Crime and Punishment

This morning I made breakfast for my mother. It was her birthday.

Just as she and I were finishing up, my grandmother stopped by the house. The three of us sat around for a while, drinking coffee and bullshitting. Then my sister walked in the door.

"Did you watch the Tiger Woods press conference?" she asked.

"No, I didn't. Damn. I forgot all about it," I told her.

Being the sports fanatic I am, I never (and I mean never) miss one of these fallen-star-apologizes-to-the-public-for-misstep-type episodes. It's hard not to. Besides the historical significance, and the fact that it's live, I'm always intrigued by the aura surrounding such events.

I watched every episode of the Roger Clemens saga unfold. I tuned in when Michael Vick apologized. But my personal favorite was the Alex Rodriquez/Peter Gammons interview. In fact, I must have watched it five times within the two hours after it aired.

Why? Because the singularity of these moments are undeniable.

Not that I promote press conference-worthy poor behavior from those in the spotlight, but I like to read someone's body language, listen to the tone in their voice, and see for myself just how sorry they are.

Plus, it's fascinating to see fiery, egotistical mega-stars look human once in a while. It helps to keep my imagination (and therefore my expectations of such persons) in check. After all, while the expression may sound trite, no one is perfect -- regardless of how the media portrays them.



As for the Tiger press conference this morning, I certainly hadn't intended to miss it. It could have simply been a matter of me forgetting. Or maybe I'm just tired of this broken record of a story.

Either way, I suppose it proves how little I care about Tiger Woods' personal life, or what he has to say to the world about his highly-publicized sexual encounters.

Though I strongly disagree with his actions, I have no problem with Tiger Woods the person. He did nothing to hurt me. Am I disappointed in him? Sure. But I'm disappointed in any one of the six billion-plus earthlings that consciously hurts another human being.

I'm interested in Tigers Woods the golfer. I don't want to watch him have sex. I want to watch him dominate on Sundays. I want to see him break every golf record that stands unbroken today.

I liked Tiger Woods before news of his car crash on Thanksgiving night, and I'll stand by him in the future. Why shouldn't I? I know many good people who have committed (or been an accessory to) adultery, some who've torn families apart. As a matter of fact, we all do.

That's why I don't understand the animosity towards Tiger. How can someone have such a high approval rating one day, and then such a low approval rating the next?

Here's my theory: Because most people are unhappy (to some degree) with the lives they lead, they feel it's necessary to inject drama into everyday life. They get far too high when something positive happens, and then far too low when something negative happens.

This surely keeps things interesting -- but at what cost?

These melodramatic individuals -- which, incidentally, are the majority of Americans -- let their emotions get the best of them, leading to rash behavior. Instead of taking the time to think rationally, they finger-point and blurt out whatever is running through their senseless minds at the moment.

Take the Tiger situation, for example. Angry people all over the country insisted that Tiger Woods was a wimp, a sissy, a coward, a coached-up PR droid that was too [insert your favorite phrase or adjective here] to hold a Q&A at this morning's press conference. They felt that a prepared speech wasn't enough.

Whoa, let's back up for a moment.

Now that we've come to realize that we all know at least one genuinely good person that's cheated on his/her spouse in the past, let's think about how many of those people have had to sit down in front of millions upon millions of viewers on both the television and the Internet in countries all over the world.

My guess? Zero.

However, that was only step one in the long line of punishment (fair or not) that Tiger Woods will walk. Personally, I believe that what Tiger did today was more than enough. Did he have to apologize to the public? No. Does he have to explain himself? Of course not.

There are many people who suddenly hate The World's Greatest Golfer. The funny thing is, many of these same people thought so highly of him just a few months ago.



Now of these Tiger-haters, I'm going to assume that the majority is Christian. Living in the United States of America, that's a fair assumption, no?

Well if that is indeed the case, how can so much hatred, ridicule and judgment be placed upon Tiger? As I'm sure any Bible enthusiast could tell you, quoting the book of Matthew (in modern English): "Do not judge, or you too will be judged."

