Not merely swept out of the playoffs by the Phoenix Suns last season, the San Antonio Spurs were made to look old and, quite frankly, done.

So how is it that a Spurs team whose only major free-agent signing (Tiago Splitter) has rarely seen the court, and whose only first-round draft pick (James Anderson) has been injured most of the season, been able to rush out to an NBA-best 22-3 record playing largely the same players who were written off over the summer?

While the Miami Heat and the New York Knicks grabbed most of the headlines for their roster moves, in the Western Conference the acquisition of the summer has been the Spurs quietly adding an All-Star point guard to the solid mix of Tim Duncan and Manu Ginobili.

Tony Parker, the All-Star version, is a major upgrade over the plantar fasciitis model that hobbled through most of last season, and it makes the Spurs a completely different team. If Duncan is the solid foundation of the team, and Ginobili its best and most valuable player, Parker is the catalyst.

With the Spurs struggling out of the gate on the wrong end of a back-to-back in Denver, it was Parker who led them back into the contest with an 18-point, seven-assist first half, zipping through a scrambling defense for floaters and layups while creating open looks and driving lanes for his teammates. Keeping the team afloat until Ginobili could win it.

Seemingly left behind in this burgeoning great point guard era during his injured season, Parker is often the forgotten man in the Paul/Rondo/Rose/Williams debate. That's not to say the 2007 Finals MVP is an equal or superior to Chris Paul, but he certainly merits being discussed among his elite peers.

Often critiqued for his "cardinal sin" of not being a traditional "pure" point guard, Parker is chastised by critics for a perceived inability to make his teammates better -- most likely for his historically singular pursuit of efficient scoring.

But just because he lacks the gaudy assist totals does not mean he doesn't raise his teammates' games.

While Ginobili is playing close to MVP levels this season, recognize that it is a healthy Parker relieving him of the burden (and wear and tear) of initiating the offense. Without Parker, Ginobili would have a difficult time sustaining his production for a full season.

Now starting next to Parker full-time, Ginobili is averaging a career high in minutes, points and 3-point attempts. His play is just as dominant as it was near the end of last season, but because defenses can no longer load up on him as the sole playmaker, the extended burn never seems as taxing as when he carried the Spurs through last spring.

And as much as Richard Jefferson struggled last season, it must be pointed out that he was completely miscast as a scorer. Between Jefferson and George Hill, the Spurs have two wings who can put up strong scoring numbers but are more finishers than scorers.

Each is fantastic at capitalizing on driving lanes, but poor at creating them for themselves. Therein lies the true value of Parker. While the Spurs lack the explosive athletes and dynamic scorers of other teams, they have a number of players smart enough to exploit advantages.

So while he might not ever be the do-it-all point guard Paul or Rondo is, by breaking down a defense with his initial penetration Parker offers his teammates everything they need: an opportunity to exploit a scrambling defense and another run at a championship.

Jesse Blanchard's work can be found at 48minutesofhell.com

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Duncan

Asked before the season how much he had left in the tank, Tim Duncan responded that he was willing to go until the wheels fall off.

And while age and decline dictate that moment will come sooner rather than later, given his stature it was expected that there would be some nights of rekindled dominance left. Still, those nights weren't supposed to be on the wrong end of a back-to-back, coming off a masterful seven-block defensive performance against the Milwaukee Bucks.

But there Duncan was in a winning effort Thursday night in Denver, putting up a stat line (28 points, 16 rebounds, four blocks, four assists) that would do any of his previous NBA Finals performances proud.

The San Antonio Spurs have been one of the best stories of the season so far, yet much of the success has been attributed more to Duncan getting out of the way of his talented backcourt than carrying the team on his shoulders. It's a role that would have been incomprehensible just three years ago, but not one Duncan is completely unfamiliar with. After all, he was once on the other end of the same story.

Drafted 10 years after David Robinson, Duncan now finds himself in a transition similar to the one once undertaken by his now-retired fellow twin tower. Still the anchor of a defense for an elite team, Duncan's role in the offense has increasingly diminished. Now, looking back 10 years, his numbers are eerily similar to Robinson's at the same point in their careers (Duncan 2010-11, Robinson 2000-01):

For Robinson, it was the middle of a steady descent into retirement, the last of his All-NBA honors (third team that year), and final All-Star appearance. Two years later, the Admiral put up eight points and eight rebounds per night despite back problems on a farewell tour that culminated in an NBA championship.

Duncan has vowed to keep playing until the wheels fall off, but a reasonably similar two- to three-year window is fair enough to expect with this season being the most important of what's left. This fact is not meant to temper the enthusiasm of a great start, but as a reminder to enjoy it while we can .

Interestingly, it is in these fleeting moments that we might come to know Tim Duncan best. That the Spurs' longtime franchise player finally becomes relatable and personally interesting. For years, the general public has known so little of Duncan's personality aside from a couple of quirks that could just as easily have been made up by a public relations staff.

For years, Duncan has been called an emotionless robot. But he's not a robot; his parts are breaking down and can't be replaced. It's his efforts and struggles against his own mortality to remain near his peak to which we can finally relate.

So it is, on a cold night in Denver, with Ginobili likely getting all the end-of-the-game attention, that Duncan reminds us he's not ready to get out of the way just yet. And maybe we shouldn't be so quick to force him into retirement.