Restoring Order Out of Mayhem
A while back I happened to catch some old grainy film of the most unforgettable college basketball game I ever saw, N.C. State’s 103-100 victory over Maryland in the 1974 ACC championship. What made the game so gripping was that only one of these teams for the ages was going to get to play in the NCAA Tournament because of the insane rule that only one team from any conference was eligible. Talk about motivation. The Wolfpack won the game, of course, and went on to beat UCLA and Marquette in Greensboro for the ACC’s second national title. Maryland turned down the NIT, feeling it was beneath them—which it clearly was.
But what really jumped out at me were a) the short shorts, of course, b) the players, by today’s muscle beach standards, were downright skinny, and c) the defender actually stood behind the offensive player in the lane, with space between them. There was no bodying up and shoving and slamming like you see today.
How far we’ve come, but in which direction it’s hard to tell.
The subject of officials and how the college game is called has been a hot topic lately, and it got ever hotter after Sunday’s donnybrook between Wake and Duke in Cameron Indoor Stadium. I usually don’t pay too much attention to fans complaining about officiating because after any game played anywhere you can troll the message boards of the losing team or listen to call-in shows or just hang out at the right (or wrong) establishments and invariably find the real reason for the defeat. The refs screwed them again. As humans we always get screwed when we lose. We’re hard-wired that way. And as I’ll say once again, the next best thing to winning is to lose with a good excuse.
But what is equally obvious is that the game has evolved—perhaps mutated—into a new sport that bears next to no resemblance to what came before. It’s a war underneath the basket, and it takes a fully grown man to hold his own. And the game has become impossible to call.
So that begs the question of what can anyone do. Most of the ACC coaches were asked that last week and I really didn’t hear anybody but Roy Williams of North Carolina come up with an answer. Williams’ solution was that the referees simply call the foul, which I found to be rather simplistic. If every foul is called, every game lasts 3 1/2 hours and every player on both teams fouls out. Who wants to watch that?
The only ray of hope is that the NCAA at least recognizes the problem and John W. Adams, the coordinator of men’s basketball officiating, is on it. You may have seen the article that Alexander Wolff wrote for Sports Illustrated in December about Adams’ efforts to clean up the game Referee Czar One of Adams’ solutions has been to established what he calls absolutes, actions that are going to prompt an automatic whistle, no exceptions made.
It won’t be easy. Referees get used to calling a game a certain way, and as we all saw with the strike zone in baseball, it’s hard to modify behavior so firmly entrenched. But headway has been made in baseball. Through technology the custodians of the game have defined the strike zone and have insisted that the umpires adhere to it. And if they don’t, they suffer the consequences. The strike zone, while still not perfect, is a far sight better than it was during Eric Gregg’s heyday of the 80s and 90s.
Basketball will be tougher, but we can all hope that some semblance of order is restored from the mayhem. Mayhem can be fun from time to time, but it gets old.
