The Sports Maunderer is not the obnoxious, condescending sexist that many claim him to be. To prove it: an entire post dedicated to the WNBA! Even better, this will not be a post entirely dedicated to lambasting the WNBA (though, most likely, something like that will occasionally occur). In fact, this will be free advice to the WNBA. A WHOLE POST OF FREE ADVICE! (I expect women’s groups to appreciate the effort I’m making here, and fund my future campaign for president.)
I think the biggest problem the WNBA has is one of image. People think it is a slow, boring, overly deliberate, limited game where the most exciting thing you can hope for is that some type of fight breaks out (but it never does).
But plenty of other sports have image problems, also. So why does the WNBA have so much trouble shaking this image? Well I’d say reason #1 is that it is a slow, boring, overly deliberate, limited game where the most exciting thing you can hope for is that some type of fight breaks out (but it never does).
This might seem like a difficult obstacle to overcome. But it is not impossible. The problem is that people expect the WNBA to try to deliver that which it obviously can’t (like, say, excitement). But where is the numero uno culprit here? Their own marketing division. WNBA commercials tell you to
“Expect Passion”
“Expect Excellence”
And, in short,
“Expect Great”
Well, when people want to see great, they are going to be pissed if they don’t get it. The NBA’s advertising for “where amazing happens” is annoying, and it ignores such shenanigans as Dwayne Wade driving to the basket out of control, with no hope for a shot, throwing himself to the floor without actually ever touching anyone, and getting a call for it. But, amazing still does happen. Sure, you have to endure watching the Cavaliers’ putrid “offense” for a while, but at the end of a game you might get to see Lebron make a fadeaway 30 footer for the win. So yes, “where amazing happens” is selective truth, but it is truth.
On the other hand, “Expect Great” is a major problem for two reasons.
1) We watch sports to see the spectacular happen. The very fact that they have to remind us that this is what we should watch for undercuts the premise that we should expect it.
2) More damaging to the premise is that we really shouldn’t expect “great”. The WNBA is just not in the “great” business. “Solid”, “cooperative”, “fundamentals”, etc. These are things the WNBA is good at. Telling people to expect “great” is like Boeing advertising a minivan, then wondering why no one buys its $50 million dollar vehicles.
How to fix this? Simple. Change your advertising. Instead of “expect great”, do this:
Epic voice; gravelly, kind of movie-trailer-esque; slow motion; soaring musical score;
Actually, strike that. The WNBA is already in slow motion, so let’s lose the slow motion part. People won’t be able to tell the difference anyway.
Moving on:
“Expect every dribble to be fundamentally sound. Expect every jumpshot to be fundamentally sound. Expect every pass to be fundamentally sound. Expect solid play everywhere.”
Now, expectations have been lowered. How about another one:
“You think you’ve seen good chest passes before, but you have never seen *insert WNBA player here* make a chest pass. It’s like she practices it every day.”
“Expect sound execution. Expect communication. Expect very good sportsmanship. Expect teammates to work together.”
“Want to see how to correctly perform a left-handed lay up? Watch the Storm take on the Shock this Wednesday on ESPN7.”
You think I’m joking. But I’m not. What does the league have to lose? More people will watch “The Philanthropist” than WNBA games. If they don’t find some way to spice things up, they will die. Self-deprecation is the perfect way to do it, particularly when it isn’t really self-deprecating. They are making fun of their (apt) image, while not losing sight of the fact that there isn’t anything wrong with remembering to jump off your right foot for a left handed lay-up.
And let’s face it, there is only one other way an all female league is going to attract much attention, and I doubt my many female readers would deliver their approbation unto that. So until next time:
The WNBA: where the spectacularly mundane happens.
~The Sports Maunderer~
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Monday, June 08, 2009
I hate single posts for links
But this was too good not to link to. Obviously the the Sports Guy is usually terrific, but the number of terrific things said here was too terrific. That's right. Too terrific. Let me indugle myself and quote my favorite part, if only because i noticed this look last night and I cracked up even then.
"0:01: Fascinating last play -- Orlando defends Kobe with its slowest defender (Turkoglu), gambling that his length will bother Kobe's jumpshot, and if Kobe drives, Hedo's teammates will jump in to help and Kobe will shoot, anyway. So what happens? Kobe beats Hedo off the dribble, Redick, Lewis and Howard all collapse on Kobe, Kobe ignores Odom (wide-open, left corner), Ariza (wide-open, top of key) and Fisher (wide-open, right corner) and shoots with two seconds left, anyway ... and Hedo blocks him from behind. Sorry, that's just a terrible offensive play. I would hope even the Lakers fans would admit this...
