Herald Article

[Bob Miller <bob@pointofchoice.com>]

FleetCenter becomes brick house
by Michael Gee

 Monday, March 15, 1999

 Why can't Americans teach their children how to shoot? Basketballs, that is.

 At halftime of their NCAA second-round game with Purdue, second-seeded
Miami had 13 offensive rebounds. But the Hurricanes only had 17 points,
because they'd made only 6-of-33 shots. Not too surprisingly, Purdue wound
up winning, 73-63.

 Three-pointers, drives, layups, medium range jumpers, putbacks, you name
it, Miami missed it. One of the allegedly eight best teams in the nation
put on a display of offensive ineptitude that'll stick in the memories (and
nightmares) of anyone unfortunate enough to witness it.

 We'd like to report that Miami's 100-story brick skyscraper was a horrid
aberration created by the law of averages. But that would be a lie. The
Hurricanes were merely the latest poster boys for the most disturbing trend
in sports today. Basketball is choking itself to death. Pro and college
scores are plummeting like the Moscow stock market.

 OK, Purdue played excellent defense. But 17 points in a half would be a
ridiculous total for the cellar dweller in the Old Colony League. It is the
third-lowest halftime point total in the NCAA tournament thus far, trailing
the 12 points Detroit scored against Ohio State and the 11 Wisconsin
managed against Southwest Missouri State in its 43-32 first-round loss.

 Come on, 43-32? Fellas, knock the bottom out of those peach baskets. It'll
really speed up the game.

 In the six games played this weekend at the FleetCenter, Miami's 63 was
actually the highest point total amassed by a losing team. The other five
schools eliminated got 54 in four games, and 48 in one.

 That's not a formula calculated to win a large share of America's
entertainment. I yield to no man in my respect for John Chaney and his
Temple Owls. Their 64-54 win over Cincinnati was a fascinating intellectual
exercise. But if every team played like Temple, no one would ever buy a
ticket.

 Temple at least has an idea, albeit a boring one. Miami and Cincinnati are
what's happening in basketball today. They are teams composed of gifted
athletes whose grasp of basketball's offensive skills is shockingly low.
When they cannot physically dominate an opponent, cluelessness kicks in in
a major way.

 Miami was bigger, stronger and faster than the Boilermakers. The
Hurricanes took 76 shots to Purdue's 38. They outrebounded Gene Keady's
team, 45-29. But Purdue made its shots, because the Boilermakers knew how
to create good shots for themselves.

 Purdue ran real plays. They'd do such things as run two men off one
screen, a basic maneuver that's now as rare as a squad making over 75
percent of its free throws.

 Temple's in the Sweet Sixteen. It cannot inbound the ball against
pressure. In fact, all the teams at the FleetCenter except Purdue imploded
at the first hint of full-court pressure. If the mid-'60s UCLA team with
Walt Hazzard and Gail Goodrich came back to the college game today, it
might pitch shutouts.

 Basketball is not the decathlon. Coaches are recruiting strong, fast young
men, putting them in the weight room and teaching them defense because
athleticism and willpower can create a great defensive player. A game
always ridiculed as full of men who care for nothing but scoring has swung
wildly in the other direction.

 Making a shot is basketball's supreme joy, a sensual pleasure. It is also
the most basic fundamental of all, since it is how points are put on the
scoreboard. Larry Bird could do everything, but his game flowed from his
shot, and he knew it.

 Coaches need to return to teaching offense. They could start by letting
their players run. In the two games yesterday, four teams combined for a
grand total of 18 fast-break points. That sure brings the crowd to its feet.

 Or perhaps the NCAA could bring back the no-dunk rule, the statute that
inspired Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to perfect the sky hook, which produced a few
points.

 Anything to teach these kids how to shoot. Because if you ain't got shot,
you ain't got game. Not much of a game at all.