Centers' Little Helper

Dennis Hans, unrenowned former adjunct professor of mass comm and American foreign policy, relentlessly exposed the Bush administration’s “techniques of deceit” BEFORE the Iraq war, when it could have made a difference (see links). For decades he has fought baseball’s discrimination against lefthanded infielders and promoted his ingenious clockwise solution. A lifelong advocate for a flowing, non-brutal, flop-free NBA, he now champions the cause of its second-class citizens: the centers.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Some oldies but goodies from InsideHoops.com
I noticed recently that a number of essays I penned in the early years of this century are now archived and accessible. Brimming with insight, passion and occasionally humor, these gems appeared at the website InsideHoops.com, which is run by long-time hoop enthusiast Jeff Lechiner, who had the wisdom to take a chance on a brilliant but unknown writer. Imagine how much better and fairer the NBA would have been this century if I had been calling the shots — hiring the key people who write and interpret the rules and train the refs.

Players Who Cheat and the Announcers Who Love Them (March 8, 2002)
Turner Broadcasting NBA analyst Danny Ainge declares his love for players who deceive officials; no fine or suspension under consideration at this time.

Fifteen Steps to a Better NBA: There's nothing wrong with pro hoops that freedom of movement and an influx of speedy short guys can't cure (July 1, 2001)

The NBA Needs a New Cliché: "Make him earn a defensive stop." (Dec. 24, 2002)
League executives should take a cue from America's corporate scandals and enact penalties that deter rather than reward intentional fouls and thuggery.

In search of colorblind NBA commentators: NBA analysts should follow Sean Elliott's lead and desegregate player comparisons (Nov. 18, 2002)

Blow the whistle on the foul-out rule: Throughout the NCAA and NBA playoffs, this unspeakably cruel rule turned great competitors into frustrated spectators (Nov. 8, 2002)

NBA Refs Need to Put Themselves In the Driver's Feet: Current block/charge interpretation unfairly favors defenders over high-flying penetrators (May 29, 2002)

Ray Allen tops Dirk and Peja as NBA's most efficient gunner (March 2, 2002)
Ten years ago I created a scoring-efficiency stat, Points Per Scoring Opportunity, which incorporates deuces, treys and free throws. While Allen (late in the 2001-02 season) led those who averaged at least 22 points, Reggie Miller and Steve Nash would have ranked 1-2 if the cutoff was 16 ppg. Brent Barry dominated the 15-points-and-under crowd.

Shaq Passes the Brick to Baron and Big Ben: Laker center no longer the player most likely to hurt his team's playoff chances by struggling at the stripe (April 24, 2002)
Amazing article where I accurately predicted that Shaq would win games at the free-throw line in the 2002 playoffs. Granted he violated the step-over rule on most of his makes, but there were only three refs staring at the violation. Thus it is understandable that they missed the call every time.

Blame Riley for Shaq's free-throw woes (May 25, 2006)
Four years later, in Miami, Shaq was lost at the stripe. I explained why. He's fortunate his ineptitude didn't cost the Heat the 2006 NBA crown.

Nash's reading material matches Suns playing style (Feb. 3, 2005)
Seven years ago Steve Nash told the New York Times he was reading the autobiography of Cuban revolutionary Che Guevara. To help him better understand Che's political philosophy, Nash also was perusing one of the books that influenced Che: The Communist Manifesto, by Karl Marx and Frederick Engels. I took it from there.

"Samurai Boardsman" Fortson Fuels Sonics (Dec. 5, 2004)
A comparison of John Belushi's Samurai Swordsman character from the early years of Saturday Night Live with Seattle Sonics rebounding maestro Danny Fortson, whose girth and hair style led me to dub him the Samurai Boardsman.

Team USA steals Ric Flair's script for rivals, buzz (Aug. 27, 2004)
Turns out I was wrong. Team USA's early struggles weren't a pro wrestling-style act to boost ratings by making it appear that other nations had a legit shot at beating Uncle Sam. I failed to factor in the incompetence of Larry Brown, who coached the 2004 men's Olympics basketball team to a bronze medal.

Friday, December 30, 2011

Dwight is lost at the stripe but still setting great moving picks
I’ll soon be seeking employment with one or more NBA teams helping tall guys develop a jumper and improve at the stripe, and if I land a position it likely will entail surrendering my free-speech rights on basketball issues. Alas, that’s the NBA way, First Amendment be darned. So in the meantime I’m going to get some things off my chest.

One player I think I could help significantly is Dwight Howard, either on my own (my preference) or in conjunction with his personal shooting coach (Ed Palubinskas, assuming their off-season partnership has extended into the season) or Orlando Magic assistant coaches Mark Price and Patrick Ewing. My objective would be to help Howard develop — or rediscover — his very own shooting style, so he can be as spontaneous and instinctive with jumpers in the 10-to-15-foot range (much like one of his mentors, Hakeem Olajuwon) as he already is from in close with his lefty and righty jumphooks.

Read the rest at hoopshype.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

LeBron breaks through at the stripe by breaking a rule
It's early, but LeBron James looks very good at the line. He's got a relaxed, fluid and free arm motion, which is working well with his somewhat more open stance. But he's also following his shot, stepping over the line with his right foot before the ball reaches the basket. It's like he's daring the refs to whistle him for this rather obvious violation of the rules.

According to Ronnie Nunn, the former ref who oversaw the development of officials until being laid off this past fall, it’s a violation even if that step doesn’t hit the ground before the ball reaches the rim. (Nunn made that point on one of his “Making the Call” shows on NBA TV.) So the new LeBron is always (at least on the free-throw attempts I’ve seen this season) in violation, even though it’s often a close call as to whether his right foot has landed before the ball reaches the rim. He's definitely stepping before the ball arrives at the basket.

Can LeBron keep his new delivery while discarding the step-over? I think so. With LeBron, it looks more like an affirmative confidence-building measure — he's following the shot right into the basket, and he’s also guarding against his old habit of leaning back on his release. It’s not like Reggie Evans trying to get a head start on rebounding his own miss. Nor does it seem to be an involuntary reflex, as with Shaq at various stages of his career when, by design, his weight and release point were well-forward and there was a lot of acceleration in his stroke. Refs allowed Shaq to get away with this when the Lakers needed it most (against Sacramento in the 2002 Western Conference Finals). But in the 2008 playoffs when Shaq was a Sun facing the Spurs, the refs didn’t allow it. All of a sudden Shaq was losing points on the violation and trying to break a habit while simultaneously sinking a shot in a pressurized environment. Perhaps that explains why Shaq shot .500 (32 for 64) in the playoffs after shooting .595 (309 for 519) in the regular season. It certainly didn't help.

That’s the risk LeBron takes. He doesn’t want to arrive in the 2012 playoffs — or worse, the Finals — comfortable and confident with his deeply ingrained step-over stroke, and all of a sudden the refs decide to enforce this rule.

Tuesday, December 06, 2011

SPOILER ALERT! NBA TV now run by spoilers
The league’s cable channel is giving away the outcome of many vintage games at the opening tip

(This is an essay I penned several weeks ago for which I could not find an outlet.)

By Dennis Hans

The NBA’s 2008 decision to relocate its cable channel, NBA TV, from New Jersey to Atlanta and turn the operation over to the TNT crowd at Turner Sports has, in one respect, been a disaster.

My favorite program on the channel is “Hardwood Classics” — rebroadcasts of great games dating all the way back to the 1963 Finals, when Bill Russell and Bob Cousy squared off against Jerry West and Elgin Baylor. Most are two-hour productions that trim away the fat of pre-game and half-time chatter so that most if not all of the action can be squeezed into the allotted time. Viewers are transported back in time to experience the game “as it happened,” in the words of the voiceover intro on many of the Classics assembled at the old studio in New Jersey.

Some of the Jersey productions add nothing to the original broadcast; others, at the start of each segment, flash in the upper right-hand corner for about 10 seconds the names of the opponents, the game number and playoff round, and the date it was played. The graphic is usually gone by the time the action resumes, and it doesn’t provide a clue as to who won or lost.

Tune in and you’re likely to be swept away by the grace and skill of these lanky, limber gazelles in the pre-bulked-up era of the ’60s, ’70s and much of the ’80s — and amused by their quaint habit of dribbling the top of the basketball. (Everyone knows that the proper way to dribble is to cradle the ball, keeping your cupped hand underneath or on the side of the ball for an eternity or two.) And unless you’re a history nut or a geezer with a good memory, you — and perhaps your kids or grandkids who are just developing their passion for basketball — won’t know the outcome and thus can get caught up in the unfolding on-court drama.

Well, no more. The geniuses at Turner have decided to display — right from the opening tip — an info graphic on most (not all) of their new Hardwood Classics productions that tells viewers who won. This despite having produced new on-screen intros by staff announcers such as Matt Winer and Rick Kamla drawing the audience in by dramatically setting the stage for what is to follow. Here, by Winer, is a typical one:

“In Game 3 of the 1991 Eastern Conference Finals, the Chicago Bulls were looking to advance to the NBA Finals for the very first time. Standing in their path: the nemesis Detroit Pistons, who won the last two NBA championships. Can Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen and company take a commanding 3-0 lead in the series, and push Isiah Thomas, Dennis Rodman and the Bad Boys to the brink of extinction?”

Let’s overlook the error in logic in the opening sentence: You can’t sew up a seven-game series and thus “advance” by winning the third game. At least someone had the good sense to clear up the confusion with a correct concluding sentence. Alas, that was the last bit of good sense that the Turner people displayed in this production, for here is what viewers saw 25 seconds after Winer’s presentation: BULLS BREAK THROUGH IN MOTOR CITY

If you had happened to run to the kitchen and missed this important news when it first appeared, you did not get lucky. The helpful Turner people made this bulletin a semi-permanent on-screen fixture — a big, black rectangular block with white lettering in the lower left-center of the screen, often blotting out the bouncing of the ball and parts of a player or two. The info-block fades out only when the original broadcast flashes the score or some other helpful fact; once that fades out the 2011 info-block reappears.

