I feel your pain, Phoenix fans. This is not a sweet night. My advice for an elimination night: eat. Eat a lot. It helps somehow, and you can still legally operate a motor vehicle afterwards. So, if you're a morose Suns fan, off you go to make that cheese toastie or whatever. You should go. Now. (You don't want to read the next paragraph.)

Nobody wants to hear this now, but I honestly don't believe David Stern affected this series all that much. I thought San Antonio was the better team almost the whole way through. Phoenix hung in there with a series of magnificent mini-miracles -- the exact things that make me love to watch this team. They made plays.

But they never cranked up their big shiny points machine. It was never systematic for the Suns at either end of the floor. It always felt like Mike D'Antoni was applying one strategy band aid after another. (Also, I might be the only one who thinks this, but I sincerely believe that San Antonio would have won a fairly called Game 4. This could have ended in five.)

If I ran the Suns, I'd think long and hard about spending one of Nash's few remaining good years fighting back to this same series, with the same roster, next year. I fear the same thing would happen again.

Assorted thoughts from watching the game:

• I mourn the two Game 7s we lost tonight. Not nearly enough buzzer beaters and Game 7s in this year's playoffs. I want Game 7s in every series that's left.
  
• The Game 6 victory shuts the door on at least one conspiracy theory I have heard in recent days: that the league set up the whole suspension controversy just to get us to a super highly rated weekend Game 7 grudge match.
• Jeff Van Gundy has intricate knowledge of basketball. To him a "Detlef Schrempf" is a move. And he argued nicely against taking a guy out with two fouls: "What's the difference between getting the third foul in the last :33 of the second quarter, or the first :33 of the third quarter?"
• My Gut: Shawn Marion has played his last game in purple and orange. The finances would seem to dictate that it's unlikely both Marion and Amare Stoudemire will stay, and Stoudemire is showing contined improvement. On a lot of plays he's a true hombre. And I love how he reacts to craziness from the referees. All playoffs long, he has just walked away. The team has never trusted Marion to bring maximum effort at all times, and trust is the foundation of team. (Marion can play for the Blazers, though. It's not like I don't recognize his magnificence. But if you have to choose between him and Stoudemire ...)
• There are a lot of fouls called on players defending against the drive. What occurs to me more and more is that it's smart to do the whole "draw the charge" flop onto the butt, and only in part because you might draw the charge. A bigger reason is that if your hands are up, and you're jumping, and there's contact, you have NO chance of getting the call, and it's likely a foul on you.
• Tonight Steve Nash drove right to the rim, many times, to no avail. He was within a few feet of the cup, but couldn't turn it into an easy scoring opportunity for him or anyone else. That's a tribute to San Antonio's entire team, who all play hard and defend very well.
• Mike D'Antoni really does not exude leadership in big moments. That screaming is appropriate if a car is parked on your foot, and maybe if your pants are on fire. I love the guy, but it's nuts after a measly iffy call. I could put a camera on him, and a camera on Gregg Popovich, and show you the two tapes. Anyone who watched both tapes would know that Popovich's team was better prepared to win. Winning is, on some level, an attitude -- a confidence, a poise. Phoenix gets that attitude from Nash more than D'Antoni.
• Anyone who hates how Bruce Bowen plays? You hate Raja Bell too. They have trained together, and are two of the most similar players in the NBA, in terms of walking that grab/poke/slap/flop line with the referees.
• People always want the NBA to eliminate traveling. Anyone notice that they are trying? They're calling it a lot more, especially as players initiate their move.
• There's a great Tim Duncan story from his college days. Can't remember where I heard it. But Duncan and his Wake Forest teammate Randolph Childress were talking to coach Dave Odom. Childress was looking at the ground. Duncan reached out, touched his finger to his teammate's chin, and lifted. I asked Duncan, years later, why he did that: to admonish Childress for not looking at his coach, or to lift his teammate's spirit? Duncan seemed not able to even understand the first idea. Of course it was to help his teammate out. If we knew everything there was to know about Tim Duncan, I suspect he'd be respected as one of the great teammates in the NBA. He infuses his team with confidence in so many ways. Even in his post-game press conference, he talks about how great his opponents Steve Nash, his teammate Bruce Bowen, and his opponents the Utah Jazz are.
• Spurs in 7 against Utah.
• UPDATE: Temper your urge to declare the playoffs over, the Western Conference Finals boring, or the NBA a joke. I know you may have this or that beef with this or that league official. But it's about the players. They are the ones killing themselves. The players who are left standing -- the San Antonio Spurs and Utah Jazz -- have worked like dogs to get this far, and play amazing basketball. They would appreciate your respect. (And don't tell me it's all about the money. The players who do it just for the money don't typically make it this far, and players barely get paid extra for all the work of the playoffs.) For years, these players have been eating right, getting stronger, learning to trust teammates, refining plays, perfecting their release, becoming a team, doing anything imaginable to make themselves the best teams in the NBA -- just to get here and enjoy the respect of people like you and me. You insult their effort if you do anything but celebrate it. This is going to be a fantastic series between two teams that very much deserve to be here.