Tuesday, October 23, 2012
http://tech.mit.edu/V123/N66/66_-_nba.66s.html While I respect the opinions voiced by Mr. Chase in his Jan 21 column entitled “Why the NCAA is Better than the NBA,” I would like to provide a counterpoint to his arguments, arguing against several of the six points that he made.First, the NBA provides one of the most fair and level playing grounds of any college or professional sports (the NFL may have a better system for player movement, but their 16-game season prevents them from creating an unbiased schedule). They have a salary cap and a collective bargaining agreement in place which maintains moderate league parity and controls player movement. The aspect of fairness comes in when one examines the 82 game schedule.For example, each Western Conference team plays every other team in the conference four times, and every Eastern Conference team twice (the even number of games further allows you to play each opponent the same number of times at home as on the road). So, when the playoffs come around, tiebreakers will involve a comparison of apples to apples. So, to compare NCAA basketball with the NBA point-by-point, I comment below on the six reasons that Mr. Chase cited as positives for NCAA basketball.1. EgosJust because college players are not paid (at least not legally) does not make them more humble. If you asked Division I starters how many of them think they’d make it in the NBA, a disproportionate number would say yes. To illustrate, 34 players declared early entry in the NBA draft (a few withdrew before draft day after obtaining advice from NBA insiders regarding their prospects), and only 11 were taken. Of course, these college players are said to have “ambition” instead of “ego,” but their take on how they should be treated vis-a-vis the rest of the team and the league is the same.2. Playing StyleI agree with Mr. Chase that the playing style in college basketball is more team-oriented. However, just because it is a team game doesn’t make the sport more fun to watch. Otherwise, you could argue that the most exciting basketball is seen by watching a group of high school seniors who have practiced and played together throughout their entire secondary school education. They exhibit the best teamwork and might not have a single superstar. The most exciting basketball is played by the best players, which are primarily in the NBA. With the legalization of zone defenses in the NBA, more team efforts will overcome individual efforts. However, these games are still exciting because you are watching the best players work together. So, my point is that people like to watch NBA-caliber players play, regardless of style.3. College FansFair enough, no argument here. College students generally show much more fanaticism than the average businessman fan at a pro game.4. ParityWith the advent of rampant free agency in all pro sports, as well as college players leaving early for professional drafts, it seems that the word “parity” became the catch-phrase of the 90s. No longer was it exciting to have teams like the Celtics and Lakers dominate pro basketball, or the likes of UCLA and Kentucky dominating the ranks of college ball. I think that TV execs came up with that idea and pushed it forward in order to convince viewers that match-ups that weren’t compelling actually were because “in any given day, anyone can win.” Consider this: in the semifinals of any contest, would you rather watch the top teams play each other, or mismatches due to earlier round upsets?Since the NCAA tournament increased the field in 1979 (from 32 teams to 48; the tournament was later increased to 64, then 65), a #1 seed has won the tournament 14 of 25 times (56 percent); so, almost half the time, one of the top four teams in the country did not win the title. For college football fans, imagine how ludicrous it would be this past year, if instead of deciding who of OU, USC, and LSU should be number 1, there was a 50 percent chance that none of them would be the national champ this year? Contrast this to the NBA, where since the field increased to 16 teams (from 12, in 1984), a division champion (one of the top four NBA teams) has won 18 out of 20 times (90%).Even so, it’s still rarely clear who will win the NBA title each year. I disagree that “you usually know which [team will win] by the first round of the playoffs.” Last year, very few voters thought San Antonio would win it all after the first round (the second round match-up with the Lakers, as well as their shaky first round against Phoenix, contributed to this). The San Antonio/Los Angeles, Dallas/Sacramento, Dallas/San Antonio, and San Antonio/New Jersey series were all pretty good ones to watch, in the final three rounds.On the flipside, which great Final Four matchups do you remember? The last great one I can think of was Duke/UConn in 1999. Everyone wanted to see Kentucky/Arizona last year, but that never happened. In 2000, the Final Four had #1 seed Michigan St, and a five and two eight seeds, which