An apparently newly discovered tape of the second half of Game 4 of the 1966 Eastern Conference Semifinals, between the Boston Celtics and the Cincinnati Royals, has been turned into a one-hour Hardwood Classic with a fine introduction by Kamla informing viewers that the Royals can eliminate the Celtics with a win. “Do they succeed at the Cincinnati Gardens?” asks Kamla. “Let’s find out.” Barely a second later, we did: CELTICS AVOID ELIMINATION, TIE SERIES 2-2

Believe it or not, these rectangular info-blocks are an improvement on another Turner innovation: a big blue info-blob, taking up a chunk of the lower-left portion of the screen, which ruined the new NBA TV editions of the 1972 and 1977 All-Star Game. (The only thing dumber is ESPN’s baseball telecasts, which superimpose the strike zone on the screen on every pitch, thus obstructing the view of the all-important pitcher-batter confrontation.) Fortunately for fans, the 1972 game airs occasionally on the ESPN Classic channel, minus the blue blob.

Here are three more playoff-game giveaways I’ve encountered in new Hardwood Classics productions from a great NBA decade:

Introducing the start of the 1983 Knicks-Nets series, Winer asked, “Who will take control in Game 1 in Brendan Byrne Arena?” The answer arrived instantaneously: BERNARD KING LEADS KNICKS TO WIN

Winer, setting the scene for the hard-fought 1986 Milwaukee-Philadelphia series, asked “Who will seize control in Game 1 at The Mecca?” Two seconds later his colleagues spilled the beans: BARKLEY LEADS 4th QUARTER COMEBACK

For Game 6 of the 1986 Finals, Team Turner opted to skip a 2011 intro and go right to the original CBS broadcast. Another change: the info-block was raised to the less obtrusive upper left corner, which is where the outcome was immediately revealed: CELTICS WIN 16th NBA TITLE

See if you can discern the winner of the following playoff matchups, using only the subtle clue of NBA TV’s on-screen, ALL-CAPS perma-script:

BARKLEY POWERS SUNS WITH BIG DOUBLE-DOUBLE
BARKLEY’S TRIPLE DOUBLE LEADS SUNS TO WIN
JOHN STOCKTON COMES UP CLUTCH
LAKERS SURVIVE & ADVANCE TO NBA FINALS
MICHAEL JORDAN’S 1ST CAREER PLAYOFF SERIES WIN
SUPERSTAR PERFORMANCE BY KAREEM ABDUL-JABBAR
M. JORDAN’S SCORING SPREE LEADS BULLS PAST SUNS
K. JOHNSON LEADS SUNS TO WIN & EXTEND SERIES
BULLS REPEAT AS CHAMPIONS

I don’t know if Ted Turner is still running his media empire, but whoever is in charge I implore thee: keep the NBA TV braintrust as far away as humanly possible from Turner Classic Movies. I don’t want Robert Osborne’s fascinating, non-spoiler set-ups to be followed by a permanent on-screen spoiler caption as the film rolls.

[SPOILER ALERT!!! If you’re new to classic movies and plan on becoming a fan, stop reading now or avert your eyes as you skip ahead to the final paragraph.]

In short, I don’t want to see this:
“Detective Robert Thorn discovers that Soylent Green, a popular processed food, is made from PEOPLE!”

Or this:
“Shy oddball Norman Bates, who years ago murdered his mother without getting caught and now impersonates her, stabs to death Marion Crane in the shower.”

Or this:
“Norma Desmond will soon be ready for her close-up — down at the police station, for the murder of struggling screenwriter and reluctant gigolo Joe Gillis. The butler DIDN’T do it, though he did write all of Norma’s ‘fan mail’ and was once her director AND husband!”

Please, NBA TV. The on-screen clutter is annoying and unnecessary even when it’s innocuous (e.g., JORDAN & MAGIC DUEL IN THE FINALS). It’s unacceptable when it announces the result. Let Winer and Kamla dramatically set the stage, but don’t undercut their efforts and sabotage the viewing experience by allowing the production geniuses to mark their territory with info-block spoilers. Just show the darn game as it was originally broadcast, and let fans of all ages who are discovering these rare treats for the first time enjoy the suspense as well as the artistry of vintage NBA basketball.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Livin’ La Vida Choka
That will be the theme song for LeBron James and the Miami Heat for at least the next 12 months — and possibly many more.

"At the end of the day, all the people that was rooting on me to fail, at the end of the day they have to wake up tomorrow and have the same life that they had before they woke up today," said The Hoopster Formerly Known As King. "They have the same personal problems they had today."

But they'll be smilin', and their problems won't seem quite so daunting as long as their singin' La Vida Choca.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Ronald Reagan turns 100
The 100th anniversary of Ronald Reagan's birth came on February 6, kicking off another round of tributes and a highly favorable HBO documentary by a filmmaker one would have expected to take a more critical view. I offered a different take on his presidency in an essay that appeared Tuesday: Reagan’s Third-World Reign of Terror.

Back in 2001, when the nation celebrated his 90th birthday, I dissected PBS’s fawning tributes on the Charlie Rose show and the NewsHour with Jim Lehrer: Looking at Reagan Through (Charlie) Rose-Colored Glasses.

In 2004, I took a more thorough (and sardonic) look at Reagan's Dark Global Legacy.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Dwight's free-throw routine is illegal
Dwight Howard's current free-throw routine takes 12-to-15 seconds to execute, which means he is in violaton of the time-limit rule, which says "Each free throw attempt shall be made within 10 seconds after the ball has been placed at the disposal of the free-thrower."

Assuming he's been taking this long all season (I didn't put him under the clock until last week), Dwight, through games of Nov. 28, is averaging 7.0 illegal points per game. Thus his scoring average, in a league where rules mattered, would be 15.6 rather than the career-high 22.6 he is currently averaging.

Dwight averages 13 free-throw attempts per game. One would think that at least one of the three officials on hand would get suspicious after the first few interminable attempts, give Dwight a warning and put him on the clock for the rest of the game. Alas, it seems that none of the league's refs — and none of their supervisors in the stands nor the supervisors' bosses at NBA headquarters — knows how to count to ten.

Don't the refs get bored as Dwight — 13 times a game — goes through his tedious ritual? Dwight is hardly the only cause of the excessive length of NBA games, but if he could cut his routine from roughly 13 seconds to 8 everyone in the arena would have an extra 65 seconds to enjoy life. Some fans might even use a portion of that extra time to ponder why a guy shooting a career low .539 from the line was taking so darn long back in the first month of the 2010-11 season.

Not all of Dwight's remaining 15.6 points per game are legitimate. For instance, he benefits from another counting deficiency of many NBA refs: the inability to count to 3. A number of his baskets come after uncalled 3-seconds violations. Those violations often are preceded by an uncalled moving pick out near the 3-point line, after which Dwight barrels into the lane and dislodges a defender, then illegally extends his arms clothesline-style so the defender can't get around him to deflect an entry pass. I mention all this just so no one gets the impression that these unfortunate refs, trained by the most incompetent supervisors in NBA history, would be just fine if only they could count.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Sports Illustrated's Chris Ballard owes me an apology and his readers a refund
I learned recently that Chris Ballard mentions me in his book The Art of a Beautiful Game: The thinking fan's tour of the NBA (see pages 88 and 89). It's the chapter on free throws, and the section dealing with Dwight Howard's ongoing problems at the line. Ballard gives me a fair shake at first, quoting from my analysis of the shooting style Howard was employing at the 2008 Olympics and the early months of the 2008-09 NBA season:
Dennis Hans, a self-styled shooting guru and freelance writer, wrote on his blog that the problem was "a premature unhinging of the flexed wrist of the shooting hand" and compared Howard's motion to the way golfers get in a bad habit of "hitting from the top."

Granted, it would have been helpful to his readers if Ballard had quoted more from my analysis, either the blog post or the longer piece for HoopsHype. That way, his readers would understand why it's bad for golfers to "hit from the top" and for Howard to have that long, slow, back-and-forth, premature-unhinging motion (both as a free-throw shooter and jumpshooter).

Even Howard eventually figured out that it wasn't working and likely never would, as he drastically changed his shooting style in the summer of 2009 (after Ballard's book went to press), rendering idiotic the statements by assistant coach Patrick Ewing ("It's just repetition, repetition, repetition — and believing in it") and former Magic player Nick Anderson (who told Howard, as paraphrased by Ballard, "there was nothing wrong with his mechanics, that it was mental"). Whether Ballard sees himself as the "thinking fan" in his book's subtitle or the thinking fan's "guide," the implication is he's capable of independent thought. So why couldn't he discern that Ewing and Anderson are clueless, and that the only reason to quote them at length would be to make fun of them?

(I dissected Howard's new-but-unimproved 2009-10 stroke here.)

But what really irritates me is what Ballard writes immediately after the "hitting from the top" quote:
In case we didn't get the point, Hans also called Howard's form "a sickly shooting motion," "lousy" and a "monstrosity."

Ballard gives the reader the impression that I ran out of serious things to say and, rather than simply end my analysis, took some parting pot-shots. But if you read the section of my essay from which Ballard plucked his mini-quotes, you'll see that such is not the case, and that the monster metaphor ("monstrosity") explains how various Orlando Magic assistant coaches over several seasons transformed an 18-year-old with a fairly sound and simple stroke into a young man of 23 or 24 who not only was lost at the line, but was failing with a convoluted contraption of a stroke that was not his own: it had been pieced together — with Howard's gullible, authority-worshipping ascent — Dr. Frankenstein-style. Here's what I wrote:
Howard, on the other hand, begins a long, slow and gradual unhinging of his shooting wrist right from the start of the “forth” segment. There’s no snap at the end because there’s nothing left to snap: you can’t snap and already-unhinged wrist. This prevents him from extending on his shot and is the cause of the lame-looking bent-arm finish.

This sickly shooting motion, which he’s constantly ingraining with his daily sessions practicing free throws, is a double whammy. It hasn’t worked at the line, and it shows no sign of working from the field. His inability to even attempt short- and mid-range jumpshots when the flow of the game presents such opportunities seriously impedes his offensive development.

What Howard thinks is a fundamentally sound stroke is actually a fundamentally unsound non-stroke. He has a long, lousy, slow-motion follow through where his stroke should be. How a rookie with a nice-looking shot ended up four years later with this monstrosity is a long story. (I told some of it here this past spring.)

I use the word “monstrosity” not to be cruel but for how Howard’s shot has been assembled. It’s been pieced together over time by various assistant coaches in the manner that Dr. Frankenstein constructed his monster. In both cases, the parts don’t add up to a smoothly functioning whole. It’s not what he had as a rookie, nor what some of his tall teammates have today.

