Charlotte Bobcats' Boris Diaw Needs Contracting, Maybe David Stern's NBA, Too

Boris Diaw of the Charlotte Bobcats presents a convincing case for contracting the NBA by a couple of teams.

Have you seen him lately?

Undersized (like always), overweight (since when?), he looks like he should be a social studies teacher and offensive line coach, not a starting center.

Of course, a slick, heady player like Diaw would find a role even in a somewhat shrunken league, though a good one would likely require a shrunken Boris.

Don’t misunderstand this rant for Boris Diaw hate—he plays an effective and entertaining game.

But Commissioner David Stern’s good ship NBA is springing leaks all over the place.

His owners make the Hatfields and McCoys look like kissin’ cousins; Stern himself has seen fit to assume oversight of a franchise for which they cannot seem to find an owner; throughout the league, the local broadcast of a game these days is fraught with pitches for season-ticket packages and all manner of attendance-boosting promotion.

Oh, and there was that reality series, you remember the lockout, which accomplished...what exactly?

The players got a smaller slice of the pie.

Any team executive who spoke publicly on any topic besides meteorology got fined.

Stern’s legacy got skewered, perhaps.

And all for what again?

We’ve got a better NBA in what way, shape or form?

Players were denied access to normal preparation and treatments.

Coaches and GM’s could evaluate, assess, prioritize, make a list and check it twice, but were operating in the dark since contact with players or their agents was forbidden.

Owner Stern kept three teams in limbo for days during an already woefully inadequate training camp.

But ready or not, business, in an accelerated guise, resumed on Christmas Day.

TNT and ESPN were ecstatic, a player offered the crowd a short apology/pep talk at each home opener, and we NBA fanatics were beyond anxious.

The heroes, both familiar and novel—hello there, Ricky Rubio—have provided the expected thrills.

The aerial antics of LeBron and Blake, the magic and artistry of Rondo, CP3 and babies like Rubio and Kyrie Irving, not to mention the total package that is the defending MVP

The NBA, even in its Diaw-like condition, is both fantastic and star-driven.

And boy can those stars make plays!

But when it comes to playing the game properly, well…that’s a different story.

And that’s the problem.

Consider the simple 2-3 zone defense.  As the games pile up, its use as a leg-saving tactic seems logical.

But who knew it would become the strategic blueprint for off-striding the collection of talent that helped bring that nasty rift between ownership factions to a boil?

And what does this say about the basketball IQ of our current generation of play-making stars?

How many players nowadays are fundamentally sound enough to make a simple offensive post move?  In his final game as a Boston Celtic, Hall of Famer Bob Cousy posted up young stud Jerry West, executed a textbook drop step and tossed in a sweeping hook shot—left-handed and off the glass, of course.

The Cooz was a playmaking guard and truly not a very good shooter, but his back-to-the-basket game was on call as needed.  Such a complete skill set was part of the job description for a professional basketball player in Cousy’s day.

Times sure have changed, haven’t they?

In its early years, the NBA’s owners—Walter Brown in Boston, Eddie Gottlieb in Philly, the Hawks’ Ben Kerner, Danny (Mr. 24-second clock) Biasone and Lester Harrison in Upstate New York—subsisted on shoestring budgets and operated, often out of necessity, with a mutual spirit of cooperation for the good of the game and league.

Now you go out and borrow an ungodly amount of money, be a big shot for a while, then sell your team for a big profit.

It’s the new American way.  He who dies with the most toys wins.

Obviously, this is grossly oversimplified, not to mention cynical, but like a worn-out cliché, its springs from a basic truth.

It may be a moot point anyway, as the goose who kept laying the golden eggs may have finally hit menopause.

How many NBA owners are happy with their attendance?

No one seems willing to step up and buy the Hornets.  (A whole lot of NBA people have made a whole lot of NBA bucks over the years, and only Magic and MJ are inclined toward ownership?  Why is that?)

Maybe because the NBA, in a virtual plethora of ways, has gotten fat and lazy.

And the product suffers.

Rosters are rife with too many guys who can make the spectacular play for your highlight reel, but not the smart one when it really matters.

In Week 2 of NBA 2011-12, only 11 of the 63 games played were decided by five points or fewer.  Just as many were blow-outs by over 20, and over half (33) had double-digit margins of victory.

Not exactly crisp or compelling competition.

The NBA logo expands the game and generates revenue globally, but there’s been trouble at home for some time now.

Like Boris Diaw, the NBA needs to shape up before its game implodes.