The Crying Game

As a kid who grew up playing soccer, basketball and baseball, I admit that I was often a pretty bad sport.  As a little leaguer I started by complaining about questionable called third strikes, and even now I've been known to give a rec league basketball referee an earful about a no-call on one of my patented out-of-control drives to the basket.  To me, the arguing comes naturally - I'm a verbose person who enjoys a good debate, and I've always been quick to engage an official in "conversation" after witnessing a call I don't agree with.  As I've been watching a ton of NBA basketball this season, however, I'm starting to truly see how annoying all of this bitching and moaning can be from an outsider's perspective.

After watching at least parts of the vast majority of Knicks games this season, I saw a TON of complaining to the officials.  While some of these seemed justified, seeing the same players complain after virtually every whistle eventually became, for lack of a better term, annoying.  When David Lee played for New York, he had a reputation for being a complainer, but I never really noticed it.  This year, however, all of the crying to the officials seemed to be contagious - it started with Tyson Chandler and eventually infected Raymond Felton, Carmelo Anthony, JR Smith and more.  By the playoffs, it was a full-blown outbreak of bitching.  Not only did it lead to numerous technical fouls and transition layups for the opposition, but as a Knicks fan it also became frustrating to watch.

Unfortunately, the complaining isn't contained inside Madison Square Garden.  Last night I watched Miami lose in Indiana to the Pacers and saw Chris Bosh, Ray Allen and even LeBron James whine relentlessly.  The NBA refs have received a lot of (often deserved) criticism over the last few weeks, but there's no way that every call they make could have been wrong.  Watching the reactions, body language and lips of the Heat players, however, you'd have thought that every single call (questionable or otherwise) had gone against them.  If I was rooting for Indiana before the series, I'm even more of a temporary Pacers fan after watching the first four games of the Eastern Conference Finals.  As a fan, watching players complain isn't much fun.

While my rec league basketball games don't have many fans to consider, realizing how annoying all of the complaining is has forced me to reconsider how I act towards referees and umpires.  While I've always had a short fuse and know that the refs are accustomed to it and can handle it, I imagine that my teammates, opponents and spectators find my behavior off-putting, just as I hate watching Chris Bosh whine about every call.  Unfortunately it's taken me almost 30 years to learn this valuable lesson, but I now recognize that, when it comes to crying to the refs, change is better late than never.

Playing the Lottery

Few seemingly-benign sports concepts are criticized more than the NBA Draft Lottery, the 2013 edition of which takes place tonight (8:30 PM ET on ESPN).  What on the surface seems like a pretty basic lottery system - a random drawing weighted by won-loss record in the previous season to determine which NBA teams get the draft's first three selections - is ripe with conspiracy theories and fans crying foul; SB Nation (admittedly not the most reputable of sports media publications) did a feature this morning entitled "An NBA Draft Lottery conspiracy theory for every team" rather than focusing its efforts on any legitimate analysis.  Whether or not you think the Lottery is rigged, it's likely that you have some complaint about the mechanics of the event.

Some people argue that the weighting is too heavily skewed towards the worst teams, giving teams incentive to tank at the end of the regular season to try and improve their odds of getting the top overall pick.  An equal number of people, however, argue the exact opposite, claiming that the worst teams don't win the lottery often enough to help them become competitive more quickly.  Even aside from debates about the lottery weighting, many people argue for a different system altogether.  Some want a tournament for non-playoff teams (or some subset thereof), with the winner taking the top overall selection. Others want the NBA to adopt the NFL model of giving the worst team (by record) the top pick, tanking be damned.  Advocates of the current system are few and far between, though the critics are far from agreeing on a next best alternative.

One criticism I do agree with is that the lottery drawing shouldn't be held behind closed doors.  While I fully believe the system to be legitimate, doing the drawing before the announcement and not in plain sight leads to much of the conspiracy theory development.  While this might be what the NBA is in fact going for - people are talking about the NBA Draft Lottery after all, aren't they? - doing the actually drawing of the ping pong balls (or equivalent) in public could simultaneously add legitimacy to the system and make the event more exciting.  Don't people love to watch the local lottery ball drawings during the six o'clock news on their local broadcast affiliate?  Couldn't the NBA make the Lottery some awesome Deal Or No Deal-style drawing that would be super compelling for the live audience?  I would be 10x more likely to watch this than the current system, which at best features an awkward moment from the team representative and at worst is just plain boring.