I may have more to say on other glaring flaws in Ballard's free-throw chapter. It's not surprising that he would consider Dan Barto's gobbledygook junk-science analysis of Howard worthy of inclusion. Barto, a young, gung-ho, well-meaning sort who is way too technical for his own good, helped turn Andrei Kirilenko into one of the most confused and dreadful jumpshooters in NBA history in 2006-07. Also, Ballard's discussion of Shaq at the stripe suggests the author slept through the first seven seasons of the 21st century's initial decade.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Rajon (or Rondo) and the Rondoliers
Now that the Rajon Rondo has emerged as a phenomenal and charismatic force of nature on the basketball court, it's time to retire the "Big Three" nickname. It's absurd to refer to the gritty but aging trio of Kevin Garnett, Ray Allen and Paul Pierce by that term. Let’s rebrand the trio — what the heck, all of Rondo’s teammates — as “the Rondoliers.” The Boston team that has the Cavs on the ropes is “Rajon and the Rondoliers,” or, if you prefer, “Rondo and the Rondoliers.”

Someone with mad photoshop skills can produce the appropriate visuals, with green and white replacing the black and white of the gondolier’s horizontally striped shirt. I see the Grizzled Three, oars in hand, along with Perk, Sheed, Scal, Big Baby and the rest, catering to their reclining leader’s every whim: they know that their title hopes rest on the continued brilliance of their tireless maestro.

Friday, April 30, 2010

Downhill shooter: Duncan once again fragile and frozen at the stripe
Tim Duncan shot .725 from the stripe this season, a little better than his adequate-for-a-center career mark of .687. But he has always looked vulnerable, as if he were one bad miss from starting another horrid streak, banging line-drive low fades off the front rim and, occasionally, off the back.

Well, the playoffs are here and once more he’s gone cold. The Spurs survived his 17 for 35 performance vs. the Mavs, including 1 for 7 in Thursday night’s clincher. I think he can stink up the joint in the second round and survive, but he’ll need to shoot well at the stripe to lead the Spurs to victory over the likely Western Conference Finals opponent, the Lakers.

Duncan isn’t tall enough to shoot a “downhill” free throw to a ten-foot high basket, but he comes mighty close. That leaves little margin for error, which tends to magnify little flaws that can creep in. A few misses and he starts to press, which in his case means focusing more intently, which adds to the tension in his body, which leads to even less fluidity and arc, which leads to more misses.

I can’t imagine him and the Spurs attempting a makeover at this critical juncture; more than likely, they’ll do what they’ve done in the past: hope the slump will vanish as mysteriously as it arrived.

His career .687 mark has not been characterized by consistent mediocrity; rather, he’s been on one long free-throw roller coaster. The main reason is that his approach to this unguarded 15-foot shot is in conflict with his very essence. Duncan is a laid-back, casually attired, easy-going, graceful, highly coordinated native of the Virgin Islands. The one and only season (2001-02) where he had a routine and delivery befitting such a man he shot .799 in the regular season and .822 in the playoffs — both career highs.

As I've pointed out to various Spurs staffers (to no avail), that routine had a rhythm and a flow — qualities that have rarely appeared in the various deliveries he has since employed. For the last several years he has opted for a five-second staring contest with the rim, followed by an abrupt lifting of his dangling arms into a quick, single-motion shot. It’s unpleasant to watch even when it’s working, as it did this season prior to the All-Star break. (He shot .750 before and .667 after.)

Maybe he’ll recapture his early season stare-and-fling groove. For the long haul, however, he’d be better off if his slump continued, for it just might make him face the music. Or better yet, listen to it. Something lilting; you know, with rhythm and flow.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Silly Goose: How Dwight Howard’s willingness to be coached ruined his shooting stroke
Back on March 23 I was interviewed by Tim Keown of the bi-weekly ESPN The Magazine for a piece he’s doing on who is most likely to lose a game or series in the NBA playoffs by failing at the free-throw line. It was a very pleasant chat, and I’ll know some time in May if any of my words of wisdom make it into his story.

Now that Shaq is 38 and an offensive afterthought, the likeliest candidate is Orlando’s Dwight Howard. As I told Keown, as a rookie right out of high school Howard had a respectable free-throw stroke and shot 70 percent or better in three separate months that season. He hasn’t had a single 70-percent month since, and he’s now put six seasons in the books. Instead of improving on his .671 rookie mark, Howard has put together five seasons of percentages between .586 and .595, despite the advantage of many more per-game attempts.

Howard’s problem is that he’s coachable. Beginning with his second season, Howard has allowed a succession of mostly clueless coaches to monkey with his shot. It started with Randy Ayers and Mark Bryant, who were assistants under Brian Hill. These are the guys who took credit for introducing to Howard the one feature that has had the most to do with his consistent ineptitude at the stripe and his failure to develop a short- to mid-range jumpshot that he can fire instantaneously in both planned and spontaneous situations. That feature is the gooseneck follow-through.

If I ever get the chance to deprogram Howard, the first thing I will explain to him is that your shooting style should determine what your follow-through looks like, and that even within a given style different types of shots will produce different follow-throughs. Some styles don’t lend themselves to a gooseneck follow-through, and if you try to impose the gooseneck you’ll distort or short-circuit your natural stroke and very likely won’t be pleased with the results.

Howard has gone through a variety of shooting styles over the years. Here, for instance, is my analysis of his late-2008 stroke, and in a column leading up to the 2008 playoffs I explained where he had gone wrong and how he could recapture his rookie form. This season he has utilized what I call a “little boy’s” technique, where you release the ball from a fairly low head-high position or even lower. (Kids shoot this way because the low release allows them to generate sufficient power to get the ball all the way to the basket.) Some tall guys have shot well this way, including Hall of Famers Magic Johnson and Jerry Lucas. On the current NBA scene, we have Matt Bonner launching his shoulder-fired moon shots from deep while also shooting accurately inside the arc and at the stripe. None of these guys were or are gooseneckers. It’s not a coincidence.

A few seasons back Andrei Kirilenko became one of the worst shooters in NBA history (based not on overall FG percentage, but his percentage on jumpshots), when a well-meaning but misguided off-season shooting coach persuaded him that the gooseneck was the key to shooting success and that he should hold that gooseneck high for several seconds after every shot. The result? Some of the sickliest wounded ducks the world has seen; airballs from 20, 18 and even 12 feet. No one on the Utah Jazz staff could figure out what was wrong — even after I pointed out the problem in letters to the coach and GM. Kirilenko’s offensive game deteriorated so badly that his coach and teammates, cognizant of the need to win games, gradually froze him out of the offense. This culminated in Kirilenko, a good guy with a sensitive soul, breaking down and crying after a practice during the Jazz-Rockets playoff series.

Looking at the big picture, Howard would be better off this summer scrapping his little-boy’s shot rather than trying to perfect it. That’s because it’s of almost no use as a jumpshot from the areas where Howard should operate: it’s too easy to block. As I explained a few years ago to assistant general manager Dave Twardzik, Howard needs to first develop a jump-shooting style that can be effective from eight-to-15 feet in a variety of situations, including being closely guarded by tall defenders who can jump. Such a shot won’t replace his nice repertoire of ambidextrous jumphooks, running hooks, spinning mini-push shots and (theoretically illegal) Shaq-style battering-ram dislodgings; rather, it will be a sweet addition. Sometimes the timing of a play, an expiring shot clock, or the lack of space to dribble or spin calls for a spontaneous jumper, and that needs to be in his arsenal — though “needs” may be too strong a word. If idiotic “bully ball” continues to be rewarded by Commissioner David Stern’s bumbling b-ball braintrust, Howard in most cases can use the threat or reality of dislodging to force double-teams and then pass the ball out to an open three-point shooter. (Enjoy it while you can, Orlando. When I replace Stern and assume dictatorial powers, the first two things to go will be the three-point line and all "moves," such as the ludicrous "back down," that smack of might makes right.)

Once Howard has a center-appropriate jumper, he can then build a free-throw routine and stroke based on how he releases his jumpshot. Should he have trouble translating that new stroke to the stripe, he can always revert back to his rookie form (strictly for free throws). That wouldn't be my first option, but it is possible to succeed with different shooting styles for field goals and free throws. Rick Barry and George Mikan were deadly with the underhand granny shot and Larry Brown used a two-hand set-shot for his free throws. Dwight would probably be at 75-80 percent right now if he had stuck with his rookie routine and delivery.

It’s worse than a waste of time for Howard to continue to shoot hundreds of free throws every day with his current style. All he is doing is ingraining a motion that will never translate to a workable, spontaneous jumper for a low-post center.

With Friends Like These: Mike Breen sees NBA refs as suckers to be conned
What do refs and their union leadership think when they hear Mike Breen, the play-by-play voice of the NBA on ABC and ESPN, matter-of-factly commend a player for a “good sell job” when his theatrics produce a favorable call?

One of the most difficult aspects of a ref’s job is distinguishing legal “incidental” contact from contact meriting a foul. It’s a challenge when the players are honest; it’s a monumental one when players present a distorted picture for the refs by exaggerating the force of contact, yelling for effect, flailing from self-initiated contact, or engaging in other acts of deception to trick the ref.

It’s bad enough that low-life color commentators such as Mark Jackson, Doug Collins and Reggie Miller praise this garbage. They’re supposed to be opinionated, and it’s hardly surprising that the latter two — quite possibly the all-time leaders in total career flops (Miller) and most flops per minute (Collins) — want their antics to be regarded as legitimate skills. It’s far worse when a neutral, theoretically objective play-by-play announcer — the semi-official voice of the league — offers similar praise.

I don’t know when Breen first adopted that philosophy and phrase, but here’s a typical example from the 2009 postseason. After Jeff Van Gundy said he couldn’t tell from the replay if Luis Scola flopped or Pau Gasol genuinely pushed off and thus merited the offensive foul called on him, Breen added “Good sell job by Scola.” He said this in the same tone he would say “Nice deflection by Ariza” or “Clever pass by Brooks.”

Breen is a former (youth-level) ref who presents himself as a defender and ally of referees. He is the last person on earth who should be lauding and normalizing fool-the-ref deceit for impressionable young hoopsters and their parents watching at home.

Active refs bargained away their right to free speech in their labor agreement with the league, so they can’t say what they think of Breen’s attitude. But what does Lamell J. McMorris, official spokesperson of the National Basketball Referees Association, think? What do retired refs think?

