Sports Dump

Tim Duncan thinks an NBA referee has a vendetta against him.

Well, shit. Welcome to the NBA, Tim. You may have noticed some strange things about the league, like the fact that there are no rules anymore. Or, perhaps it stands out to you that often the announcers will declare the winner before the game even starts--which can be figured by simply choosing the team with the most marketable stars and assuming that the referees will not do anything to impede said stars from scoring 30-40 points. That includes not calling them for fouls, calling nonexistent fouls against the other team, not calling travelling, and whatever else will make young, black men keep pouring cash into the NBA's coffers.

Take Kobe Bryant: he raped that girl in Colorado. He is now off-limits as far as national advertising goes for the NBA. But, he scores 50 points a game (is it bad coaching? No. What does "coaching" have to do with pro basketball?). Referees won't dare to call anything on him, and they'll let him take 7 or 8 steps without dribbling, because the more 50-point games Kobe has, the more thugs tune into the broadcasts, buy Kobe gear, pay to attend AAU summer camps and throw up 41 shots a game, like Kobe.

Also, I strongly suspect that most young males in this country don't think there was anything wrong with Bryant forcibly sodomizing that woman. The NBA marketing geniuses, I'm sure, are subtly playing on that and reaping the rewards (well, and my eternal hatred, but they don't care about me).

Skeptics might say that Duncan is a star, and so he shouldn't be the target of any "vendetta" by a ref. Well, Tim Duncan is widely regarded as "boring," in the same way that Tom Brady and Derek Jeter are "boring." Duncan doesn't have a rap album. He doesn't have a trophy wife and a mistress and sit them next to each other at Spurs games. He doesn't have any bodyguards who shoot people. In short, he is not part of the lifestyle of which the NBA is very much trying to make itself an irreplaceable part. That is, a young, urban, fantasy wet-dream lifestyle.

Unfortunately, the NBA has--at least, for my whole life--followed scripts. It's as scripted as any moneymaking pageant: you have to have storylines, dammit, or the retarded sheep at home will flip to "The Search for the Next Pussycat Doll" (seriously, that's the title marketing came up with??)!

So, in the 80's it was Magic vs. Larry, and so every goddamn year we had to see the Celtics and Lakers go at it in supremely "who cares?" fashion and somebody would win and then it would set up the "showdown" of the next season and it was a vicious circle.

Then, the Detroit Pistons, the punk rockers of basketball, created (or, perhaps, were created by the league?) their own "fuck the rules!"-style of basketball and fans loved it (or hated it. Same thing). Like all punks, they were incestuously involved with the powers-that-be and the Pistons were handed two championships while the NBA raked in the suckers' money for a thoroughly watered-down product.

1991. Michael Jeffrey Motherfucking Jordan. Bitches. And all of a sudden...Detroit who? I saw Isaiahaiash Thomas (his mom couldn't spell, why should I?) on TV the other day and he was STILL crying like a little girl about how the NBA "turned" on him and took away the Pistons' glory and handed it all to Jordan. And that's pretty much how it went. Now, there was a string attached: the Bulls still got fucked by the refs a few times in every series, just to make sure the advertisers got their money's worth. In 6 Finals, the Bulls never swept, despite playing such mightily inferior teams as: the Phoenix Suns, the Kareem-less Lakers, the Seattle Supersonics (ooh, Hersey Hawkins!), and the Utah Jizz. The Jizz had a white point guard and ran the pick-and-roll as a first option, for Christ's sakes!

I don't remember where this was all going--oh yeah! The vendetta. Look, Duncan: the refs have been the NBA's tools for years, going to games and basically directing the script on-the-fly. So yeah, now one of them decides he's actually very important to the game (and why not? He knows beforehand and picks the winners most nights!!), and he doesn't like you.

Congratulations: you've just given them another storyline!