0:00.6: Funniest moment of the game: Kobe storms back to the bench, whacks the chair in disgust and sits down as Phil Jackson (already sitting) looks at him with a bemused, "Should I point out to him that MJ absolutely would have passed there?" smile on his face. Classic."
The Sports Maunderer has a relative who will go nameless (her name rhymes with smatherine) who repeatedly beats him over the head for not appreciating Kobe enough. This, in a nutshell, is why. My favorite part of basketball--by far--is passing. It isn't always the smart play. Sometimes, for instance, Lebron passes too often. MJ always passed pretty much the correct amount (when you are as good of a scorer as he was, passing is rarely the best play, but he still got plenty of awesome assists because when it was the correct play, he made it). Magic Johnson... well he was Magic Johnson. Before my time but I'm told he didn't suck. Even dominant big men like Tim Duncan (who I can't stand) and Shaq would pass out of double teams. not necessaril pretty, but effective. Pau Gasol, for that matter, a Kobe-teammate and 7-footer, is a really good passer who has beautiful assists from time to time.
When I play or watch basketball, I look for awesome passes. Like this. Or any of Lebron's other 10,000,000,000 amazing passes. Lebron plays with the worst team in basketball and yet he manages to make several amazing assists per game, and would average a triple double if his team knocked down shots. Kobe has a veritable all-star team and they play like an all-star team. they win in spite of themselves. They just have too much talent to lose.
The Lakers should crush people. They should destroy them. They certainly shouldn't be getting blocked from behind on the last play of regulation with a chance to win. This, right here, is why I don't root for Kobe (besides, you know, that business in Colorado). He is either too arrogant or too stupid or not good enough to know when to give the ball up. I don't think he isn't good enough, and I don't think he's too stupid.
Maybe it isn't arrogance though. Maybe it is insecurity. Maybe he feels like if he doesn't get every game winning shot, he isn't good enough. Either way, it is a crime against a beautiful sport. I would think that smatherine would understand that.
"0:01: Fascinating last play -- Orlando defends Kobe with its slowest defender (Turkoglu), gambling that his length will bother Kobe's jumpshot, and if Kobe drives, Hedo's teammates will jump in to help and Kobe will shoot, anyway. So what happens? Kobe beats Hedo off the dribble, Redick, Lewis and Howard all collapse on Kobe, Kobe ignores Odom (wide-open, left corner), Ariza (wide-open, top of key) and Fisher (wide-open, right corner) and shoots with two seconds left, anyway ... and Hedo blocks him from behind. Sorry, that's just a terrible offensive play. I would hope even the Lakers fans would admit this...
0:00.6: Funniest moment of the game: Kobe storms back to the bench, whacks the chair in disgust and sits down as Phil Jackson (already sitting) looks at him with a bemused, "Should I point out to him that MJ absolutely would have passed there?" smile on his face. Classic."
The Sports Maunderer has a relative who will go nameless (her name rhymes with smatherine) who repeatedly beats him over the head for not appreciating Kobe enough. This, in a nutshell, is why. My favorite part of basketball--by far--is passing. It isn't always the smart play. Sometimes, for instance, Lebron passes too often. MJ always passed pretty much the correct amount (when you are as good of a scorer as he was, passing is rarely the best play, but he still got plenty of awesome assists because when it was the correct play, he made it). Magic Johnson... well he was Magic Johnson. Before my time but I'm told he didn't suck. Even dominant big men like Tim Duncan (who I can't stand) and Shaq would pass out of double teams. not necessaril pretty, but effective. Pau Gasol, for that matter, a Kobe-teammate and 7-footer, is a really good passer who has beautiful assists from time to time.
When I play or watch basketball, I look for awesome passes. Like this. Or any of Lebron's other 10,000,000,000 amazing passes. Lebron plays with the worst team in basketball and yet he manages to make several amazing assists per game, and would average a triple double if his team knocked down shots. Kobe has a veritable all-star team and they play like an all-star team. they win in spite of themselves. They just have too much talent to lose.
The Lakers should crush people. They should destroy them. They certainly shouldn't be getting blocked from behind on the last play of regulation with a chance to win. This, right here, is why I don't root for Kobe (besides, you know, that business in Colorado). He is either too arrogant or too stupid or not good enough to know when to give the ball up. I don't think he isn't good enough, and I don't think he's too stupid.
Maybe it isn't arrogance though. Maybe it is insecurity. Maybe he feels like if he doesn't get every game winning shot, he isn't good enough. Either way, it is a crime against a beautiful sport. I would think that smatherine would understand that.
Closers. Hah.