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Incompetent Officiating, Part I:
Self-blinded refs have Dwight’s UMP back


In one respect, Orlando’s 90-to-80 loss to Boston on TNT January 22 was like many Magic games this season: star center Dwight Howard “set” perhaps 15-to-20 UMPs.

An UMP is an uncalled moving pick. I place “set” in quotation marks because Howard — and many other modern screeners — operates under the assumption that one need not be set when setting a pick. Howard’s body language is that of an NFL H-back protecting his quarterback. His body is alive, ready to move left or right to block the onrushing foe.

On a standard Magic play Howard will come out near the three-point arc and wait for a teammate to activate the pick-and-roll by dribbling along a path slightly to Howard’s left or right. As the dribbler’s defender starts moving laterally, Howard will step, slide or extend a forearm into the defender’s path. Heck, sometimes he does all three on the same pick. That’s a TRUMP, or triple uncalled moving pick.

If Howard can obstruct the defender with a legal stationary screen, he’ll do so. But if he has to move left to prevent the defender from getting “over” the screen cleanly, he’ll do that. If he has to slide right to prevent the defender from going “under” the screen cleanly and picking up the dribbler on the other side, Howard often will roll to the basket before the defender has a chance to get past him. Those are obvious fouls, but we can forgive Howard for thinking that both tactics are perfectly legal given that he draws so few whistles — maybe one for every 40 moving picks.

Of course, two can play this game, so sometimes it’s a Magic player taking UMP lumps. On January 24, backup point guard Anthony Johnson was on the receiving end of a different kind of TRUMP, as Miami’s Jamaal Magloire clipped him with three consecutive single UMPs on the same possession, starting at 9:03 of the second quarter. On each occasion he made a late lateral move to obstruct AJ. The first freed Chris Quinn for a jumper, and when the Heat retrieved the miss and kicked it back to Quinn, Magloire executed two more UMPs, the second of which drew a whistle. On Johnson, who had the unmitigated gall to negate the effect of the illegal moving pick by grabbing Quinn.

A fascinating aspect of this epidemic of UMPing is that it takes place out in the open, at a leisurely pace, with one or more refs staring at the play. It’s impossible to miss — unless you’ve been trained to miss it.

Back when the NBA operated with two sighted refs rather than three blind ones, such blatant moving picks would draw whistles. Actually, they would rarely be attempted, because players would know from experience that Richie Powers, Mendy Rudolph, Earl Strom or Jake O’Donnell — and even the run-of-the-mill refs — would catch nearly all of the obvious moving picks and many of the subtle ones.

Modern refs suffer from a peculiar form of blindness: self-blindness. You see, the geniuses who run the NBA have decided that the best way to officiate is to watch only the defender. So while I’m observing Howard (or Kevin Garnett) moving four-feet laterally on a pick, Bob Delaney is zeroed in on the defender to see if he’s doing anything nefarious to the dribbler as he maneuvers around the moving pick that Delaney has been trained not to see.

This criticism is not aimed at Howard, nor at the refs, most of whom, maybe all, would do perfectly fine if properly trained. It’s aimed at the people at the top who are responsible for how the rules are interpreted and how the refs are taught to enforce them.

If David Stern, Stu Jackson and Ronnie Nunn ran security for banks and 7-Eleven stores, the security cameras would be aimed exclusively at the clerk behind the counter. Far better to record on tape his or her frightened reaction than such irrelevant information as the face, size, body movement and weapon of the robber.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

What Dwight can learn from Sergio
One can go overboard with golf-to-basketball analogies, but I’ve got one that will change Dwight Howard’s career.

A common flaw among dreadful golfers is the tendency to “hit from the top.” Also known as “casting,” as in casting a fishing line, a golfer who hits from the top breaks his wrists at the top of his backswing. In so doing, he loses power and accuracy while reducing his chances of making solid contact on a consistent basis. To make progress, he will have to learn to “retain the angle” late into the downswing — that is, keep his wrists cocked until they approach the hitting zone.

Sergio Garcia is renowned for retaining the angle, and he’s one of the best ball strikers in the world. (Putting, alas, is another story.)

A decidedly uncommon flaw among NBA players is the basketball equivalent of hitting from the top: a premature unhinging of.the flexed wrist of the shooting hand. Howard has it, and it’s been especially obvious (at least to me) this season and last.

(to be continued)

See here for a lengthy analysis:
What Dwight can learn from Tiger

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Analogies that illuminate Dwight Howard’s free-throw woes
A candidate in a tight race has much greater confidence in a poll with a margin of error of plus or minus three percentage points than a poll so flawed that its margin of error stretches 12 points in each direction. Well, a free-throw stroke that consistently produces a shot that travels about 15 feet, plus or minus three inches, is far more accurate than one whose margin of distance-related error is plus or minus 12 inches. If you’ve watched Howard shoot free throws, you know his directional accuracy is pretty good but that he has no idea how far the ball is going to travel.

As I’ve explained before, Howard was a fine free-throw shooter until his second pro season, when the Magic’s coaching staff started monkeying around with his shooting style.

Think of the Magic as Howard’s doctor and his stroke as his heart. A smart doctor will leave a healthy heart in the patient’s body. This doctor, however, removed Howard’s healthy heart, then compounded the blunder by replacing it with a diseased one! Howard’s putrid percentages, which have been even worse in the 2007 and 2008 playoffs and the Olympics than in the last three regular seasons, in which he never reached 60 percent, suggest that his body is rejecting the transplant even as his brain tries gamely to convince himself that all is well.

Stay tuned for an essay relating Howard’s free-throw saga to the monster created by Dr. Frankenstein.

Saturday, June 07, 2008

Senate Intelligence Committee confirms what I proved BEFORE the war: Bush team not only was erroneous; in many instances it was deceitful

Here’s a portion of a story in the June 6 Washington Post:

"In making the case for war, the administration repeatedly presented intelligence as fact when it was unsubstantiated, contradicted or even nonexistent," Sen. John D. Rockefeller IV (D-W.Va.), the committee chairman, said at a news conference. "As a result, the American people were led to believe that the threat from Iraq was much greater than actually existed."

The report, the last and most contentious of a series of Senate reviews of prewar intelligence, sought to compare the administration's public claims about Iraq with the intelligence reports available to them at the time. While many of the White House's statements -- such as Bush's warnings about a secret Iraqi nuclear program -- were amply supported by intelligence files at the time, the report said, others were not.

Bush and other administration officials strayed far from official intelligence reports when it came to describing alleged ties between al-Qaeda and Hussein, the report said. It cited repeated statements by Bush, including his Oct. 7, 2002, Cincinnati speech in which he alleged that Iraq had "trained al-Qaeda members in bomb-making" and had maintained "high-level contacts that go back a decade."

The report said that "statements and indications by the president and secretary of state suggesting that Iraq and al-Qaeda had a partnership, or that Iraq had provided al-Qaeda with weapons training, were not substantiated by the intelligence."
Approved by eight Democrats and two Republicans on the 15-member committee, the report also highlights an October 2002 claim by then-Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld that Iraq had concealed its stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction in underground bunkers too deep to be destroyed by air power alone. Rumsfeld, in testimony to the Senate Armed Services Committee, had told senators that U.S. officials did "know where a fraction" of Hussein's banned weapons were, adding that a "good many are underground and deeply buried," suggesting that ground forces were required to destroy them. His statement contradicted intelligence at the time that no such facilities were known to exist, the report states.

Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Ore.), a committee member, called for a separate investigation of Rumsfeld's statements, which he said appeared intended to drive support for an invasion. "This is stunning: The secretary of defense, testifying before Congress about whether or not ground forces would be strategically necessary in a war against Iraq, said the executive branch 'knew' something that it did not know," he said.
[end of story excerpt]

Here’s a bit of what I wrote before the war:

Grifter-in-Chief Bush Aided by Media’s Wusses of Mass Credulity (Oct 19, 2002)

Bush Is Racking Up “Frequent Liar Miles” (Jan 18, 2003)

The Evidence Bush is Withholding Weakens, Not Strengthens the Case for War (Jan 28, 2003)

An Open Letter to the U.N. About Colin Powell (Feb 4, 2003 — pre-U.N. presentation)

Lying Us Into War: Exposing Bush and His “Techniques of Deceit” (Feb 10, 2003)

I’m Calling You Out: Marching Orders for Journalists, Officials and Celebrities Who Believe in “Informed Consent of the Governed” (Feb 19, 2003)

Public’s Pro-Inspections Posture Mostly M.I.A. on Talking-Heads TV (Feb 28, 2003)

The Disinformation Age: How George W. Bush and Saint Colin of Powell are lying America into an unnecessary war — and what honest journalists can do about it (March 4, 2003)

How to Deter Bush’s Fibbing and Hoopsters’ Flopping (March 14, 2003)

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Wilt Decrees End of Spurs Dynasty:
Chamberlain and his fellow Hoop Gods add Popovich to list of coaches condemned to a ringless future for their hack-a-bricklayer antics


The San Antonio Spurs will never win another championship so long as Gregg Popovich remains with the organization. He will not add to his total of four rings this season or anytime soon because he angered the Hoop Gods — particularly their leader — by repeatedly resorting to off-the-ball intentional fouls against Shaquille O’Neal in the first round of the Western Conference playoffs.

From their perch in the Great B-Ball Beyond, the Hoop Gods take seriously their responsibility as guardians of the game. When they see coaches making a travesty of their sport and turning off fans, when they see NBA executives too clueless to fix a rule that invites look-at-me coaches to bring a rhythmic, entertaining game to a screeching halt, they impose their own brand of justice.

Chamberlain, a highly sensitive giant who shot an abysmal .465 from the line in the playoffs, arrived in Hoop Heaven on October 12, 1999 and immediately established himself as the dominant force among the Hoop Gods. Beginning with the 1999-2000 season, he’s made it his mission to make life miserable for the Hack-a-Bricklayer coaches: no rings and much humiliation for them, many rings for the players they’ve sought to embarrass.

The grafs above are from an early draft of an essay that has since been revised and updated and can be found here.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

Battier fails to escape first round AGAIN
Shane Battier never won a playoff game in 12 tries with Memphis. He’s never won a playoff series with Houston, though at least he’s been on the winning side in individual games, having won 3 of 7 last season and 2 of 6 this season. I’ll have more to say on this later, but he is a major reason for the failure of his pro teams to win meaningful games.