Despite my many reservations for this holy book, that certainly seems like one fine rule to me. Yet most Americans (the majority of which are Christian) can or do not follow this simple creed, the so-called word of god.

But before I branch off even further, exposing the many contradictions in America's holy book, let me re-focus my attention to the problem at hand...

In situations like this, the Tiger Woods scandal, the general public (for reasons that are beyond me) feels this arrogant entitlement. It wants to know everything about everything, immediately. It has no patience for a lapse in time nor a lack of detail.

I wonder where this sense of entitlement arises. It's as if Tiger and Elin Woods' marriage has some bearing on us, the public, and we therefore need to know every detail of this never-ending story.

It's one thing if our government is lying to us, and we demand from it the truth. But to expect the same from a professional golfer seems utterly silly.

Undoubtedly, this wouldn't be the story it is today if the person in question wasn't the world's most recognizable athlete, as very few people on the planet command this much media attention.

But does Tiger's worldwide popularity give us a right to pry into him?

Even if this story never reached the eyes and ears of the public, Tiger Woods was in trouble. He did the crime (or crimes, I suppose) and would have to deal with the consequences of his actions, regardless of whether or not we, the public, knew about them.

It's difficult to decide whether or not the punishment matches the crime when it comes to moral dilemmas such as this -- because honestly, who's to say? But it's hard for me to imagine that Tiger Woods deserves to be judged by the general population the way he has.

Balance of Power

The last few seasons of NBA play have moved professional basketball to the forefront of the American sports scene -- just beyond baseball and far ahead of hockey in both television ratings and the sale of merchandise.

Sure, The Association experienced some lean years around the turn of the millennium, which is often attributed to the end of the Chicago dynasty. But the truth is, while Jordan's Bulls were surely the best team of the 90's, the NBA was loaded with legendary players and teams throughout the decade.

The end of the Jordan era in Chicago was just the tip of the iceberg. Perennial powers across the map (the Houston Rockets, New York Knicks, Phoenix Suns, Utah Jazz, and the artists formerly known as the Charlotte Hornets and Seattle SuperSonics) all fell by the wayside around the same time.

When countless Hall of Famers-to-be retire, and an influx of teenage streetballers think they can run with the big boys, that type of thing is bound to happen. But like the economy, the NBA talent pool has proven to be cyclical, refreshing itself in no time.



Today, 2010, is a new age. The days of B.H.G.W.A. (Ball-Hogging Gunners With Attitude) who play little, if any, defense are long gone. In today's NBA, the best players can do it all.

A new generation -- from Dwight Howard and Rajon Rondo in the East, to Chris Paul and Brandon Roy in the West -- has matured quickly, providing the league with a number of marketable young stars.

Meanwhile, all-time greats such as Kobe Bryant, Tim Duncan, Kevin Garnett, Steve Nash, and Dirk Nowitzki (to name a few) are still playing at a very high level in what many consider to be a young man's league.

That's not all. I can't forget to mention the '03 draft class featuring Carmelo Anthony, Chris Bosh, Dwayne Wade, and LeBron James. These players, drafted in the same month that ratings for the NBA Finals reached an all-time record low, have since helped to restore the NBA's shimmer.

But James, Cleveland's do-it-all hometown hero, is of a different breed. Arguably the world's best player, he transcends basketball.

If "King James" played football, his size and strength would match up with the game's biggest defensive ends, his speed and explosiveness with the most athletic wide receivers, his awareness and savvy playmaking with the most cerebral of quarterbacks.

Combined with these undeniable skills, James' down-to-earth personality and good sense of humor have not only led to infinite endorsements -- which, according to Bloomberg BusinessWeek, make him the world's second-most "powerful" athlete -- but they also set an example for young players.

But while all of these ingredients certainly make the NBA an attractive commodity to the casual basketball fan, it's hard to imagine the sport taking over as America's favorite any time soon.



