Basketball Dies in April
April 6, 2007
So now that the Florida Gators have won the NCAA tournament, how did your pool do? I came in second to last in the pool at the Observer, ahead only of Mike Skocay who admits to knowing very little about college sports. Appropriately, sports editor Sarina Mathai won top honors.
Here are some of the more negative highlights of my bracket: I had Georgia Tech in the Final Four (they lost in the first round), Ohio State (the runner-up) losing in the second round, and Vanderbilt losing in the first round (they made it to the third). At least I called North Carolina beating…Eastern Kentucky.
Oh well. It was still a great game Monday night, and I had a lot of fun watching the tournament. But what puts the NCAA tournament among the most exciting sports events in the United States? More importantly, why is college ball so much better than the professional NBA? Maybe it’s because everything in the NBA is half of what it should be. Half-filled stadiums, 50 percent shooting accuracy, half-assed effort from the players, and half-naked cheerleaders.
The only thing that has gotten bigger in the NBA over the past 30 years is the shorts. When Larry Bird was drafted in 1978—and wore shorts that were half as long as they are now—NBA players were committed, fast, hard-working, and intelligent. They used back cuts and give-and-go’s. They took charges, and didn’t travel (as much). The Boston Celtics built three dynasties from the brains and talent of Bob Cousy, Bill Russell, John Havlicek, Dave Cowens, Red Auerbach, Larry Bird, and many others—a collection of Celtics who stayed with the team for decades through thick and thin.
Where is that loyalty and determination today? Dynasties aren’t built these days because players’ affiliations with coaches and teams are transient (see the Shaq/Kobe/Phil Jackson conundrum in Los Angeles a few years back).
Now, the NBA is rife with half-hearted though talented men who have little respect for the high level of game that prior generations of NBA players represented. Do you think Red Auerbach would tolerate being choked by one of players, like Latrell Spreewell did to his coach P.J. Carlesimo in 1997?
Even worse, NBA management has shown little effort for fixing problems central to the game. They consistently ignore and cheapen the spirit of the game in the interest of making it flashy and fan-centered. The result is a hollow organization that lacks sportsmanship and quality of play that alienates former fans like me. Here are a few examples of rules that hurt the game:
[1. The 24-second shot clock.] Most high schools have a 30 second shot clock. The NCAA has 35 seconds. This allows players to set up a play, run it, examine scoring options, and take a shot after a series of precise passes. In the NBA, the shorter shot clock encourages players to take rushed shots without the complex plays that characterized NBA teams of the past. The NBA claims that they want to speed the game up, but which do we prefer: to get out of the stadium more quickly, or to enjoy a more entertaining game?
[2. The pro-offense defense.] In the past few years, the NBA allowed teams to use a zone defense. But, they stipulated that a defensive player could not stand in his own key for more than three seconds, just like the offense. Also, a foul that would otherwise be a charge against the offense is now a block against the defense if it occurs within the arc under the basket. These rules are meant to leave a free path for offensive players to drive and make exuberant slam dunks against a lax defense. It undermines the legitimacy of a team’s inside game if the NBA leaves a free zone in which big men can operate unhampered by the competition. The NBA effectively has cheapened the game in the interest of seeing dunks that are farther above the rim and more powerful.
[3. The interminable post-season.] The NBA’s playoffs are way too long. They begin in late April and may run until late June. That’s two months of playoffs for just 16 teams. A team could win the championship with a meager 57 percent winning percentage. I don’t have the stamina to watch the same thing over and over again night after night. The NBA made the playoffs so long not because they are interested in seeing more quality basketball; they just wanted more airtime and advertisement revenues. The seven-game format of each round in the playoffs makes the playoffs not as special as they used to be.
Now look at college. If the NBA tournament is a dose of Valium, the NCAA tournament is a triple shot of espresso. The NCAA tournament finds a winner out of 64 teams in one month of high intensity games, where the only team to go undefeated is the national champion. Lose once and your gone.
NCAA athletes are not motivated by money, and the tournament is so exciting because once you get to the Big Dance, almost anyone can win. Just think about all the classic NCAA underdog performances in past epic March Madnesses: Bucknell’s and Vermont’s monumental upsets two years ago, #11 George Mason’s Final Four appearance last year, and Florida guard Joakim Noah’s face every single game in 2007? This kid’s face should show everyone what college ball is all about: the anguish, the passion, and the desire. Show me that face in the NBA.
It’s easy for Tufts students to forget that sports exist outside of our campus. Unfortunately, athletic events here are poorly attended, dorm rooms aren’t equipped with ESPN (the bread and water of most sports fans), and, as a Division 3 school, few big name athletic programs come to campus. But that doesn’t mean that sports are unimportant. Indeed, trends in the NCAA and the NBA can be reflective of larger social trends that we should be aware of. More and more top college players are rising to the NBA earlier and earlier: LeBron James was picked first in the draft out of high school at age 18. Why is this? Why do they squander their athletically and academically fruitful college experiences by rising so quickly and often before their prime?
The answers are numerous: fame, money, prestige, even vanity. But what kind of message does that give to the next generation of NCAA athletes, or any athlete at any skill level or age? The NBA should make professional basketball less money-driven by imposing a steeper salary cap, an age limit on playing in the NBA, and creating a minimum contract that mandates players must stay with their teams. The players could make it better for the fans by remembering the game’s values of loyalty and passion of yore. It wouldn’t only benefit the NBA, it would positively impact athletes and Americans all over the country.
Duncan Pickard is a freshman in the School of Arts and Sciences.

Do college players play harder than their professional counterparts?
No. No. A thousand times no. Compared to their pro counterparts, college players do a lot more jersey-popping and floor-slapping.
But play with more energy? Please.
"Coming out of college, I had no idea what it took to be successful in this league," Daniels says. "It took me going to San Antonio and playing around a professional group of guys.
"Things happen so quickly at this level. Decisions are made so much faster. Guys are a lot craftier, they think a lot quicker and they react a lot quicker."
College players show emotion. For sheer atmosphere, pep bands and rabid fans trump corporate boxes and Jock Jams Vols. 1-5. Couple that with a lower degree of skill, and the college game can appear more intense.
Don't be fooled.
In the time it takes a campus star to pound his chest, drop into a defensive stance and raise a fist, a pro player can use a quick hesitation dribble to get to the rim. Economy of motion does not equal economy of effort.
"When you watch Tracy McGrady score, it doesn't look like he's working," Haywood says. "But that's because he's just that good. College guys look a little more rugged, like they're playing extra hard when they're doing the same thing we're doing."
In college, an NBA-level player can sometimes coast -- he's that much better. In the pros, even the scrubs were campus stars. Come out flat, and you're bound to get hammered. Then there's playing through pain: think Jerry Sloan ignoring two broken ribs, Isiah Thomas scoring 25 points in a quarter on a severely sprained ankle, Iverson cutting off his own cast to play with a broken thumb.
Would most college players do the same?
Hollinger suggests another test. Defense, coaches say, is mostly a matter of effort. When was the last time a rookie -- fresh from hustling so very, very much in college -- made the All-Defensive Team?
Try never.
(from http://proxy.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=hruby/051104)
Posted by: Eric at April 6, 2007 9:18 PM