Battier is a wonderful fellow and I like his politics (we're both backing Obama), but he’s a Top Five underdeveloped underachiever. Ninety percent of his offensive game consists of an impression of Little Jack Horner. The only difference is that Shane is standing in the corner while Jack prefers to sit. I realize this is by design — the design of his various coaches — but the reason Shane meekly goes along is because of his woefully inadequate game inside the arc. He plays along with the common perception that he has limited natural ability, but in truth he has more than enough coordination, touch and athleticism to have a fine, varied game. The fact that he doesn’t is the fault of Shane and a string of coaches, starting with that overrated icon at Duke.

Shane’s career playoff scoring average is a paltrey 8.2 points in 33.3 minutes. If he had developed his game in his younger days he'd have double the average. And by having that well-rounded game his playoff minutes would be up as well. He should be an 18 points in 40 minutes guy, not an 8 in 33. If he were the player he's capable of being, his postseason record wouldn't be 5 wins and 25 losses.

Mike Woodson’s dumb Game 5 mistake
Perhaps if Mike Woodson had not served as an assistant coach under Larry Brown, he would not have cost the Hawks their best chance at victory in Game 5 by sitting Joe Johnson for nearly 10 first half minutes with two measly fouls. He finished the game with three. The Celtics spurted while Johnson sat.

Brown has an even more abnormal fear of losing a player to fouls than did his coaching mentor, Dean Smith. Brown coaches as if he has a bonus clause that says he gets $10,000 every time one of his starters finishes the game with three or fewer fouls. This approach has cost his team dearly in the playoffs. If Karl Malone hadn’t been playing on one leg it might have cost the Pistons the 2004 title and Brown his only NBA ring, as I explained here.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

My quick-fix for Dwight Howard’s persistent free-throw woes
You can read my analysis here.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

The NBA’s real integrity problem:
Thirty years ago, Red Auerbach called out players and coaches who cheat. The league has yet to act.


By Dennis Hans

In the wake of the Tim Donaghy gambling-ref scandal, NBA Commissioner David Stern spoke of reaffirming “our covenant with our fans;” a key pillar of which is that “our games are decided on their merits.”

Alas, often that is not the case, even if it turns out that Donaghy never attempted to influence the win-loss outcome (as opposed to the point total or point spread) of a single game. The NBA’s covenant with its fans has long been broken because the commissioner’s definition of “integrity” is as narrow as the president’s.

While campaigning for president in 2000, George W. Bush repeatedly pledged to restore honor and integrity to the White House in one breath and lied about taxes and Social Security in the next. Once in office, Bush demonstrated his honor and integrity by remaining faithful to his wife as he lied the country into war. I documented his administration’s “techniques of deceit” prior to the invasion of Iraq in a series of essays, including this prescient masterpiece.

Stern is no liar; in fact, he’s much more the “plain-spoken straight shooter” that Bush pretends to be but is not. But Stern shares Bush’s gift for compartmentalization, which enables him, on the issue of NBA integrity or lack thereof, to miss the player-coach-announcer forest for the Donaghy twig.

What has undermined the league for years is disreputable players deceiving honest refs into making bogus calls. This has led to an unknown number of games being decided on something other than their merits.

For 23 years Stern’s silence has implicitly condoned flopping, flailing, diving, leg-kicks and unnatural arm-lifts by shooters (the two fastest growing forms of cheating), and other fool-the-ref techniques employed to gain unmerited free throws and/or saddle key foes with unmerited foul trouble and unmerited bench time in pursuit of unmerited victory. The problem is perpetuated by coaches who teach or at least condone these tactics and by broadcasting clowns who praise the deceivers and thus teach the next generation of hoopsters that this is how a true pro plays the game.

Would a devout guy like Ben Gordon become a leg-kicking devotee (the main reason for his dramatic increase in free-throw attempts, from 3.4 per game in 2005-06 to 5.4 last season) without this chorus of seemingly respectable people condoning this stuff?

These devious tactics — and the sordid strategy I call “minutes shaving,” where you use deceit to prevent an opponent from getting his regular playing time — win games. Fans know it, which is why they roar whenever a real or bogus foul sends Tim Duncan, Amare Stoudemire, Shaquille O’Neal or some other star to the bench. (Even if the benching foul is legit, if an earlier one was bogus then it is the bogus one that made the difference, because without it the guy would still be on the court.)

Big guys are whistled for legit fouls at a high rate because of the requirements of their position and the perverse nature of the modern NBA game, as I explained in this 2006 essay. Thus, it may only take one early fraudulent foul added to the player’s accumulating total to transform an active, splendid 42-minute night into a half-active, half-cautious 30-minute night — and a likely win into a frustrating loss.


A court document in the Donaghy case
noted that “NBA referees are subject to a collective bargaining agreement and to rules of conduct set by the NBA. Those rules of conduct require that NBA referees conduct themselves according to the highest standards of honesty, integrity, and professionalism . . . .”

Unfortunately, Stern holds players to no standard of on-court integrity (though he does have zero tolerance for such serious stuff as untucked jerseys). His legacy is an ethics-free league where blatant forms of cheating are not called cheating but are elevated to legitimate basketball “skills,” on a par with dribbling and shooting.

It’s not like the league is unaware of its problem. Last season, an occasional question on Director of Officials Ronnie Nunn’s weekly show on NBA-TV, in the segment where he and his guests reviewed difficult calls from the preceding week, was “Block, charge, or flop?” Nunn’s predecessor, Ed T. Rush, told Charley Rosen in 2003 that “There's a long list of veteran players whose sideline game is ‘fool the ref.’" Such players “are extremely good at things like flopping or pulling an opponent down on top of them. . . . The younger officials are more susceptible to being fooled than the veterans.”

Indeed, though I’d add that plenty of experienced refs are susceptible, and there’s a long list of young players in addition to the veterans with a bag of fool-the-ref tricks.

A “cheater’s tax” to eliminate fool-the-ref deceit
In today’s NBA you can cheat without ever having to think of yourself as a cheater, which explains why so many of the best, like Gordon, are fine, upstanding citizens in their non-basketball lives. The likes of Derek Fisher, Robert Horry, Chauncey Billups, Anderson Verajao, Reggie Evans, Raja Bell, Mehmet Okur, the Collins twins, Andres Nocioni and Desmond Mason — among many others — might be reluctant to go into their act if they knew every leg kick and every flop, dive or flail from incidental, imaginary or self-initiated contact would get them compared to the latest blood doper or steroid user And they’d really be reluctant if their team had to pay a “cheater’s tax” every time a ref thought one of them had just tried to pull a fast one.

I recommend a one-point tax for players without a cheating reputation and a two-point tax for established cheaters, who deserve to be in a higher tax bracket. The points would be added immediately to the other team’s score. This, in my view, is superior to a technical-foul penalty, advocated by Jeff Van Gundy and some anonymous current refs (who bargained away their free-speech rights to Stern and thus cannot speak publicly on officiating issues without a permission slip), because there’s no prolonged stoppage in play for a free throw and the penalty is a sure thing. It would all but eliminate this nonsense and might do wonders for the NBA “brand” — a key concern for the image-obsessed and basketball-clueless commissioner.

Repeat offenders, along with their enabling coaches, could be suspended for 10 games or so. If a player still refuses to clean up his act, ban the bum for life. No one will miss him, and every young hoopster contemplating a career as an NBA con man will get the message.

Broadcasters for cheating
Speaking of Van Gundy, he was a breath of fresh air this past postseason, expressing on ABC and ESPN his contempt for floppers. But his appearance was a fluke — a result of the Rockets’ early playoff exit and the networks’ odd desire to add a coach with TV experience to their broadcasts. The Disney subsidiaries could just as easily have saddled viewers with the equally qualified Doc Rivers, a proud flopper as a player and long-time proponent of the view that fool-the-ref tricks are legit b-ball skills. (When Rivers and Van Gundy were co-analysts for a 2006 playoff game, Van Gundy joked about how much he appreciated Rivers’ flops when he played for Pat Riley’s Knicks and Van Gundy was an assistant coach, thus demonstrating that even he subscribes to the situational-ethics philosophy that so many coaches live by.)

The majority of ABC/ESPN broadcasts don’t include Van Gundy, and here is what we typically hear whenever a con artist goes into his act: Mark Jackson and Mike Breen praising his salesmanship as he dives out of bounds to draw a bogus rebounding foul or collapses from marginal — and thus legal — contact. On the league’s other broadcast partner, TNT, Reggie Miller, John Thompson and 1970s flopper Doug Collins will compliment a trickster for a “smart, veteran play” as he kicks out a leg to draw an unmerited shooting foul. Heck, Magic Johnson might even salute him for playing the game “the right way”! He did just that for Miller — arguably the most prolific cheater in NBA history.

A great game degenerates on Stern’s watch
On-court cheating didn’t begin with Stern’s tenure. But it has increased, diversified and gained widespread acceptance under his ostrich-style watch, which commenced in 1984.

Stern inherited from predecessor Larry O’Brien a fast-paced, free-flowing, wonderful game. The great Celtics-Lakers finals of 1984, 1985 and 1987 featured an occasional endangering cheapshot — usually by a Celtic — but were generally flop-free affairs. Yes, Detroit’s Bill Laimbeer and other floppers littered the NBA landscape, but back then he was widely despised because of his flopping. If he were playing today, the Inside the NBA show would invite him to demonstrate his techniques on one of its ludicrous TNT Fundamentals segments.

Typically, Fundamentals isn’t devoted to fool-the-ref tricks. Instead, it unintentionally highlights another aspect of Stern’s disastrous stewardship, as TNT’s chosen experts demonstrate how to brazenly break the rules in plain sight while counting on Ronnie Nunn’s refs to take the violator’s side. Last season, Carlos Boozer demonstrated how to dislodge a low-post defender, Sam Cassell how to create shooting space by pushing off and (via replay highlight) how to draw a shooting foul by jumping into an airborne defender who’s not remotely in your space, and Shane Battier how to draw a bogus charge by sliding over late and relying on the ref to make a bad call. Battier didn’t put it quite that way, but a majority of the segment’s dozen or so replay highlights of his so-called “defense” should have been blocks, not charges. Even his how-to demonstration with teammate Steve Novak was a late-arriving, leaning-and-sliding block!