Truth be told, I will tune into the NBA Draft Lottery tonight regardless, even though this year's potential rookie field lacks major star power.  I think, all things considered, the current system does a solid job of finding a middle ground between promoting competitive balance and discouraging late-season tanking.  While we'll always have the conspiracy theorists ready to pounce, I don't have as many issues with the current system as many others do.  If the Sacramento Kings (currently with the 6th-best odds) somehow land the top pick tonight, however, I might have to rethink my viewpoint.   

Showing Some Appreciation

I’ve always believed that every good sports experience has its own distinct feel.  As a Giants fan, the 2012 NFC Championship victory over the 49ers at San Francisco’s Candlestick Park had a feeling of swagger and confidence, as if a trip to the Super Bowl was all but guaranteed.  Team USA’s last-second victory over Algeria at the 2010 World Cup felt like desperation-tuned-jubilation as a win-or-go-home situation was flipped on its head in the most dramatic of ways.  On Saturday night, I returned to Nassau Coliseum for Game Six of a first round playoff series between my Islanders and the Pittsburgh Penguins, and experienced a combination of fear and appreciation unlike anything that I had previously felt as a sports fan.

I will definitely miss the Nassau Coliseum when the Islanders move to Brooklyn.

While most of my fellow Islander fans might be too proud to admit it, Game Six had an ominous feel from the start.  Yes, there was a great energy at the Coliseum from the moment we entered the building, but it seemed like much of the air had been let out of the proverbial playoff balloon once the Isles reached the brink of elimination.  Coming off of a disappointing Game Five shutout loss in Pittsburgh and more shaky play from their goaltender, the Isles and their fans were a bit jittery throughout Game Six.  Even when the home team took the lead – three separate times, in fact – neither the players nor the crowd ever felt truly confident.  Once the game went into overtime, everyone in the arena was thinking the same thing: We were about to witness the end of the 2013 Islanders season.

This isn’t to say, however, that the sense of fear made Game Six a bad experience - quite the opposite, in fact.  While the nervousness was noticeable, it was overpowered by a sense of appreciation that I found refreshing.  After six years without a playoff appearance and a certain future that will see the Islanders move to Brooklyn in two years, the Long Island faithful had so much pride for this young, rising, energetic team that it made me proud to be a New York Islanders fan.  Even after the Penguins scored the game winner in overtime, the fans didn’t turn away (something people typically associate with fans of other New York teams, particularly the Mets and the Jets).  Virtually everyone stayed until well after the final goal, sending off star play John Tavares with “MVP” chants and thanking the team for everything they did for Long Island this year.

It was uplifting to see the positive response even in the face of playoff elimination, because Islander fans truly do have much to be thankful for right now – and the bulk of the blue-and-orange faithful recognized that on Saturday night.  After years of futility, things are looking up for this young team led by an MVP candidate who is only getting better.  After years of hearing that their team would move to Kansas City or Canada, Isles fans will have to go no farther than Brooklyn’s Barclays Center to see the team play when they leave the Island.  And, despite the fear, the Islanders gave their fans something that they haven’t had much of over the last several seasons – hope.  And while hope can lead to pain – as it did when the season ended abruptly on Saturday night – it’s also a big part of what makes rooting for a perennial underdog like the Islanders so special.

Head to Head Competition

Despite NHL commissioner Gary Bettman's background as general counsel at the NBA, the two leagues are completely separate entities.  While the two organizations are loosely tied together by the fact that a number of American (and one Canadian) arenas house both NBA and NHL teams (and in some cases, like New York's Madison Square Garden, Toronto's Maple Leaf Sports & Entertainment or Washington's Monumental Sports, the teams are owned by the same company), they are operated independently and, in many cases, actively compete with each other for viewers, game attendees and sponsors.  Nowhere is this more evident than during the playoffs, where many U.S. markets have basketball and hockey teams simultaneously competing for market- and mind-share.

