NBA Gangsters

Remember when Michael Jordan, 38 years of age, came back a few years ago to play basketball for his beleaguered team, the Washington Wizards. The question I have is who cared. Well, the NBA for one. Ever since Mike left, it has been as exciting as a Shaq free throw and that’s about it. The stars of the game look, talk, and act like wannabe gangsta rappers (one of them, Allan Iverson, actually is). They run up and down the court fouling, traveling, palming the ball constantly, and scoring almost at will, and play a game that only loosely mirrors Nalsmith’s rules. It’s not basketball anymore; it’s arena football with talent.

The NBA needed Jordan to restore some degree of honor and professionalism to this New York hip-hop playground atmosphere gone crazy. Fans are losing interest. TV ratings are down. Nobody gives a damn if Shaq makes that free throw, or if Kobe raped that Denver woman. The players are for the most part uneducated, dramatically over-paid, pampered freaks and the arenas are their carnival tents.

I used to love pro basketball. I watched the Celtics, Knicks and Lakers all the time. Wilt, Russel, Walt, Willis, Magic, Larry, Earl the Pearl, these were the heroes of my youth. Classy guys on the court and off, who played a fabulous game without tattoos, steroids, or a punk’s attitude.

Who cared if Jordan came back? We all should, but we know it’s too late. It’s David Bowie at the Alamo, way too outnumbered. Jordan can’t rescue this mess, the NBA wrecked it when they allowed the hoodlums to rule, and left the rules to the hoodlums. Where have you gone Elgin Baylor, a clueless league turns it’s desperate eyes to you? John Wooden doesn’t deserve to watch this monster. Thank God he says he doesn’t.