The frequency with which conscientious refs botch those particular calls suggests that the problem is not with the refs but with the guidance and directives from their supervisors and, even more so, from the Rules and Competition Committee headed by Stern’s tone-deaf vice president, Stu Jackson. (Another Bush-Stern parallel: when it comes to senior staffers, both leaders place greater value on loyalty to the boss than competence.) Yes, refs in the pre-Stern era missed their share of calls, but at least the rules they imperfectly enforced made common sense. Dislodging wasn’t a legit “move”; therefore, thin centers could guard powerful ones and neither guy would be at undue risk for foul trouble. If a shooter on the perimeter took an unnatural jump into an airborne defender, chances were good he’d be called for an offensive foul. The pump fake was a tool to get free for a shot, not a license to jump sideways or abnormally forward and collect an automatic reward of two or more free throws.

With Stern at the helm, the NBA followed one of its best decades, the Eighties, with its worst. With each passing season the game became increasingly more slow, brutal and boring. The league hit its ethical low point in the 1996 Finals, when Dennis Rodman’s incessant successful flopping made a joke of the game, the refs and the commissioner — and tainted the Bulls’ title. These days the game is still played at a snail’s pace by many teams. And while NBA ball is slightly less brutal than in the Nineties and the first few seasons of this decade, today’s game is actually far more dangerous, thanks to recent rule changes that reward undercutting, as I explained in this Letter to Ronnie Nunn. So cheating is just one of the on-court problems that has worsened under Stern.

Red erupts over 1970s flopping explosion
A decade before Stern took command, Bill Bradley chronicled the 1973-74 season in his insightful diary Life On the Run. Here’s what he said about the Chicago Bulls distinctive brand of defense: “They fall down in front of offensive players at the slightest brush” (p. 53).

Dick Motta’s Bulls, led by Jerry Sloan, had actually been playing that way for a few seasons. Back then flopping was fairly new — and much more common at the college level than in the NBA, where only the Bulls were making a joke of the game by relying so heavily on the odious tactic. But it was just a matter of time before it spread throughout the league.

One of the first to cry “Enough!” was the legendary Red Auerbach. To be sure, Auerbach was no paragon of virtue in his 16 seasons (1950-66) as coach of the Celtics. For example, he didn’t seem the least bit troubled that his original “sixth man,” the great Frank Ramsey, was the first NBA player with a fool-the-refs obsession. Nevertheless, by 1976 there were so many players performing for the refs that even Auerbach was disgusted. So he devoted an edition of his CBS halftime feature, Red on Roundball, to flopping and another tactic Motta (a terrrific, underrated offensive coach) brought from the college ranks that Red rightly considered bad for basketball: help defenders running to the spot where an airborne driver is likely to land, in hopes of drawing an unwarranted charging foul. (Our discussion will stick to the flopping part of the segment, but it’s worth noting that Red had no use for Battier-style defense even before the future Dukie was born!)

First, Auerbach had Mike Riordan demonstrate how an offensive player can “fake a foul” by setting a screen and then collapsing convincingly from slight contact that ordinarily wouldn’t cause him to budge. Next, Clem Haskins showed how a defender can use the same no-resistance technique to draw a bogus foul from a dribbler. Those displays set the stage for Red’s rant:

“Coaches today — in high school, college and pro — are teaching the players how to fall. This is unreal. They’re teaching them how to fall! . . . I’m very, very much opposed to this type of basketball.”

Auerbach said his critique was not directed at referees. “It’s aimed at coaches. It’s aimed at players. What are we going to do about it? Let’s clean this thing up. Let’s not hurt the game.”

Alas, the NBA didn’t clean it up, and the game is still hurting. At least that’s how Red (in his after-coaching life) would see it. But he was old school. For a modern, sophisticated, Stern Era outlook on fool-the-ref deceit, let’s turn to the Suns’ much-admired two-time MVP, Steve Nash.

But let’s first recall that, like me, the anti-war point guard had a low opinion of the fool-the-citizenry deceit employed by Bush, Colin Powell and other senior officials as they repeatedly presented unproven and implausible allegations about Iraqi WMD and links to al Qaeda as established facts. Is it Nash’s credo that “All is fair in love and sports, but not war”? Read on.

The perfect Stern-Era MVP
It’s Game 5 of the 2007 Suns-Spurs series — the infamous “suspension” game, with Amare Stoudemire and Boris Diaw out for the Suns on an absurd technicality and instigator Robert Horry out for the Spurs.

In the minds of most fair-minded fans, those facts mean that it is impossible for the Spurs to win this game on Stern’s beloved “merits.” (Then again, this fair-minded fan thinks the Suns stole Game 4 with a furious comeback fueled by a fourth-quarter flop fest that robbed the Spurs of possessions and put Duncan alternately on the bench and on egg shells. Then yet again, Stoudemire spent most of the series in foul trouble, and it’s possible the Spurs — who employ Horry and two award-winning Argentinian actors — had a conscious strategy of performing for the refs in hopes of blunting the lethal weapon that wreaked such havoc in the 2005 playoffs.)

Even though this is only the Western Conference semifinals, because these are clearly the league’s two best remaining teams this game may very well determine the NBA championship. The series is tied 2-2, and tonight’s winner will be in the driver’s seat.

The Suns are ahead by 5 with 3:10 remaining when Nash is whistled for a shooting foul as Manu Ginobili fires and misses from beyond the arc. Ginobili makes all three free throws, keeping the Spurs rally alive and providing the ultimate margin of victory (88-85).

After the game, Nash commented on that critical play and Ginobili’s ability to appear to be fouled even when he isn’t:

"Manu's great at that stuff. I really admire it. When I say that, I don't say it with any disrespect. I don't know if I fouled him or not. I just felt like when I ran to him, I was like, 'Pressure his shot, and don't foul him,' and the next thing you know, I was on top of him. I don't know if he pulled and kicked a bit, but it was a terrific play, unless I just fouled him."

I take Nash at his word. He and his coaches and some of his 2006-07 teammates (not clean-playing Stoudemire and Shawn Marion but definitely Raja Bell and Reggie Miller-protégé James Jones) subscribe to the whatever-it-takes ethos that is rampant in Stern’s NBA, where only the easily suckered refs are expected to be honest.

Nash thinks this is cool, that tricking the refs is basketball at its most elevated and sophisticated. Auerbach, however, is rolling over in his grave. What does Stern think? Isn’t it time he pulled his head out of the sand and took a stand? Does the NBA’s global ambassador really want to be remembered for teaching the world how to wink at and legitimize cheating?

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

KG goes to Boston
Here is my take on the Kevin Garnett trade: Garnett must change to lead Celts to crown.

It's time for KG to dare to be great and stop settling for being, at both ends of the floor, merely very good, albeit consistently very good. In the piece I explain why Tim Duncan has a much greater defensive impact than does KG, and what KG needs to try to do to close the impact gap. I don't think KG is capable of Duncan's level of excellence as a goalie-style defender, but if he accepts the challenge and proves to be nearly as good, the Celts become legit title contenders.

Saturday, June 30, 2007

When Mr. Blackwell Meets Mr. Shaqwell
This sartorial satire ran in slightly different form in the Oct. 16, 2005 New York Times. Here is the original link.

New York Times
Oct. 16, 2005

When Mr. Blackwell Meets Mr. Shaqwell
The Fashion Police Arrive in the N.B.A.

By Dennis Hans


Word on the street is NBA commissioner David Stern has enlisted Shaquille O’Neal in his campaign to rid the league of players who wear sloppy, jockish or otherwise unbusinesslike attire when out of uniform and in the public eye.

Stern will do his part by fining any player who frightens small children and offends red-state sensibilities by donning a throwback jersey, blue jeans, sneakers or, God forbid, a do-rag. O’Neal, via his “Mr. Shaqwell” persona, will turn dress-code violators into laughingstocks with witty put-downs in the tradition of Mr. Blackwell, the Hollywood designer known world-wide for his annual list of the “Ten Worst Dressed Women.”

O’Neal first unveiled Mr. Shaqwell last spring, when he nearly brought veteran TNT sports reporter Craig Sager to tears with nasty comments — in both pre- and post-game interviews — about Sager’s eye-catching neon-orange sportcoat and matching tie.

Although O’Neal enjoys skewering contemporaries, he knows his history and has always treated trailblazers with the utmost respect. He befriended George Mikan, basketball’s first highly skilled skyscraper and superstar, hailing the Laker legend for paving the way for future giants, including himself. Well, what Mikan was to centers, Mr. Blackwell is to rappers.

As O’Neal and anyone else who has ever cut a rap CD knows, a staple of the genre is the rhyming insult. Long before the first hip-hop MC picked up a mic to put someone down, the wicked fashion critic was composing rhymes that sliced and diced stylistically challenged celebrities. Without Mr. Blackwell, there is no Snoop, Cube or Shaqwell.

And he’s still at the top of his game. Here is Mr. Blackwell’s verdict on Jessica and Ashlee Simpson: “From gaudy, to grim, to downright frenetic — these two prove that bad taste is positively genetic!” As for this year’s worst-dressed winner, Nicollette Sheridan of Desperate Housewives infamy: “In barely-there bombs she’s a taste-free pain — let’s crown her the Tacky Temptress of Wisteria Lane!”

O’Neal holds a master’s degree in law enforcement, so he’s a natural to walk the NBA’s fashion-cop beat. Informed sources say Mr. Shaqwell has already prepared the following zingers for the league’s most notorious sartorial stinkers, all of whom are prime candidates for hefty dress-code fines:

• With worn-out jeans and long, greasy hair, the Suns’ Stevie Nash is a grungy nightmare.

• A.I. [Allen Iverson] “keeps it real” with his gangsta attire, but if I said he looked sharp I’d be a 7-foot liar.

• Tim Duncan is to bland what tuna is to canned. He buys his threads at the Big & Tall store, in a special section marked “Dressed to Bore.”

• Mark Cuban is rollin’ in dough, but his jock-wannabe jerseys scream “Just say no!”

• Tom Tolbert’s turtle-neck chic can’t disguise the fact he’s a pencil-neck geek.

Mr. Shaqwell has also penned a put-down of a coat-and-tie coach who, in more ways than one, simply doesn’t measure up: “The only thing sadder than vile Hack-a-Shaq is Jeff Van Gundy as a Munchkin in Black.”

Catty, to be sure. But Mr. Blackwell believes Mr. Shaqwell has a long way to go — and not just as a fashion critic: “It’s not just his free throws that leave much to be desired. If he plays D like he disses, it’s time he retired!”