New York is one of those markets, and I've been a fan caught in the middle.  Not only are the Knicks and Islanders both in the playoffs at the same time (hardly a common occurrence), but they're currently on the same game schedule.  On Wednesday, I had to choose between Knicks @ Celtics Game Five and Isles @ Penguins Game One (not to mention a nationally televised Braves game against NL East rival Washington).  Tonight, I'll be put in the same position as the Knicks try to close out their first round series in Boston while the Islanders try to even their series in Pittsburgh at the exact same time.  While I've been trying to flip back and forth between the two, I've been undoubtedly watching more basketball - mainly because I like basketball better as a sport, find the NBA playoffs more compelling than the NHL's, and have more positive memories associated with the Knicks postseason runs than I do the Islanders.  Plus, how can the NHL compete with the NBA's tradition of great nationally televised basketball?

While I'm all for open competition between the two leagues, I don't think it's too much to ask to have the NBA and NFL talk to each other about playoff scheduling, particularly in the first rounds when both leagues have eight series going on simultaneously.  I know there are a lot of factors to consider - television schedules, arena availability, etc. - but I find it difficult to believe that the Knicks / Isles schedule overlap couldn't have been avoided (especially considering that neither the Penguins nor the Islanders have an NBA team in their building to worry about).  Maybe there aren't a ton of fans of both the Knicks and the Isles - most Knicks fans are Rangers fans whereas Isles fans my be slowly gravitating towards the Nets, especially since the two will share Barclays Center in a few years - but there are enough to justify some rescheduling.

With the lack of playoff successes (and appearances) the Knicks and Isles have had over the last decade, perhaps I shouldn't be complaining - I feel lucky to have them both in the postseason this year, and flipping channels isn't the worst thing in the world.  Hell, it's even given me a legitimate excuse to use my picture-in-picture functionality.  But this week of playoff fun would undoubtedly be more enjoyable if I had one game to watch each night rather than two games scheduled simultaneously every other evening.  My fiance might disagree - we do have a lot of episodes of The Voice to catch up on, after all - but hopefully going forward the NBA and NHL scheduling departments will coordinate a bit more openly.

First Round Flame Out

It's Game Five of the first round of the NBA Playoffs.  Your team is down 3-1, but they're returning home for a critical match-up and the chance to get back into the series with a W.  Your home turf is not only in the middle of one of the world's greatest basketball markets, but your team plays in a brand new building in front of fans that, until last week, had never tasted NBA post-season action.  And, if you're the Brooklyn Nets fan base, you somehow manage to pack the Barclays Center to the brim but forget all of your energy and passion at home.

When I got the opportunity to attend my first Brooklyn Nets game for Game Five of their first round match-up against Chicago (somehow, I failed to make it to any of the team's 41 regular season games), I jumped on it.  Despite a 3-1 series deficit, I was anticipating a raucous crowd - a Game Five win (which the Nets ended up getting) would put them a road win away from a very winnable Game Seven back at Barclays.  I got to the arena around 20 minutes prior to tip and was impressed to see a mostly black-clad crowd - given the Nets newness in the market, I was expecting a lot more Bulls fans.  After taking in the fan wardrobe, however, the long list of disappointments sank in.

First, the arena was virtually empty at tip-off.  By the time the first quarter was winding down there were people in almost every seat - it was clearly a sell-out - but people were arriving super late. With transportation to the Barclays Center ultra-convenient and logistics at security and Will Call pretty sound, I have to blame the Nets fans on this one.  While I'm sure a lot of Brooklyn-dwelling Nets fans have the typical hipster "too cool for school" attitude (stereotype much?), this is the playoffs - you just have to show up on time.  Even when the fans did sit down, they were very quiet.  While the game was close and exciting throughout, the fans didn't get loud until the last few minutes of the fourth, when the game was all but won by the Nets.  What kind of fans aren't energetic until after a victory is secured?

The Barclays Center looked great - but sounded empty - on Monday night.

Some of this can be explained by the fact that the Nets are new to town - typically, a new team doesn't make the playoffs in its first year (either because it's an expansion franchise or because the relocated team is terrible, like Oklahoma City in its first season), so the fans have a few seasons to get into it before they head to the post-season.  But given how much hype there has been around Brooklyn basketball for years now, the Game Five showing was very disappointing.  If the Nets can manage to win Game Six in Chicago (no small task), their fans better come out a lot stronger for Game Seven if they want to create any kind of home court advantage.