Just about every kid bouncing a basketball somewhere on this globe dreams of playing in the NBA. It's an empty dream for most. For the ones fortunate enough to play for a college powerhouse, their odds are better than most. Except if you play for Duke.
Certainly much has been made about Duke's legacy in college basketball, Coach K's milestones in wins and their Final Four heritage. That's all great news for Duke fans. But those kids dreaming out on the court, dribbling that ball, envisioning a bright future aren't dreaming of winning college basketball games. They're dreaming of the NBA. To those dreamers, I suggest going somewhere other than Duke.
Rather than listen to my own spite, I'll allow some basic facts to speak for themselves.
It's true, Duke wins a lot of basketball games, they win championships and Coach K has earned a great deal of esteem as a result. That's fantastic if your goals are only as far as college.
But look at the NBA and players who played for Coach K. Consider the following list of Duke greats, keeping in mind some of these players are top players in ACC history, if not national history: Christian Laettner, Bobby Hurley, JJ Reddick, Trajan Langdon, Danny Ferry, Shane Battier, Seth Curry, Mike Dunleavy, DeMarcus Nelson and Kyle Singler. Who could argue that these aren't some of the all-time greatest in Duke history? They all had long, successful careers under Coach K at Duke. But what happened after that? That greatness faded into a collective of mediocrity. That list of 10 Duke greats combined to average 62 points in the NBA...and that's with rounding up.
Oh, but there have been successful Duke players in the NBA. True. Compare that first list with this one: Carlos Boozer, Elton Brand, Luol Deng and Kyrie Irving. Those four have averaged 69 points in the NBA. What could be the difference? One difference is the people on the second list stayed at Duke for two years or fewer. The first list is made up of players who very often stayed three or more.
Draw what conclusions you might from that. But how about this list: Bill Cartwright, Bill Walton, Jason Kidd, Paul Pierce, Baron Davis, Trevor Ariza and Kawhi Leonard. All of those were the Player of the Year in California. So was Duke star DeMarcus Nelson. While the rest of the list is made up of NBA draftees who all went on to, at the very least, solid NBA careers, DeMarcus Nelson wasn't drafted. He didn't average a whole point in his short NBA career. He's also the only California POY to attend Duke going back for decades.
It's possible these things are coincidental, but it that's a pretty big pile of coincidences.
But don't let that diminish from Coach K. He's really great at getting kids to play Duke basketball, to win games for Duke and hang banners at Duke. And if that's your dream, to help Coach K win games for Duke, to help him add to his wins tally, to be appreciated by the people at Cameron for a few years, then go ahead and go to Duke. If your dream involves the NBA, you might want to think about going somewhere else. Examine the facts on your own and make up your mind. But doesn't it make you wonder why Coach K never took any of that NBA money? Because he loves Duke too much? Wouldn't you? Unless you were one of those guys on that first list, who helped Duke realize their dreams only to end up, at best, as a NBA journeymen.
It seems clear that the shorter you stay at Duke, the better your chances are to be a star in the NBA. Would you rather be Bobby Hurley and Christian Laettner or Jabari Parker and Kyrie Irving? Ask yourself what the difference is. If you don't stay at Duke very long, you're much more successful. So just think of how successful you'd be if you never went. Jason Kidd and Paul Pierce didn't. DeMarcus Nelson did. What do you suppose the difference was?
Monday, March 30, 2015
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Three-pointers are for sissies
I hate three-pointers. I used to love them, but I've come to loathe them and what they mean to basketball. Three-pointers are the mark of people unable or unwilling to take the ball into the defense. It rewards the most for doing the least.
I get the whole idea: it's far so it should be worth more. OK, then a shot from beyond half court is worth four. A shot 80-feet from the opposite key is worth five. No? Not what James Naismith intended?
And what kind of logic is that? What other sport rewards people for not beating the defense? If you kick a ball through the posts in football and rugby, you get fewer points than if you get it all the way to the end of the field. If you hit the ball a short way into the outfield in baseball, you get a single. Hit it off the wall and you get a double or triple. You get the most by hitting it all the way past the defense. You score in soccer and hockey by not only beating the defense but also beating the specially assigned player whose sole job it is to keep you from scoring.
