on fighting for titles without marquee players, reaching more NBA finals than any other team since 2006 (seven) despite having never winning their division over that span. Haslem, more than anyone, validated the Riley method of selecting players who fit the organization – not vice versa. And there’s little reason to believe the winning tradition won’t continue humming right along after Haslem rides off into the sunset.
Butler rightly gets credit for his on-court imposing on court and outright refusal to lose, and there’s no question the Heat never get this far without him this year. But in the last 20? Miami never becomes a popular landing spot for Butler and Bosh and LeBron – maybe even Messi! – without Haslem establishing South Beach as the place to take your talents. Likely, he’s already made plain to teammates his desire for a happier ending than the one he got in Game 3. And the last thing the Heat want to do is tempt this hoops god’s wrath.