I am writing this entry in large part because I am not watching any more NBA games and I have suddenly a wealth of free time.
Once upon a time, the stars of the league were tall, fast, smooth, and could jump out of a building. Now, they are tiny, old, and look like this. Not sure exactly when this happened but alas.
I am in a truculent mood. So ornery is my mood, in fact, I have decided to ponder the sacrilegious: Mariano Rivera is overrated.
Most of you have stopped reading by now, and are already excoriating me in the comments section, but that’s okay, I’ll just talk to myself for a little while.
First, it must be remembered that “overrated” doesn’t mean “not spectacular”. Rivera is clearly one of the better one-inning pitchers ever. But I both question the notion that a one-inning pitcher as used currently is all that important, and I question the notion that Rivera is this lights-out-automatic-end-the-game-now closer.
In the regular season, Rivera has been very very good. But Trevor Hoffman has been better, and no one has ever heard of him. Why? His team never gets to the playoffs. This isn’t really his fault but let’s assume that the playoffs do define one’s career.
Has Rivera really been untouchable in the playoffs? I would say no. Let’s forget the ’96 season for a second because my grand finale (read: soliloquy) will end up there. But since then, Rivera:
Blew the 1997 playoffs for the Yankees.
Blew the 2001 World Series for the Yankees.
Most atrociously of all, was almost entirely responsible for the debacle that was 2004. don’t talk about A-Rod or Sheffield or Jeter not hitting in game 6. Those guys got the team to a 3-0 series lead with a 2-run lead in the 8th inning of game 4.
This is where the lights out automatic end the game now closer is supposed to take you to the World Series. Rivera blew it.
Then, in game 5, they got him another lead.
He blew it.
This isn’t exactly the soul crushing pitcher you hear about.
And this ignores, for the moment, that in the regular season, Rivera basically stinks against the most important team the Yankees play: the Red Sox. His save percentage against the nefarious Bostonians is a pathetic number to behold. So pathetic I will not even hurt your eyes by posting it online. And have you ever noticed how every hitter in the Red Sox line-up has a Ty Cobb-like average against Mo?
I loathe admitting it, but when the “greatest Yankee pitcher of all time” sucks against the Red Sox, he isn’t the greatest Yankee pitcher of all time.
Some of this may be piling on, given Rivera’s sub-par (or above par, if we are going to make any sense at all) season thus far. But the truth is that he has a ridiculously simple job: come in with nobody on, and get 3 (sometimes 6) people out. Even if we give him sole credit for the Yankees winning 3 World Series in a row (and that would be stupid) he was pretty solely responsible for them losing several World Series that the rest of the team had put them in a position to win. Lights out automatic? I think not.
In 1996, he was not the “closer” (a ridiculous term that has stunted baseball’s strategic growth beyond belief). He was just a reliever brought in when the going got tough for a starter or other reliever. And he was nearly unhittable. John Wetteland got the MVP for getting three guys out with nobody on in the ninth a few times, but Rivera was the guy who got three guys out with runners at the corners. That was important. That was baseball.
Closers have become such pampered babies that I think they have lost a little bit of the mettle that makes them effective in the first place. Remember: no one starts a closer. They almost always begin their careers as set up men. Set up men have to the actual dirty work. Ramiro Mendoza was probably as important as Rivera from 98-00. Rivera was once the guy who came in when the going got rough, not when the scoreboard said “9th”. I don’t necessarily postulate that closing makes them lose their nerves, but heck, maybe it does.
The reality is this: Rivera has stayed incredibly healthy throughout his career, and has been on a winning team every single season in his career. He always has a ton of saves because there are always a ton of games to save. He also has good “numbers” in the postseason but the only moments I remember Rivera for in the postseason are: ’96 when he wasn’t a “closer”, ’97 when he blew it, 2001 when he blew it, and 2004 when he blew it (twice). This is unfair as a closer is often remembered more for his mistakes than his successes. But in a game where scoring a run in an inning is REALLY REALLY hard (much less two or even three, which also count as “save situations”), the greatest Yankee pitcher of all time probably shouldn’t be a 50/50 proposition in the playoffs, right?
(Editors note: none of this should be interpreted as an attempt to detract from Rivera’s rightful place as one of the great Yankee pitchers. He is very very good at getting three outs with nobody on. Not so much against the Red Sox, or in game sevens of the World Series, but whatever. The point is: don’t you long for the days when he came in when they needed him? He is most likely not up to that anymore--his ERA right now is lower than Wang’s, which is about the only good thing you can say--but there is someone on the Yankees who is. His name rhymes with Doba Schmamberlain, and he can throw the ball 100mph. Time to wake up, Joe).