But in basketball if you get 70-percent of the way down the court and hit a shot, you're a superstar for some reason.
How about this: Make dunks and layups in the paint worth four. But no. Basketball is the only sport I can think of where the reward is less for completely defeating the defense than it is for not beating it to any great degree.
And I know the idea about three-pointers keeping the underdogs in games, about opening up a chance for upsets...and that's exciting. But is it? We cheered because when Rocky beat the champ. It wasn't because Apollo had weights tied to his hands. There was no advantage to the Miracle on Ice team. The fences weren't closer for the 'Mazing Mets nor was the field tilted in the favor of Broadway Joe. We love underdogs because they prevail against all odds, not just some odds.
So what does that mean if you are Valparaiso or Western Kentucky? It means you lose when you play North Carolina and Kentucky until you learn how to screen effectively and pass the ball in the post to prove you are good and not just lucky.
Consider, just as an example, BYU. BYU was one of the top scoring teams in the country. They were also one of the leading three-point shooting teams in the country and it was the strength of three-point shooting that helped get them into March Madness.
To be fair, BYU is good at other aspects of the game: they rebound well, they don't turn the ball over much, they play good defense. They're simply operating inside the framework that has been built for them. But they also serve as a great case study.
The Cougars averaged, for the sake of easy math, 84 points a game. They also averaged, again for easy math, nine three pointers made per game. That's 33-percent of their total points coming from nine shots. In the 1960s, a team would have to hit 14 shots (or about 50% more shots) for the same general production.
BYU also led the country in free throws made (proof they can get to the basket if they want to). They made an average of 20 free throws a game. That means they were hitting something like 15 traditional shots: dunks, layups, jumpers. They're among the leaders in the country in scoring and they are hitting, on average, 24 shots from the floor. The three-pointer allows BYU to go from scoring 68 points a game to 84.
The more ridiculous part is it's not even a difficult shot. The local high school girls' team hit 13 three-pointers the other night. If high school players can hit 13 three-pointers, why do we think it's a tough shot for Division I college players?
Corey Hawkins leads the nation in three-point shooting, hitting 48.8% from behind the line. That's a better shooting percentage than all but six teams in the country. If I told a coach his team would hit 49% of their shots, he'd take it in two seconds flat.
Little kids coming up in the game practice three-pointers. That's why a high school team can hit 13 in a game (a 32-minute game, no less). That's why Hawkins hits every other three-pointer he takes. Kids don't practice mid-range jumpers, post moves or layups to the same degree because there's no value to it. Why work really hard to get open six feet from the basket only to get two points for your effort when you can run to the corner for a wide open shot and get three for your minimal effort?
And that's the game this rule has created. Don't work very hard, don't put yourself in a difficult situation, have the playing field tilted in your direction and you too can be a champion. Boy, nothing says the American Way more than that.
I get the whole idea: it's far so it should be worth more. OK, then a shot from beyond half court is worth four. A shot 80-feet from the opposite key is worth five. No? Not what James Naismith intended?
And what kind of logic is that? What other sport rewards people for not beating the defense? If you kick a ball through the posts in football and rugby, you get fewer points than if you get it all the way to the end of the field. If you hit the ball a short way into the outfield in baseball, you get a single. Hit it off the wall and you get a double or triple. You get the most by hitting it all the way past the defense. You score in soccer and hockey by not only beating the defense but also beating the specially assigned player whose sole job it is to keep you from scoring.
But in basketball if you get 70-percent of the way down the court and hit a shot, you're a superstar for some reason.
How about this: Make dunks and layups in the paint worth four. But no. Basketball is the only sport I can think of where the reward is less for completely defeating the defense than it is for not beating it to any great degree.
