Callahan on Basket-Brawl

[Way Of The Ray <wayray@ix.netcom.com>]

http://www.bostonherald.com
Basket-brawl: NBA playoffs have fans down for the count
Tunnel Vision/by Gerry Callahan 
Friday, April 28, 2000


Firing away while begging Jimy Williams to leave Brian Daubach at first
base every day until we tell him otherwise. ...

It was the highlight of the 2000 NBA playoffs to date and it was not
even caught on camera. In case you missed it, Miami Heat coach Pat Riley
allegedly swam into the wall of his own backyard pool a few days ago,
smashing his head into the concrete and opening a gash that required six
stitches.

Are you going to tell me there has been a single spinning dunk or
last-second 3-pointer that could have surpassed this one moment for
sheer viewing pleasure? If you close your eyes and try real hard, you
can almost picture Riley, wearing his little grape-smuggler Speedo,
flopping around the pool deck in pain, bitching at no one in particular
for putting the wall there. Maybe this is the kind of high comedy David
Stern was hoping to capture when he wired all the coaches for sound.

If I come across as a sick and sadistic fan, I have a good excuse: The
NBA made me this way. I cannot watch a game these days without asking
the same old nagging question: Isn't there a way they could both lose?
The quality of the competition can actually be pretty good and there is
still no game on the planet that can touch the NBA for pure athleticism,
but let's face it: There hasn't been a bigger collection of creeps in
one place since the Baldwin brothers moved out of their mother's house.

And that's just in the Charlotte Hornets' locker room.

There are, of course, still a few class guys in the NBA, but they are
sadly outnumbered these days. Grant Hill is out of the playoffs, and Tim
Duncan hasn't started playing yet. Lenny Wilkens was shoved out the door
in Atlanta after the GM dropped a grenade named Isaiah Rider in his lap,
and Don Casey was given the boot because he failed to turn those mighty
Nets around in one year.

Most of the players in today's NBA seem to have the same objectives when
they take the court: Look mean, look mad, act tough. The scowl is as
popular these days as bad tattoos. Check it out: A lot of guys appear
just as angry WHEN THEY SCORE as when a bad call goes against them.

Rasheed Wallace, the wackjob star of the Portland Trail Blazers who,
incidentally has one of the silliest collections of tattoos in the game,
set an NBA record with 38 technical fouls this season. And how does
Wallace feel about his propensity to lose his cool, hurt his team and
embarass himself? ``I look at it as ... a positive thing,'' he says in
The Sporting News this week. ``If we're down or we're out there
lollygagging, it might get upset and get kicked out. From the games I've
seen, the team plays harder.''

So there you go. Rasheed is just being a good team guy. He's trying to
prevent his teammates from lollygagging.

Speaking of gagging, the Heat will likely close out the Hill-less
Pistons in Detroit tomorrow, which means Riley's team has delayed its
annual swan dive until at least Round 2. The Knicks, who are also up
2-0, are about to close out Toronto (Game 3 is Sunday in Toronto),
setting up the one matchup that best exemplifies Stern's NBA at the turn
of the century.

Knicks vs. Heat. Thugball at its finest. While coach of the Knicks,
Riley taught cheap-shot ball well, and his former assistant, Jeff Van
Gundy, dutifully carried on the tradition when he took over. Fans across
the country will be treated to two weeks of dirty play, bench-clearing
melees and endless scowling. There will be 12 angry men on each side,
and unfortunately there will be a winner. The NBA and NBC will be
rooting for the Knicks to advance past the Heat, then win the Eastern
Conference finals and face the Lakers for the title. But they should be
careful what they wish for.

The Knicks are such an outlaw outfit that Latrell Sprewell is now
considered one of their good guys. He is flanked by the likes of Larry
Johnson, a loathsome character who, according to Sports Illustrated, had
his friend Stacey Augmon threaten the life of a woman he had
impregnated. Hey, what did you expect him to do? She refused to get an
abortion, according to SI.

Then there is Marcus Camby, who permanently disgraced UMass when he got
caught taking money, jewelry and romps with a hooker from an agent. They
love Marcus now in New York, where they look at it this way: Sure, he's
a degenerate, but he's OUR degenerate. Kind of like Marv. And we can't
forget Chris Childs, who, when last we saw him, was sucker-punching Kobe
Bryant, perhaps the game's brightest young star. Do you suppose NBC is
already working on glowing profiles of these NBA heroes? Can't wait.

The NBA may be slipping fast in the hearts and minds of sports fans of
America, but at least Stern doesn't share one problem that is facing his
counterparts in the NFL headquarters. He doesn't have to worry about
Vince McMahon creating a more violent, more dangerous basketball league
to compete with the NBA.

McMahon's no dummy. He knows it would just be more of the same.