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Verajao wins my “Blanche DuBois Defender of the Year” award

In his Courtside Blog for the San Antonio Express-News, Richard Oliver cites my recent piece on the Cavs' Anderson Verajao, who's in San Antone for tonight's first game of the NBA Finals. (Scroll down Oliver's blog to the section “Flopping on the Deck.”)

As I explain in the essay,

The honor goes to the player who best exemplifies the fundamental characteristics of Ms. DuBois, the tragic figure of Tennessee Williams’ stage and screen masterpiece, “A Streetcar Named Desire”: dependence on “the kindness of strangers” and a preference for “illusion” over “realism.”

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

Blanche said it, and Verajao lives it. The strangers he depends on are the NBA’s Rules and Competition Committee (RCC), headed by Executive Vice President Stu Jackson, as well as the referees who enforce the Committee’s rules, interpretations and “points of emphasis.”

As I’ve shown in a series of articles dating back to 2001 (which I recount in this December 2006 open letter to Director of Officials Ronnie Nunn), under Jackson’s seven-year stewardship the RCC has shown ever-increasing kindness toward late-arriving or still-sliding help defenders (who will often make a late lateral slide or hop in reaction to evasive action the driver has taken to avoid the charge seeker), whistling innocent offensive players for charging as promiscuously as Blanche slept with young men after her husband’s suicide.


The preference for illusion over realism and a willingness to, as Blanche puts it, “misrepresent things,” leads into a discussion of flopping, and Verajao is on record acknowledging that he sometimes exaggerates the force of an opponent’s contact. That makes the ref’s job nearly impossible, because he has to distinguish legal “marginal contact” — a common occurrence in NBA games — from contact that merits a foul.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

My 2005 NY Times essay showing that a super-fast pace and NBA titles have often gone hand-in-hand

Here is the original link.

New York Times
January 9, 2005

Phoenix Pays a Little Homage to Much Faster Times
By DENNIS HANS


The Phoenix Suns are a much-needed breath of fresh air for an N.B.A. that remains far too bruising and boring. After 32 games, they were averaging a league-best 109.3 points, an astonishing 7.9 points more a game than the Dallas Mavericks, ranked No. 2 in that category.

But for those who become winded watching Steve Nash and his buddies run up and down the court, consider this: The Suns average 85 field-goal attempts a game. The 1960 N.B.A. champion Boston Celtics averaged 120.

Take a minute to let that sink in. We're talking 41 percent more attempts than today's run-and-gun Suns. On average, the 1959-60 Celtics would hit the Suns' average of 85 attempts with two minutes remaining in the third quarter.

The Suns are headed in the right direction, and I hope they run all the way to the N.B.A. title. Nothing would make me happier than Mike D'Antoni becoming a coaching role model.

D'Antoni learned the game from his father, a legendary high school coach in West Virginia whose teams turned on the crowd by running the opposition right out of the gym. It was a style that kept the focus on the players on the floor, not on the "genius coach" on the sideline. Most important, it was a style that made kids want to play basketball.

Critics say the Suns cannot race their way to an N.B.A. title, but the record shows D'Antoni is on the right track. The Suns' up-tempo style is reminiscent of that of the greatest teams in history, most of which ran at every opportunity and led the league in scoring or field-goal attempts or were near the top. The greatest team over a prolonged stretch - the Bill Russell-era Celtics of 1957 to 1969 - won 11 titles in 13 seasons. They led the league in field-goal attempts every season from 1959 to 1965 and won the title each of those seven years.

Two of the greatest single-season teams, the 1967 Sixers and the 1972 Lakers, each led by Wilt Chamberlain in his moderate-scoring phase, led the league in scoring. The Sixers averaged 125 points, on an average of 100 field-goal attempts, and the Lakers averaged 121 points, on 98 field-goal attempts, each without benefit of a 3-point shot.

When Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Oscar Robertson joined forces for the 1970-71 season, they led the Bucks to the scoring title (at 118.4 points a game) and the N.B.A. title.

Magic Johnson's Lakers and Larry Bird's Celtics were always near the top in scoring, and those teams combined to win eight titles from 1980 to 1988, when the league scoring average was about 110. The other title team in that stretch - the 1983 Philadelphia 76ers, led by Moses Malone and Julius Erving - ran its way to a 112 average.

The N.B.A.'s second-greatest dynasty, the Michael Jordan-era Bulls from 1991 to 1998, led the league in scoring in two title seasons and scored well above the league average in each of its six championship years. That team also served as a beacon in the dark days of the slow-paced Thug Era, first by dethroning the Bad Boy Pistons, then by serving as the worst nightmare for Pat Riley's Broadway Bullies.

In comparing today's go-go Suns and the early-1960's Celtics, it must be noted that the Boston teams played in a league without the 3-point shot. If we convert the Suns' 9.1 successful treys per game a game to 2-pointers, their scoring average would plummet to 100.2. The lowest-scoring team in the 1960's, the 1969 Bulls, averaged 104.7.

To be fair to the Suns, a portion of their staggering field-goal-attempt deficit compared with the early 1960's Celtics is not their fault. Rather, it is a reflection of the walk-it-up, milk-the-clock, prevent-fast-breaks-at-all-costs philosophy of some opposing teams shackled by control-freak coaches. (Thankfully, their numbers are dwindling, and a few of the worst offenders have started to lighten their grip.)

Such coaches did not haunt the league when Red Auerbach was running the Celtics. The closest thing to a slow-down team in 1960 was the Cincinnati Royals, and they fired 104 field-goal attempts a game, 22 percent more than today's beep-beep Suns.

Fans of the Suns can take comfort in another feature of the early Celtics: their running did not prevent them from being a great defensive team. That greatness was predicated on quickness, which they had in abundance.

Alas, the Suns do not have Bill Russell as their last line of defense, but they do have active, athletic players who get their hands on an awful lot of passes, dribbles and shots. If the Suns can remain above average in field-goal defense and sustain that in the playoffs, their efficient, reasonably brisk offense could carry them to the N.B.A. crown.

The 2005 crown, that is. The 1960 Celtics would run them right off the floor.

Dennis Hans is a writer who lives in Florida.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Barney Fife and David Stern
In my latest HoopsHype column, Insane ruling leaves Spurs-Suns unsettled, I draw a parallel between NBA commissioner David Stern, his VP Stu Jackson and Deputy Barney Fife. Here’s an excerpt:

David Stern and Stu Jackson point solemnly to the “red letter” rules governing players stepping on the court when an altercation breaks out or going into the stands under any circumstances. The commissioner and his executive vice president remind me of Deputy Barney Fife, who could always be counted on to make a mess of things in Mayberry through rigid enforcement of some silly, poorly crafted law whenever Sheriff Andy Taylor was away. Like Stern and Jackson, by-the-book Barney ranked “correctness” above “fairness.” Soon the whole town would be in an uproar until sensible, fair-minded Andy returned to clear up the mess and restore sanity.

That’s why I’m proposing that Stern be immediately replaced by Sheriff Andy Taylor. Yes, I realize he’s a fictional TV character from the early 1960s. But we could get a young actor with a Carolina twang to portray him, and his modus operandi would be to ask himself before every basketball decision, What would Andy do?


And here’s a piece from a couple of weeks ago explaining Golden State’s upset of Dallas: Baron, luck and (maybe) subconscious racism propel Warriors.

Monday, April 23, 2007

Steve Nash, SI’s Chris Ballard, endorse my expansive view of athleticism
Appropo my 2001 essay on athleticism in the April 18 post, which elicited a bunch of comments courtesy of a link by ESPN NBA blogger Henry Abbott, here is Sports Illustrated’s Chris Ballard, along with Steve Nash, discussing Nash the athlete:

Which brings up the biggest misconception about Nash: that he is an overachieving nonathlete who has made good mostly on smarts and hustle. But to suggest that Nash isn't a good athlete is to define athlete in the narrowest fashion. In many ways Nash is one of the best athletes in the NBA. He probably could have played professional soccer (his brother, Martin, does), and he was an excellent youth hockey player. "He wins at pretty much everything he does," says Whitley, who lists arm wrestling and beer chugging as the only two events in which he can take Nash. "He won't pick up a golf club for nine months, and then he'll shoot in the low 80s. His hand-eye coordination is amazing."

To Nash, the rap on him is a matter of semantics. "In our business people always equate athleticism with explosiveness, not with coordination, agility, footwork or creativity," he says. "I know I could learn to do anything, basically. I've always been able to pick things up athletically, even though I might not be dunking the ball." Even that last statement is not entirely true. At a practice two months ago Nash surprised teammates by dunking twice, once with his left hand off his right foot and once off two feet on an alley-oop from Raja Bell. Neither dunk, Nash takes pains to point out, was what one would call thunderous. "But," he says, "just barely still counts."


Back in 2003, long before Nash earned his first MVP, I wrote about his underrated athleticism — and the woeful lack of athleticism of some of his Mav teammates — for Inside Hoops and Mike Fisher's DallasBasketball website. Here’s a sample:

NATURAL NASH: How Steve Nash Ranks as an NBA Athlete
By Dennis Hans

April 29, 2003

As the Dallas Mavericks trounced the Minnesota Timberwolves on ABC March 30, Bill Walton observed that Mavs point guard Steve Nash has “as little physical ability as any player in the NBA.”

Wake up and smell the incense, Bill. Nash is fast, quick, elusive and super-coordinated. He’s got great hands and a soft touch. He’s one of the top penetrators in the game, and even though he’s a righthander he can drive and finish with his left hand as well as or better than any natural lefty.

Like everyone else playing point guard in the NBA, Nash has labored long and hard to master the many skills his demanding position requires. But so did tens of thousands of college playmakers who never reached the NBA, let alone started, let alone earned a spot in the All-Star Game. Many of those NBA wannabees had the the requisite smarts and dedication, but they lacked that other indispensable quality possessed by Nash and every other standout NBA playmaker: oodles of talent.

Like most point guards, Nash is considerably shorter and lighter than the average NBA player. Perhaps that explains Walton’s confusion: The big redhead appears to believe that tallness and poundage — both of which he has in abundance — are “abilities.”

Sorry, Bill. Although your 84 inches and 250 pounds place you in select company, those measurements tell us nothing about your past abilities (in Walton-speak, “the impeccable footwork, the pinpoint passing, the Russell-esque timing as he swats shot after shot”) or present liabilities (“the bonehead proclamations, the nonstop mouth, the annoying habit of expressing everything in groups of three”). If height and weight were “abilities,” Chuck Nevitt and Felton Spencer would be NBA legends.

