OK, this is officially an emergency. The NBA All-Star Game has gotten so embarrassing, so useless, so disgustingly non-competitive, we need an intervention. I have solutions, and you’re gonna love ‘em – unless you’re an All-Star who will be required to break an actual sweat during the game.
But first, a recap for the millions of people way smarter than me who chose not to waste their time watching Sunday night:
Leading up to this exhibition of entitlement, the main storyline was the search for a way to make the players … try. Last year’s version was all matador defense and lazy 3-pointers. “That is the worst basketball game ever played,” said one of the All-Star head coaches, Michael Malone. Viewership sank to 4.6 million, the lowest in more than 20 years. Ahead of this year’s game, NBA commissioner Adam Silver repeatedly sent a message to his All-Stars: Please, fellas – you have to play to win.
Instead, they avoided standing in between the guy with the ball and the hoop. They traded uncontested 3 after sleep-inducing uncontested 3. They did whatever you call Luka Doncic’s performance, which included staying under the senior-citizen speed limit and missing a wide-open dunk that high school kids make daily. The final score was an absurd 211-186. I won’t say who won, because the whole league lost.
“It just shows that we didn’t go out there and compete like you would want us to, but that’s just what it is,” Damian Lillard said afterward. The Bucks star scored 39 points, shot 11 for 23 from 3, and won MVP. They’re lucky there was no IDGAF.
Clearly, something has to change. Until the NBA brings in Will Smith’s crisis manager, here are my suggestions. Some of them are pretty ridiculous – but since that also describes what the All-Star Game has become, nothing should be off the table.
Justin Casterline/Getty Images
Losers Sit: The primal motivation of basketball – and the heart and soul of Hoop World – is that, in one way or another, losers get off the court. Let’s bring that pickup vibe to the All-Star Game. Divide the All-Stars into four squads of six players each. The guys voted as starters play the whole first quarter. Whoever loses that quarter gets off the court, and the next squad plays the whole second quarter. Run it back the same way in the third quarter. At this point, if one team has won three straight, run it back against the starters who lost the first quarter. Hoopers know – there is no better feeling than holding down the court for the whole run. I bet the All-Stars would feel that too.
Put Your Money Up: The in-season tournament showed that a $500,000 prize can motivate millionaires. Both teams played hard in this year’s inaugural game, and it was super fun to watch. That said, most All-Stars are making $40 million per year. What’s an extra two-fitty after taxes really gonna do for them? So, let’s require the All-Stars to put up their own money and pay for their roster spot. (All-Stars who are still on rookie deals, like Scottie Barnes and Paolo Banchero this year, get a pass.) If they don’t want to bet on themselves? Let another guy hoop. Winning team takes home the pot. That’s an instant recipe for competition.
Losers Fly Commercial: You lose, you buy a plane ticket and fly home with the rest of us. I’m talking shoes off in the airport security line, jostling for position when your boarding zone is called, the whole nine. I hope they got that TSA PreCheck. I’m cool with All-Stars flying first class – unless their side loses by more than 20. Then it’s Economy Plus.
Take Their Toy Away: When my kids abused a privilege, I gave them a few warnings, then took it away. Too many players are treating the All-Star Game like a birthright. But they also care deeply about the validation of making the team and want to be recognized as the best of the best. If Silver issued an ultimatum that the game will disappear unless players take it seriously, that should improve the effort. If not, having to go without an All-Star Game would make players realize where they went wrong – like my son did when his PlayStation disappeared.
Bring Back the Elam Ending: This is the system, developed by college professor Nick Elam, in which the game ends when one team reaches a certain score. That guarantees the game will end on a made basket. The All-Star game used this format in 2020, and it worked. The All-Stars were hooping hooping. I’m not sure why the NBA stopped using it, but they need to at least try running this back.
Reward Proficiency: Analytics can provide incentives to play harder and smarter. Add points to the All-Star scoreboard for defensive efficiency, true shooting percentage – LOL STOP. I’m lying. I hate analytics. Any such solution to the All-Star problem should be ignored. These nerds should not be allowed in the conversation unless they can or once were able to:
a.) dunk
b.) make 10 3s in 90 seconds or
c.) guard me 1-on-1
USA vs. The World: This is the one. International players on one team, Americans on the other. The USA squad would have to defend the reputation of the nation that invented the game. The world would have something to prove against the originators. As a New York City native I’m honestly a bit scared of this concept, because a starting five of Nikola Jokic, Joel Embiid, Giannis Antetokounmpo, Doncic and Shai Gilgeous-Alexander might be impossible to beat. But the Americans would have superior depth and could stay in the game with bench play. Everybody would want to watch. And when pride is on the line, guys play hard.
I’ll be first to admit that none of these solutions are perfect or even necessarily serious. But the NBA All-Star Game must be saved. The fact that you read this far shows how desperate we have become.