And I know the idea about three-pointers keeping the underdogs in games, about opening up a chance for upsets...and that's exciting. But is it? We cheered because when Rocky beat the champ. It wasn't because Apollo had weights tied to his hands. There was no advantage to the Miracle on Ice team. The fences weren't closer for the 'Mazing Mets nor was the field tilted in the favor of Broadway Joe. We love underdogs because they prevail against all odds, not just some odds.
So what does that mean if you are Valparaiso or Western Kentucky? It means you lose when you play North Carolina and Kentucky until you learn how to screen effectively and pass the ball in the post to prove you are good and not just lucky.
Consider, just as an example, BYU. BYU was one of the top scoring teams in the country. They were also one of the leading three-point shooting teams in the country and it was the strength of three-point shooting that helped get them into March Madness.
To be fair, BYU is good at other aspects of the game: they rebound well, they don't turn the ball over much, they play good defense. They're simply operating inside the framework that has been built for them. But they also serve as a great case study.
The Cougars averaged, for the sake of easy math, 84 points a game. They also averaged, again for easy math, nine three pointers made per game. That's 33-percent of their total points coming from nine shots. In the 1960s, a team would have to hit 14 shots (or about 50% more shots) for the same general production.
BYU also led the country in free throws made (proof they can get to the basket if they want to). They made an average of 20 free throws a game. That means they were hitting something like 15 traditional shots: dunks, layups, jumpers. They're among the leaders in the country in scoring and they are hitting, on average, 24 shots from the floor. The three-pointer allows BYU to go from scoring 68 points a game to 84.
The more ridiculous part is it's not even a difficult shot. The local high school girls' team hit 13 three-pointers the other night. If high school players can hit 13 three-pointers, why do we think it's a tough shot for Division I college players?
Corey Hawkins leads the nation in three-point shooting, hitting 48.8% from behind the line. That's a better shooting percentage than all but six teams in the country. If I told a coach his team would hit 49% of their shots, he'd take it in two seconds flat.
Little kids coming up in the game practice three-pointers. That's why a high school team can hit 13 in a game (a 32-minute game, no less). That's why Hawkins hits every other three-pointer he takes. Kids don't practice mid-range jumpers, post moves or layups to the same degree because there's no value to it. Why work really hard to get open six feet from the basket only to get two points for your effort when you can run to the corner for a wide open shot and get three for your minimal effort?
And that's the game this rule has created. Don't work very hard, don't put yourself in a difficult situation, have the playing field tilted in your direction and you too can be a champion. Boy, nothing says the American Way more than that.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
All AQs must die
With March Madness upon us, I think it's time to have a serious discussion about something ruining the tournament...AQs. Automatic Qualifiers, or AQs, have been part of the tournament from the outset. In fact, "at-large" berths weren't even part of the tournament for many years.
It was determined, at some point, that too many deserving teams were being left out of the tournament and the field was expanded. With more openings than conferences, the tournament had to accept second and third place teams, even fourth, fifth, sixth place teams "at large" to fill in all the openings.
Still, there are a number of so-called bubble teams that are left out each year. The field expanded and expanded and yet the deserving teams continued to be left out. Perhaps one day, the field will expand to well over 300 teams, as to eliminate the bubble completely, and the name of the tournament will change to January Madness, with teams hoping to one day advance all the way to the Wonderful One Hundred Twenty Eight.
That's ridiculous, of course. But how else can there be room for deserving teams like UConn, Murray State, Old Dominion, or their bitter rivals New Dominion, without expanding the field?
It's simple...we kill the AQs, man.
I know, if you get rid of the AQ teams, you get rid of the major element creating the madness of the aforementioned March. People live to see teams like Hampton or Lehigh knock off a major power. I love it as much as anyone else.
You'll still have that without AQ teams. If NC Central or Illinois State or St. Francis-Brooklyn knocked off Kansas or Duke or Kentucky, nobody's going to call that anything besides an upset.
But the point the NCAA Selection Committee makes every year is they want the best 68 teams in the tournament. But is that really the case with the AQ teams? For instance, is Cal or Oregon State better than Hampton or Texas Southern? Is UConn or Illinois better than Belmont or North Dakota State? And isn't it still an upset if Murray State beats Virginia or St. Mary's beats Arizona?
