It’s just not going to be clean and simple.
The NBA announced plans for new fines for flopping (which the union is appealing). The idea of punishing floppers sounds great and it’s an easy move on the most obvious and egregious calls. But most calls fans thinks of as flops are embellishments of real contact, and drawing that line for the NBA suits in New York is not going to be that simple or easy.
And Mavericks owner Mark Cuban expresses a legitimate and interesting concern — will this cause the referees to call things differently. Via ESPNDallas.com.
“It depends on whether or not it changes how flopping in game is called,” Cuban replied in an email from Berlin, Germany, where the Mavericks are playing an exhibition game this weekend. “If it just causes the refs to give floppers the benefit of the doubt knowing the league can deal with it after the fact, it could have some unintended consequences.
“A big question is going to be how much depth of explanation is going to be given when a fine is [assessed] and whether or not the league will enforce teams paying the fines for the players who get caught flopping.”
Where does the league draw the line? Where do the referees on the court — who have always had the ability to call a foul on flopping — draw the line? How the league enforces all this will be interesting.
And is it going to come down to how a guy falls when hit? Cuban suggested as much.
“The one thing the NBA should do, but of course it won’t, is to make it so an offensive foul is NOT called if a guy falls on his butt,” Cuban wrote. “The biomechanics of force and resistance don’t cause you to fall flat on your butt on contact, unless the defender intends to fall on his butt upon contact So if you see charges called because a guy lands on his ass, you know nothing has really changed. If the ‘look at me, I’m on the floor’ gets you nothing but a smirk, you know the rules are working.”
It’s not going to be clean and simple. Not at all.
The Hornets sure were excited for Jeremy Lamb‘s game-winner against the Pistons tonight.
After Lamb hit a jumper to put Charlotte up two with 0.3 seconds left, several Hornets ran onto the court. Bismack Biyombo was nearly at halfcourt as Detroit tried to inbound! He was so far onto the court, I’m not even sure officials noticed him when dinging Malik Monk – closer to the bench –for the violation.
The Pistons made a technical free throw to cut their deficit to one, but they still had to inbound from under their own basket. Their desperation pass was intercepted, and Charlotte held on for a 108-107 win.
Several Hornets were certainly relieved.
Crazily enough, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen this.
Everyone on the Suns seems frustrated.
In Phoenix’s loss to the Clippers on Monday, T.J. Warren got ejected. And his outburst will cost him extra.
Phoenix Suns forward T.J. Warren has been fined $15,000 for directing inappropriate language toward a game official following his ejection, it was announced today by Kiki VanDeWeghe, Executive Vice President, Basketball Operations.
This wasn’t a lengthy exchange. Warren didn’t linger on the court complaining. He must have said something extremely harsh to warrant two technical fouls and a fine that quickly.
(Despite confusion, the foul preceding the ejection was called on Deandre Ayton, not Warren.)
When the Pacers ruled Victor Oladipo out indefinitely a couple weeks ago, it seemed gloomy.
But Indiana weathered the storm, going 7-4 without its best player.
Now, Oladipo is back. He started against the Bucks tonight.
I still think the Raptors, Celtics, 76ers and Bucks will comprise the Eastern Conference’s top tier by the end of the season. But the Pacers (17-10, fourth in East) have a chance to crash the party. They acquitted themselves well without Oladipo, and it should get only easier with their offensive focal point/top perimeter defender.
The Bulls will play the Magic in Mexico City tomorrow.
Even amid all Chicago’s problems, that’s still a marquee game for the NBA as it expands its reach globally. So, the league is showcasing Chicago’s trip.
With unintentional hilarity.
That sound eight seconds in is Chicago’s season.