Who still loves this game?
07/25/2002
Codding Home / Sports Channel / Bullz-Eye Home
I used to be a huge NBA fan. Magic, Michael, Larry, Dominique. Mark Price, Kevin McHale, Isiah Thomas, Spud Webb.
And, of course, Kurt Rambis and Mark Eaton.
The games were exciting, the players were respected and respectful, the rivalries were genuine and, believe it or not, teams from the Eastern Conference were actually talented.
I know, that last one's hard to believe, but I swear it's the truth.
Yes, in its heyday the NBA was a great source of entertainment, with true dynasties like the Lakers and Celtics seemingly butting heads in the NBA Finals on an annual basis. Magic vs. Bird. Kareem vs. "The Chief." Pat Riley's slicked 'do vs. Red Auerbach's perpetual cigar. Classic.
Then there were the Pistons, the "Bad Boys." NBA champs in both 1989 and 1990 behind Thomas, Joe Dumars, Bill Laimbeer, Vinnie "Microwave" Johnson and a tame Dennis Rodman.
Michael, Scottie, Phil. And Bill Cartwright.
Clyde and Hakeem and Mario Elie and some guy named Chucky Brown.
Dr. J.
Drazen Petrovic.
Clark Kellogg.
Moses Malone.
Tom Chambers.
Alex English.
Sarunas Marciulionis.
Tell me those names don't bring back memories. Good memories.
Of course, still being relatively young I never saw guys like Wilt Chamberlain, John Havliceck, Oscar Robertson, Bill Russell, Jerry West and Bob Cousy play the game, but I've seen the highlights and I'm sorry I missed out on that era.
Because now I'm left with Allen Iverson and Glenn Robinson and Vin Baker and two Williamses, Jason and Jayson.
In case you're wondering, that's not a good thing. I used to be an NBA fan, but now I'm merely a casual hardwood observer, and while I haven't been able to pinpoint exactly when and why the NBA game lost most of its luster, I've got my theories.
Of course, whenever someone tries to figure out the reasons behind the collapse of the NBA's reputation, the knee-jerk answer is always centered around Michael Jordan's retirement. Let's face it, if he isn't the best player to ever lace up a pair of high-tops, MJ certainly is one of the absolute greatest figures in the history of the sport, making him the logical target in any examination.
But I don't buy it, not entirely anyway.
I mean, Jordan, coming back from his latest semi-retirement, played in 53 games last year and actually had the Wizards in playoff contention for much of the season, and while his return without question initially sparked some fresh interest from fans who'd nearly abandoned the game, myself included, by the end of the year it seemed many of those retread fans had grown tired of all the MJ hype.
Again, myself included.
But I don't completely discount Jordan's impact on fan interest. Sure, the mention of his name alone perks ears nationwide, and the NBA was certainly better off with him in the league as a player rather than a front-office exec. I agree with all that. At the same time, though, I don't think the game suddenly became less appealing to thousands of fans the moment he announced his retirement. If that were the case, then all those fans who bolted after the 1998 season would've theoretically come back last year.
But that didn't happen, although after watching TV ratings and attendance figures plummet over the past several seasons, the NBA saw both numbers stabilize somewhat during the 2001-02 campaign, thanks in large part to Jordan's comeback. Jordan's return couldn't completely erase the supposed damage that his departure caused in the first place, which suggests that while we missed MJ's wagging tongue and dramatic game-winners, we missed even more the way the game was played when Michael and Scottie were winning their six rings in Chicago.
We missed Magic's flair and Bird's clutch shots. We missed the game that seemed more team- oriented. We missed the players who, for the most part, understood and cared about their relationship with us, the fans. We could connect with those players because they played the game the way it was meant to be played.
But today, instead of basketball we see a slightly more civilized version of a typical pick-up, street-ball game on the court. One-on-one match-ups, dunk after dunk after rim-rocking dunk. Unnecessary behind-the-back passes and, of course, chest bumps and roof-raising after every bucket. Who needs that crap?
Even more important, who wants to see that? Judging by the numbers, not a whole lot of people, unless you're 12 years old. That seems to be the target audience that David Stern is trying to reach, and therefore the commercials and the merchandise and now, thanks to the high school invasion during the annual draft, even the players themselves are a little hipper, a little cooler, more flamboyant and flashy, which all is geared toward making the game more attractive to the teenaged, Playstation-oriented crowd.
Unfortunately, we're the ones who pay the admission prices -- when was the last time you saw an 11 year old fork over 60 bucks for a ticket? But because this isn't really our game anymore, we don't pay nearly as often as we used to.
After all, Allen Iverson's an exciting player, but why should I spend all that money to watch a guy with a growing criminal record play basketball? How about Glenn Robinson and Ron Artest? When did it suddenly become okay to slap women around and threaten their lives?
Was that included in the collective bargaining agreement after the lockout in 1999? Must've missed that.
The 21st Century NBA seems to be built upon a bunch of guys, young and old, who don't know how to control themselves, how to act responsibly. And while I'm certainly not suggesting that the league was filled with perfect gentlemen in the 1960s, '70s, '80s and '90s, doesn't it seem like players' names are showing up in police reports much more frequently than they ever have in the past? Maybe, as some suggest, that's just because incidents like Iverson's late-night pursuit of his wayward wife weren't reported back then as openly as they are now. I can live with that, but that still doesn't change the fact that all of this senseless off-court activity has really tarnished the game's reputation.
On the court, though, things aren't much better. Most players seem to care more about egos than victories, and I swear the majority of the guys in the league today have never even seen a dictionary, much less flipped through one -- just listen to their post-game interviews. And how about that Eastern Conference, huh? Wow. How much excitement can a professional sports league possibly generate when its championship series, the supposedly much-anticipated finale, is about as exhilarating as a root canal? Don't believe me? How much of last year's Finals between the Lakers and Nets did you actually watch? And how much of the Western Conference Finals between the Lakers and Kings did you watch? Yeah, me too.
It wasn't too long ago that teams from both conferences were evenly matched. Times have changed, though, and now the best from the East are simply overmatched by their cross-country counterparts. How the heck are we supposed to get excited about that?
I know I'm not alone here -- most fans simply don't care about the NBA nearly as much as they did even three or four years ago. Why should we when many of the league's supposed superstars log as much time in court as they do on court? How can we love this game when the players don't seem to even like us?
And we're expected to pay a couple hundred bucks for tickets, a few beers and maybe some nachos? I don't think so.
The NBA just doesn't carry the weight it once did with the fans, and even the return of its greatest player couldn't win us back. Soon, the NHL may join baseball and football in the sports world's Big Three, kicking the NBA and its hip-hop flavor to the curb, much like its once loyal fan base has already done.
And imagine what's going to happen when Michael finally calls it quits for good. Ouch.
In the Bullz-Eye
The Seattle Mariners. Lou Piniella's bunch once seemed to have control of the AL West, but after a recent sweep at the hands of the Angels and a split of a two-game series with Texas, suddenly the M's find themselves just one game ahead of those Angels and two ahead of red-hot Oakland. If Seattle again wants to see the postseason, they'd better get moving because with New York and Boston both playing well in the AL East, the wild card could be just as heated as their divisional race.