I could go on forever about why football (our sport of choice in the U.S.) is so appealing, or why the NFL reigns supreme in a country that, for the most part, likes both suspense and violence in its entertainment. But I'd be wasting my time.

Fully-padded men smashing into one another is the nature of football. On the other hand, calling a foul when someone attempting to pass or shoot is simply touched is the nature of basketball. This will never change. We need to look beneath the surface.

As far as I can tell, one noteworthy, underlying factor that separates the NFL from the NBA is competitive balance. The NFL has it. The NBA does not.

For starters, check out the NBA standings...

As of February 6th, there were only six teams with a win percentage at or above .500 in the Eastern Conference. Meanwhile, there were eleven such teams in the Western Conference. This imbalance is typical around the NBA.

(In case you're unfamiliar with how seeding for the NBA postseason works, eight teams from each conference advance to the playoffs -- the three division winners from both the East and West, plus the five best records among non-division winners in each conference.)

This means that, as of February 6th, the Chicago Bulls -- 8th in the East at 23-25 -- have a chance to win a championship, while the Houston Rockets -- 9th in the West, the stronger of the two conferences, at 27-22 -- watch the playoffs on TV. It just doesn't seem fair.

And it's not. But let's keep it real: the Chicago Bulls do not have a legitimate shot to win a championship anyway. A team in their position (sub-.500 yet playoff bound), which we see every year in the Eastern Conference, is usually nothing more than a warm-up series for the East's top seed.



So what can be done about this East/West imbalance?

The NBA could copy the NFL's blueprint, implementing a new playoff format that features just six teams from each conference. This would limit the number of mediocre teams that advance from the East, and reward each conference's top two seeds with a first-round bye.

And it makes even more sense when one considers that no team seeded lower than No. 4 in its conference has advanced to the Finals over the last decade.

But the problem with this format is that -- instead of two, three, or four good teams from the West missing the postseason each year, which is an absurdity to begin with -- as many as five, six, or even seven quality Western Conference teams could be home for the playoffs.

Now that we can rule out that idea, how about realigning the divisions, swapping one or two teams from each conference?

Though it may seem like a logical solution, realignment is not sensible from a geographical perspective. Plus, it makes it difficult to maintain historical rivalries within each conference.

How about this novel idea: eliminating the NBA Draft lottery. Instead of giving the team with the worst record only a twenty-five percent chance of landing the top pick in the draft, how about giving them a one-hundred percent chance?

I understand why the NBA introduced the weighted draft lottery in 1990: It wanted to prevent teams from intentionally losing their remaining games. But while I'm sure that it's not always easy to prove such a thing, wouldn't a fine for teams that tank their season be as effective?

The NFL doesn't hold a draft lottery. The worst team selects first, the best team selects last. Over the years, this has helped to sustain competitive balance. And I'm not just talking about balance between conferences. I'm talking about balance from top to bottom.



From 1999 to 2008, the team with the worst record in the NFL each year -- and therefore the top pick in the subsequent draft (minus the Panthers in '02 due to the expansion Texans) -- improved its win percentage by an average of 29.4 percent. Rounded up, that's an average turnaround of five games. In the NFL, that's a huge difference.

Over that same span, the team with the worst record in the NBA improved its win percentage by an average of 15.8 percent from one season to the next. Rounded up, that's an average turnaround of only thirteen games -- not nearly as impressive as the about-face we've seen over the last decade from the NFL's worst.

As is the case with anything, eliminating the NBA draft lottery alone will not make the NBA more balanced. But considering those staggering numbers, it could help.

Whether or not the generation before me wants to admit it, the NBA is a quality product. It's as healthy as it's been in years, young people love it, and I would estimate that it's -- as far as popularity goes -- the fastest-growing sport in the world.

But until NBA officials figure out a way to make their league more balanced as a whole, it has no chance to overtake football as America's favorite sport.