Then why go on with the AQ non-sense?
OK, so Murray State and St. Mary's can't get big teams to play them. Then penalize those teams and make it publicly known. Arizona is a #8 seed...why? They were asked to play Murray State and declined. They declined a game at Montana. They declined a game at Northern Iowa. The selection committee rewards guts and courage, not ducking, dodging and avoiding.
Oh but don't get me started about the teams that duck and dodge then try to divert criticism with some stupid, elongated response about the gate...yes, because how will Michigan State scrape by without some extra ticket sales?
Have the NCAA create some preseason tournaments with the Murray States of the world against the Kentuckys of the world and make it know that the willingness to compete in and level of performance in these tournaments affects your placement in March greatly.
Create a structure where Manhattan has a better chance to prove they are good by competing against Kansas or Ohio State. Create an environment where teams are rewarded for winning games under adverse conditions, by being Duke and beating Bucknell on the road, by being Arizona and beating Charleston Southern on the road. The more you do this, the better your seed will be. That way, these AQ schools can prove they deserve a berth through their play, not simply from the fact they play in the Big West or Patriot League.
It's March Madness and the survivor wins the national championship. Why is anything about it automatic?
It was determined, at some point, that too many deserving teams were being left out of the tournament and the field was expanded. With more openings than conferences, the tournament had to accept second and third place teams, even fourth, fifth, sixth place teams "at large" to fill in all the openings.
Still, there are a number of so-called bubble teams that are left out each year. The field expanded and expanded and yet the deserving teams continued to be left out. Perhaps one day, the field will expand to well over 300 teams, as to eliminate the bubble completely, and the name of the tournament will change to January Madness, with teams hoping to one day advance all the way to the Wonderful One Hundred Twenty Eight.
That's ridiculous, of course. But how else can there be room for deserving teams like UConn, Murray State, Old Dominion, or their bitter rivals New Dominion, without expanding the field?
It's simple...we kill the AQs, man.
I know, if you get rid of the AQ teams, you get rid of the major element creating the madness of the aforementioned March. People live to see teams like Hampton or Lehigh knock off a major power. I love it as much as anyone else.
You'll still have that without AQ teams. If NC Central or Illinois State or St. Francis-Brooklyn knocked off Kansas or Duke or Kentucky, nobody's going to call that anything besides an upset.
But the point the NCAA Selection Committee makes every year is they want the best 68 teams in the tournament. But is that really the case with the AQ teams? For instance, is Cal or Oregon State better than Hampton or Texas Southern? Is UConn or Illinois better than Belmont or North Dakota State? And isn't it still an upset if Murray State beats Virginia or St. Mary's beats Arizona?
Then why go on with the AQ non-sense?
OK, so Murray State and St. Mary's can't get big teams to play them. Then penalize those teams and make it publicly known. Arizona is a #8 seed...why? They were asked to play Murray State and declined. They declined a game at Montana. They declined a game at Northern Iowa. The selection committee rewards guts and courage, not ducking, dodging and avoiding.
Oh but don't get me started about the teams that duck and dodge then try to divert criticism with some stupid, elongated response about the gate...yes, because how will Michigan State scrape by without some extra ticket sales?
Have the NCAA create some preseason tournaments with the Murray States of the world against the Kentuckys of the world and make it know that the willingness to compete in and level of performance in these tournaments affects your placement in March greatly.
Create a structure where Manhattan has a better chance to prove they are good by competing against Kansas or Ohio State. Create an environment where teams are rewarded for winning games under adverse conditions, by being Duke and beating Bucknell on the road, by being Arizona and beating Charleston Southern on the road. The more you do this, the better your seed will be. That way, these AQ schools can prove they deserve a berth through their play, not simply from the fact they play in the Big West or Patriot League.
It's March Madness and the survivor wins the national championship. Why is anything about it automatic?
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