Let me tell you what Marcus Banks looks like running an offense in person: Even faster, even more out of control, and even more confused than he looks on TV. I know this because last year my roommate and I spent $25 to go to a Boston Celtics game, where we sat in the upper deck and steadily made our way down to the good seats. The closer we got to the court, the easier it was to see that Banks was dribbling the ball at chest level like a seventh grader as he raced down the court with absolutely no clue of what to do or how to run an offense.
What else did we have the privilege of viewing? Jiri Welsch took one of the ugliest shots I've ever seen on any level - and that includes the youth basketball league I used to volunteer for where five-year-olds shot underhand and the ball went halfway to the rim. Kedrick Brown showed the explosive athleticism that got him drafted as a touted prospect - and the lack of any semblance of anything else relating to the game of basketball that will escort him out of the league by age 26. Paul Pierce looked plain disinterested and I can't say I blamed him. I was a little disinterested myself; if I had wanted to spend $25 laughing and wincing, I would have gone to a comedy club.
The Celtics were that bad - and somehow, they still beat the Sacramento Kings that night; I didn't reach the same level of shock and disgust again until Tuesday night.
Keeping this in mind, I love the NBA. Not because it's great (it's not), but because I love basketball. I love the NBA in much the same way that I love America, not because of what it is or because of the direction it's currently going, but because of what it used to be and what I think it could be again. And I feel both of them slipping away from everything that made them great.
I'll be the first to admit that the NBA product is not very good right now. Most players (by which I mean most of the younger players, of which there are more and more every year) can't shoot or pass (nor do they really want to in the latter case). They go for the ball instead of the body on the boards. They keep the ball on 3-on-2 or 2-on-1 fast breaks, which is only the most infuriating thing ever if you're that teammate filling the lane. Just being tall is enough to make you a millionaire; you don't actually have to be good (at least that's what Adonal Foyle told me).
Now, a confession: My favorite NBA player is Allen Iverson. "What?!" you say. "A.I.? He can't shoot! He doesn't want to pass! He doesn't even want to practice!! How can he be your favorite player?!"
Well, one at a time.
Yes, A.I. He actually can shoot. Unfortunately, he takes a lot of bad shots, which make it look like he can't shoot, but those really come from his belief that he has to take those kinds of shots to win because his teammates aren't offensively skilled. Because Iverson takes so many shots, people think that he's selfish; if you've ever seen him play during the All-Star game, you know that's not true.
And as for his disdain for practice, well, for once in my life, I feel like a Bush supporter; when you like someone so much, you become blind to his faults, and can't - and thus don't even try to - defend some of the stupid things he says. So I won't even try.
But the reason I love Iverson is that he cares. I thought about what I most want to see in my athletes. Athleticism is high up there. Picture Barry Bonds locking in, Donovan McNabb eluding the rush, Emanuel Ginobili slicing in for lay-ups. So is the ability to perform in the clutch. Think Reggie Miller, Tom Brady, and Mariano Rivera. But the thing I want to see the most in my athletes is that they care. I don't see that enough in the NBA.
I saw it Sunday afternoon. I watched with about 70 other fans as the women's soccer team's season ended in a 1-0 loss. Afterwards, several Jumbos bent over, hands on knees, in shock. Some of them cried. One aimlessly juggled a ball. For minutes, they just sat there. Slowly, one by one, they unlaced their cleats. That wasn't the way it was supposed to end for that team. But that's how it ended. And that's life. And yes, it was only a soccer game. But at least they cared.
Say what you want about Kobe Bryant, or Derek Jeter, but at least they care. The last time I saw an NBA player besides A.I. really, really seem to care about losing - and I mean a real, unable-to-control-their-own-emotions sort of care - was when Bryant broke into tears on the bench when the Lakers lost to the Spurs in the 2003 playoffs. Last year, the Lakers looked like they were happy to just have their zombie-like season over with.
To me, that's the biggest problem with the NBA right now. Most people say it's the lack of skill. But it's not like college basketball players are the paragons of fundamentals. No one knows how to shoot anymore, on any level (except for me). But at least college players care. If NBA players cared about their teams, and about winning and losing, they'd probably pass more and give more effort. But a lot of the players don't seem to care. And if they don't care, then how can they expect us to? And if we don't care, how can we keep paying $25 to go to a game? We won't.
For now, I'll keep watching. And hoping.