Walton’s confusion on this point explains his failure to notice that most of the players in the Target Center March 30 had considerably less “physical ability” than Nash. If we judged the players on how well they moved and how effectively they performed a variety of skills with and without the ball, those with the most ability were named Steve Nash, Dirk Nowitzki, Kevin Garnett, Nick Van Exel and Troy Hudson. The least able were named Evan Eschmeyer, Reggie Slater and Marc Jackson. No one in the latter group remotely resembled anyone in the former. . . .

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Jon Barry for Commissioner; Sam Mitchell imitates idiotic Larry Brown
Glad to hear Jon Barry express his disgust with the escalating number of charging calls — particularly on plays where the contact occurs AFTER the guy has already passed or shot. In the Jan. 31 entry below, I note that 35 years ago refs.tended to ignore such contact, which occurred rarely because only Dick Motta’s Bulls played D in this revolting and dangerous manner, though that soon changed. Today’s Bulls and Heat are mirror-image teams, so be prepared for a ton of block/charge collisions and foul trouble as the series unfolds. The NBA, in its infinite stupidity, continues to make life easier for charge-seeking stiffs and non-stiffs. I’ve been writing about this for a long, long time; you’ll find some links to the right, including the Letter to Ronnie Nunn.

Sam Mitchell lost Game 1 today by sitting Bosh for long stretches with just two fouls. This is really dumb — Larry Brown dumb — and doubly so when one takes into account Bosh’s very low fouling rate. Bosh ended the game with three fouls. Mitchell should have given him every chance to play 40 to 45 minutes, which you can’t do if you sit for 14 first-half minutes.. Here, Sam, is the advice I offered Larry Brown.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Amaechi, Hardaway and the vexing question, Are pro hoopsters “athletes”?

Back in 2001, I posed that question in an essay that ran in the online edition of the Sporting News. That may well have been the only occasion when Tim Hardaway and John Amaechi were mentioned in the same essay prior to Hardaway’s ignorant rant about gay athletes and gay people in general. My essay had nothing to do with sexual orientation (Amaechi was still in the closet), dealing instead with the ludicrous claim that NBA hoopsters are “the greatest athletes in the world.” Many, including Tim Hardaway in his younger days, are. But the league is so overrun with mediocrities (such as Amaechi and several of his 2000-01 Orlando Magic teammates) that the claim, as a generalization, is laughable.

On a side note, I was pleased to hear Amaechi’s Magic coach, Doc Rivers, and former Magic teammate Grant Hill say recently that they would welcome and be publicly supportive of an openly gay teammate. That said, I think Amaechi is off-base when he suggests that Jazz coach Jerry Sloan had it in for him because Sloan suspected he was gay.

The impression I got from Amaechi’s book is that Sloan was rightly disgusted with Amaechi’s lack of commitment. Due to Amaechi's limited athelticism, he was always a pathetic defender and rebounder (by NBA standards). But he did have a well-rounded, ambidextrous offensive repertoire (developed at Penn State). For him to be effective as a Jazz reserve, he had to keep that repertoire razor sharp, and that meant lots of extra work. Otherwise, you end up shooting 32.5 percent, which is what he shot his first season with the Jazz.

It's perfectly fine for a brilliant guy like Amaechi to have interests beyond b-ball, but Sloan is fully justified in expecting a highly paid professional to act like one. Alas, by the time he joined the Jazz Amaechi had lost the work ethic that enabled him to make it to the NBA in the first place. Then again, perhaps if Sloan had been more open to Amaechi's ideas on tweaking certain plays to enhance his effectiveness, his attitude and dedication would have been better.

Amaechi completely misses Sloan’s REAL bias: He actually likes slow dudes with limited talent (e.g., Jarron Collins), because he knows they won’t freelance on offense; he can always count on them staying within the confines of his system. Hard as it is to believe, Amaechi’s slowness and lack of jumping ability explain why Sloan’s Jazz was willing to give a fading, 30-year-old stiff a fat 4-year contract. And remember, this was toward the end of the Stockton-Malone era, when the only chance for the Jazz to make another title run was to surround their slowing but still highly skilled all-star tandem with active, athletic youngsters who would improve over the course of a long season if given playing time. Collins or a dedicated Amaechi might help you win a few extra regular-season games, but they're of limited value in the REAL season, the playoffs. Sloan made the same mistake in the middle of Amaechi's first Jazz season by signing Rusty LaRue to back up Stockton. LaRue was a very slow white dude who wouldn't make mental mistakes but also couldn't make plays. Giving the likes of LaRue and Amaechi playing time or, years later, letting Mo Williams get away because you prefer the much slower but slightly more polished point-guard tandem of Carlos Arroyo and Raul Lopez are coaching "mental mistakes." Better yet, it's a coaching "mindset," one that limits Sloan and prevents me from ranking him among the elite coaches.

Anyway, here’s that Dec. 21, 2001 Sporting News piece.

Many pro hoopsters are mediocre athletes
By Dennis Hans


Here’s a variation on the popular question, Are pro golfers “athletes”?

Are pro basketball players athletes?

The question seems sacrilegious. For years we’ve been told that professional hoopsters are “the greatest athletes in the world.” But the evidence is underwhelming.

Consider first the countless skyscrapers drawing fat NBA checks who are plagued by some combination of slow feet, bad hands, little agility, no rhythm, poor timing, bricklayer’s touch and other deficiencies. Last season [2000-01], nearly half the roster of the Orlando Magic -- a playoff team -- was filled with such people.

When I think “great athlete” I don’t think Michael Doleac (nice touch, but slow reflexes and can’t run or jump), Don Reid (can run fast in a straight line and can jump; can’t do much with the basketball), Andrew DeClercq (ditto), Pat Garrity (good hands and great stroke; sub-par quickness and jumping ability), or John Amaechi (brews a mean cup of pre-game tea; Brit’s other abilities less apparent). All are respected, intelligent, hard-working pros. But well-rounded, world-class athletes? Hardly.

What if we asked them to do something outside their sport that posed a modest athletic challenge, like making the routine plays of a shortstop? Garrity is the only one who could reliably field grounders (if hit directly at him) and make an accurate throw. But turning two with a baserunner bearing down would be a near-death experience.

Imagine this quintet trying to hit a 90 mph fastball -- or a 75 mph one, for that matter. Or throw a curve for a strike. Not a pretty picture.

Rest assured, Omar and Nomar (Vizquel and Garciaparra) would be dazzling at basketball with just a little practice. That’s because they’re among the greatest of the real world’s “world’s greatest athletes” -- guys under 6-2 who look good playing any game you can name.

Not persuaded? Let us turn from basketball’s mediocrities to Charles Barkley -- purportedly among the all-time greats in a profession of “great athletes.” But can you be considered a truly great athlete if you devote most of your non-drinking spare time to a game that, to be adequate, requires a modicum of arm-hand-eye-leg coordination, yet you remain light years away from attaining adequacy? Of all the non-disabled men in the world under 70 who play golf regularly, Barkley is the worst. His disjointed, hitch-ridden swing is the most unintentionally hilarious sight in sports.

Consider the greatest of the greats. Michael Jordan was a devoted baseball player from his youth right through high school. Later, he re-dedicated himself to the game while still in his athletic prime, hoping he could make the majors. Alas, even by minor league standards he was pathetic. Scrawny backup infielders barely out of high school hit the ball with more consistency and authority.

[WARNING! Inexcusable cheapshots in next paragraph. What I should have said back in 2001 is that the very-tall demographic is fairly small, so that when you reserve a few hundred NBA jobs for the really tall, you run out of great athletes much quicker than if those jobs were reserved for guys between, say, 5-8 and 6 feet, who comprise a much greater share of the population.]

Lucky for Jordan, as a young man he stumbled upon a sport that, at the professional level, limits four of the five positions (all but point guard) to a tiny slice of the population: tall people -- the world’s least coordinated demographic. For every man over 6-4 who can walk and chew gum at the same time there are ten who can’t.

Nitpickers will shout, “What about Allen Iverson? He’s barely 6 feet, yet he plays shooting guard, one of the positions you say is reserved for the tall.” Yes, I admit that Iverson is an exception. It’s probably just a coincidence that the league’s most electrifying performer -- and MVP -- is a man of average height.

The NBA’s powerhouse propaganda machine has persuaded the world that the most meaningful test of athleticism is the height you can reach from a running or standing jump. Thus Greg Ostertag is an athlete, Lee Trevino is not.

In reality, Trevino has much in common with veteran playmaker Tim Hardaway, who meets most any definition of “athlete.” Both are short, stocky and incredibly strong. Both have great hands, a million shots, and the imagination and moxie to pull them off when it matters most.

There’s more to athleticism than touching the rim with your forearm. Among other things, athleticism encompasses timing, rhythm, speed, strength, reflexes, agility, dexterity, quick hands, soft hands, touch, quick feet, quick “first step,” jumping height, jumping quickness, jumping rapidity, hand-eye coordination, foot-eye coordination, leg-arm-hand-eye coordination, and throwing and kicking power and accuracy.

Different sports -- and different skills within a sport -- require different combinations of athletic qualities. That explains why Jordan is a well-rounded superstar on the court and an easy out at the plate. It is why he whips Barkley on the golf course and is whipped by his pals Davis Love III and Tiger Woods.

Some guys look like a great athlete at first glance but fade upon close inspection. Seven-footer Darryl Dawkins could run faster than Larry Bird and jump higher (once he gathered himself) than Magic Johnson. But when we factor in reflexes, coordination, hands, agility and touch, it’s clear why Dawkins had a mediocre career: He couldn’t hold an athletic candle to Magic or Bird.

Magic and Bird were rare big guys who could do many of the things a million or two little guys can do. Half the NBA players are 6-8 or taller, and if most of them had half the abilities of Magic and Bird, the claim that the NBA is home to “the world’s greatest athletes” would merit debate.

Given the reality of NBA rosters, that claim is a crock. With the possible exception of football (which features skill-position marvels and a smattering of agile giants, but too many guys whose best attribute is size), no other pro sport -- not soccer, baseball, tennis, golf or bowling -- has as high a percentage of so-so or woeful athletes as the NBA.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to watching some real athletes. John Daly and Vijay Singh are going for the green.