The NBA has long been an image-conscious entity, striving for mass acceptance. Starting in the 1980s with Magic and Bird, then with Jordan in the late 1990s, the league achieved record popularity. But following a partial lockout of the 1998-99 season, the league has struggled to maintain its appeal. Surprisingly, however, the lockout hasn't been the primary source of the NBA's problems.
The lockout came at the worst possible time for the NBA, as the post-Jordan league lacked a true centerpiece superstar. At the same time, the league had grown tired of the way basketball had evolved from the free-wheeling gunning of the 1980s to the defensive-mindedness of the 1990s. The league began to worry that it was seen as a league of thugs and that it would no longer be able to market itself to mainstream white America. What has followed has been a crime.
Television revenue is the bread and butter of professional sports. Without it, a league's financial outlook is worse than bleak. Ask the NHL. Signing a large television deal is contingent upon how comfortable a network is with a league's advertising potential. Steadily, that confidence in the NBA had diminished, as the consensus was that big-money advertisers could no longer relate to the league's stars. The solution: let's tailor the sport to better appease marketers.
By introducing myriad rules and regulations, the league hasn't come any closer to solving its identity crisis. Basketball is an inherently physical game, and yet someone had the ingenious idea to remove physicality from the game via the rulebook. Why? Because physicality leads to fighting, which leads to nervous advertisers. Despite all the tinkering by Commissioner Stern and other league officials, they have not been able to perfectly control the players, but have hurt the game through constraint.
Consider the recent Suns-Spurs series, marred by the Amare Stoudemire/Boris Diaw suspensions. What league in its right mind would want to hand what had been an exciting series to the Spurs because Stoudemire and Diaw stepped three feet away from their bench after Robert Horry body checked Steve Nash? If anything, the league should have applauded the two line-crossers for not beating the living daylights out of Horry and moved on. This wasn't fair to the teams, the fans and ultimately, the same big-money advertisers the league had been looking to protect in the first place. Of course, this writer wasn't surprised.
My childhood was permanently scarred by the emotional baggage I carried as a Knicks fan. I endured Reggie Miller, and then I endured Reggie Miller some more. But of all the things I've gone through as a Knicks fan, few have been as infuriating as the league's decision to rob New York of its best chance to dethrone the Bulls in the 1997 playoffs.
PJ Brown incited a brawl by body slamming Charlie Ward during Game five of the Eastern Conference Semifinals. In the aftermath, Patrick Ewing, Allan Houston, Larry Johnson and Starks were all suspended. The remaining Knicks didn't have a chance.
The NBA is hurting, but only because it keeps shooting itself in the foot. Institute all the rule changes, dress codes and parking fines you want, none of it will matter. The league just needs to relax.
