It s a pity that there is no championship in the Suns history. There are many superstar combinations in the history of the team.

On May 12, the Phoenix Suns, as one of the most spectacular teams in NBA history, always missed the championship trophy. This regret is rare in the league. From the running and bomb whirlwind led by Westfal in the 1970s, to the "seven-second offense" between Barkley and KJ in the 1990s, to the smooth "seven-second or less" system in the Nash era, to the current super three giants composed of Durant, Booker and Bill, the Suns have always been performing the most gorgeous basketball philosophy, but they always fall from the altar when they are one step away from their peak.

Looking back at the moment when team history is closest to glory, the Nash era from 2004 to 2007 is a tragic epic. When Steve Nash returned to Phoenix with two MVP trophys, his iron triangle with "Little Overlords" Stodmeier and Marion completely overturned traditional basketball cognition. In the 2005 Western Conference Finals against the Spurs, Nash was knocked out of the field by Horry at the last moment of G5, becoming a cruel footnote to the turning point of fate. At that time, the Suns' 2-0 lead was finally reversed, and Nash watched his opponent win the championship with his 11-point brow bone wound. This series exposed the fatal weakness of Suns aesthetic basketball: when the playoffs turned into muscle strangle battles, the gorgeous offense lacking defensive hardness was like a mirage in the desert. Coach D'Antoni's "seven-second offensive" system's ultimate squeeze on players' physical fitness has made Nash and Stan always have visible fatigue at critical moments, and this kind of exhaustive style of play is unsustainable in the long playoff journey.

O's joining in the 2007-08 season was once regarded as the last puzzle. The pick-and-roll combination of the 33-year-old "Sharks" and Nash did create a shocking performance of 21 consecutive victories, but age and injuries made the pair a tragic symbol in the playoffs. When the Spurs met again in the Western Conference Finals, O'Neal's slow movement speed became a defensive loophole, and the Suns' proud rhythm was completely dragged down. The strategic mistakes of management in building a lineup are gradually emerging: over-reliance on veterans' immediate combat power and ignoring the training of young defensive players, resulting in the team's inability to establish a championship gene that balances offense and defense.

Time is coming to 2021, and the combination of Booker and Paul has allowed the Suns to enter the finals again after 28 years. Phoenix seemed to finally touch the outline of the O'Brien Cup when leading the Bucks 2-0. But Antetokounmpo's violent performance averaged 35.2 points per game tore the Suns' inside line, and Ayton's foul crisis exposed the stubborn problem of insufficient lineup depth. What is even more sad is that when Paul missed key games due to the COVID-19 agreement, the team lacked real tactical options - this over-reliance on a single star is just like a replica of the Nash era.

The new three giants composed of Durant, Booker and Bill are now seemingly a pile of historical offensive firepower, but in fact they are hidden dangers. Durant, 35, needs a lot of mid-range singles to maintain efficiency, Bill's attendance rate in the past three years is less than 60%, and Booker is forced to undertake too many organizational tasks. Compared with the mobility of the Celtics five-in-one lineup or the multi-point bloom of the Nuggets Jokic system, the Suns' superstar basketball is becoming more classical in the contemporary NBA. The defensive system that Coach Vogel is trying to build is destined to be difficult to obtain high-quality puzzles when the Big Three occupy 120 million cap space.

Looking at the history of the Suns, its tragedy comes precisely from its ultimate pursuit of basketball aesthetics. From Colangelo to Savor, past managers have been obsessed with collecting offensive geniuses, but have never been able to establish a championship-level defensive culture. When the Spurs use Duncan as the defensive cornerstone to build a dynasty and the Warriors combine the pass-cut system with top defense, the Suns always struggle in the cycle of "a breath away". Perhaps as Nash said when he retired: "We changed basketball, but the championship needs you to change yourself." The basketball philosophy of this desert city will always bloom the most brilliant flower of regret in the collision of idealism and the iron wall of reality.