Once upon a time, the stars of the league were tall, fast, smooth, and could jump out of a building. Now, they are tiny, old, and look like this. Not sure exactly when this happened but alas.
I am in a truculent mood. So ornery is my mood, in fact, I have decided to ponder the sacrilegious: Mariano Rivera is overrated.
Most of you have stopped reading by now, and are already excoriating me in the comments section, but that’s okay, I’ll just talk to myself for a little while.
First, it must be remembered that “overrated” doesn’t mean “not spectacular”. Rivera is clearly one of the better one-inning pitchers ever. But I both question the notion that a one-inning pitcher as used currently is all that important, and I question the notion that Rivera is this lights-out-automatic-end-the-game-now closer.
In the regular season, Rivera has been very very good. But Trevor Hoffman has been better, and no one has ever heard of him. Why? His team never gets to the playoffs. This isn’t really his fault but let’s assume that the playoffs do define one’s career.
Has Rivera really been untouchable in the playoffs? I would say no. Let’s forget the ’96 season for a second because my grand finale (read: soliloquy) will end up there. But since then, Rivera:
Blew the 1997 playoffs for the Yankees.
Blew the 2001 World Series for the Yankees.
Most atrociously of all, was almost entirely responsible for the debacle that was 2004. don’t talk about A-Rod or Sheffield or Jeter not hitting in game 6. Those guys got the team to a 3-0 series lead with a 2-run lead in the 8th inning of game 4.
This is where the lights out automatic end the game now closer is supposed to take you to the World Series. Rivera blew it.
Then, in game 5, they got him another lead.
He blew it.
This isn’t exactly the soul crushing pitcher you hear about.
And this ignores, for the moment, that in the regular season, Rivera basically stinks against the most important team the Yankees play: the Red Sox. His save percentage against the nefarious Bostonians is a pathetic number to behold. So pathetic I will not even hurt your eyes by posting it online. And have you ever noticed how every hitter in the Red Sox line-up has a Ty Cobb-like average against Mo?
I loathe admitting it, but when the “greatest Yankee pitcher of all time” sucks against the Red Sox, he isn’t the greatest Yankee pitcher of all time.
Some of this may be piling on, given Rivera’s sub-par (or above par, if we are going to make any sense at all) season thus far. But the truth is that he has a ridiculously simple job: come in with nobody on, and get 3 (sometimes 6) people out. Even if we give him sole credit for the Yankees winning 3 World Series in a row (and that would be stupid) he was pretty solely responsible for them losing several World Series that the rest of the team had put them in a position to win. Lights out automatic? I think not.
In 1996, he was not the “closer” (a ridiculous term that has stunted baseball’s strategic growth beyond belief). He was just a reliever brought in when the going got tough for a starter or other reliever. And he was nearly unhittable. John Wetteland got the MVP for getting three guys out with nobody on in the ninth a few times, but Rivera was the guy who got three guys out with runners at the corners. That was important. That was baseball.
Closers have become such pampered babies that I think they have lost a little bit of the mettle that makes them effective in the first place. Remember: no one starts a closer. They almost always begin their careers as set up men. Set up men have to the actual dirty work. Ramiro Mendoza was probably as important as Rivera from 98-00. Rivera was once the guy who came in when the going got rough, not when the scoreboard said “9th”. I don’t necessarily postulate that closing makes them lose their nerves, but heck, maybe it does.
The reality is this: Rivera has stayed incredibly healthy throughout his career, and has been on a winning team every single season in his career. He always has a ton of saves because there are always a ton of games to save. He also has good “numbers” in the postseason but the only moments I remember Rivera for in the postseason are: ’96 when he wasn’t a “closer”, ’97 when he blew it, 2001 when he blew it, and 2004 when he blew it (twice). This is unfair as a closer is often remembered more for his mistakes than his successes. But in a game where scoring a run in an inning is REALLY REALLY hard (much less two or even three, which also count as “save situations”), the greatest Yankee pitcher of all time probably shouldn’t be a 50/50 proposition in the playoffs, right?
(Editors note: none of this should be interpreted as an attempt to detract from Rivera’s rightful place as one of the great Yankee pitchers. He is very very good at getting three outs with nobody on. Not so much against the Red Sox, or in game sevens of the World Series, but whatever. The point is: don’t you long for the days when he came in when they needed him? He is most likely not up to that anymore--his ERA right now is lower than Wang’s, which is about the only good thing you can say--but there is someone on the Yankees who is. His name rhymes with Doba Schmamberlain, and he can throw the ball 100mph. Time to wake up, Joe).
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