looked like a pre-season Spartan invitational. In that year, the only match-ups of top 10 teams occurred in the Midwest Final when MSU defeated Iowa State (effectively the national title game). Sure, it might be fun during the moment to see Marquette shock Kentucky and Kansas beat Arizona, but you come to realize the consequences the next day, which is that Final Four weekend will once again be a let-down.5. PermanenceMr. Chase writes, “There is a much better chance the team you root for will be around for as long as you are, and there is no chance of the team being sold or moving cities.” Since 1985, when the Kansas City Kings moved to Sacramento, only two teams have moved in the NBA (Vancouver to Memphis, and Charlotte to New Orleans). So, most NBA teams stay in the same place, and most superstars stay with their team. When you think of Paul Pierce, Tim Duncan, Kevin Garnett, and Kobe Bryant, you think of Boston, San Antonio, Minnesota, and the Lakers, respectively.Even players who have moved earlier on in their career have general associations with their current team (Shaquille O’Neal, Jason Kidd, Chris Webber). In the NCAA, players jump for the NBA so quickly that it’s hard to keep up with the stars of each team (I acknowledge that this is as much a fault of the NBA as it is college, but that’s the current state of things). Sure, Syracuse will be Syracuse, but in 2003, they are no longer Carmelo Anthony’s Syracuse Orangemen. Permanence of a school or franchise is meaningless if there is no association with the individuals on the team.6. PlayoffsThe NBA playoff system provides a good mix of fairness with excitement. A team does not lose the fruits of an 82-game season by having a single bad day in the spring. Teams that advance in the playoffs have to show consistency and excellence. This does not take away from the excitement or competitiveness of series (the Detroit/Orlando first round series was exciting even though #8 seeded Orlando lost a 3-1 series lead). If you reduced the NCAA tournament to 16 teams and had four best-of-three weekends (if you want to keep the excitement of the tournament, you certainly could grant the top eight teams byes into the final tourney, and have the other 8 spots up for grabs), you would have some high caliber college basketball and excitement similar to what you have now. With regard to fairness, the seeding process has no subjectivity.In college basketball (as well as football and baseball), individual opinions determine the placement of teams in the post-season competition. In the NBA, your winning percentage determines where you are placed, which is the ultimate level of fairness given that the schedule is balanced between your team and all other teams in your conference. Granted, the only aspect of unfairness is deciding who gets home field advantage in the NBA Finals, since teams from each conference play different schedules. For example, the Pacers may have home field throughout this year, but this is a minor thing compared to major league baseball, which has intra-divisional unbalanced schedules, and the NFL, where 14 of your 16 games are concentrated in three of the eight divisions, making wild card comparisons highly inequitable.Long story short, of all major college and professional sports in America, the NBA does the best job of balancing competitive fairness with fan excitement. Evidence of this fact can be seen by the growth in fan interest the past decade (compared with sports like MLB, which have seen fan attrition).
http://bleacherreport.com/articles/1041494-college-basketball-nba-comparisons-for-anthony-davis-and-20-ncaa-stars
College basketball's biggest stars such as Anthony Davis and Harrison Barnes grew up patterning their game after current and former NBA stars. Fans and media members alike love to make comparisons to which star's skill set resembles an athlete at the professional level.
Because of these comparisons, heated arguments are held all across America each and every day.
Some of these stars have games that seem tailored to match former NBA players, while others emulate current athletes terrorizing arenas around the country.
While not all of these college standouts are destined for greatness at the next level of basketball, many of them are suited to become quality starters and rotation players for their future franchises.
College basketball's biggest stars such as Anthony Davis and Harrison Barnes grew up patterning their game after current and former NBA stars. Fans and media members alike love to make comparisons to which star's skill set resembles an athlete at the professional level.
Because of these comparisons, heated arguments are held all across America each and every day.
Some of these stars have games that seem tailored to match former NBA players, while others emulate current athletes terrorizing arenas around the country.
While not all of these college standouts are destined for greatness at the next level of basketball, many of them are suited to become quality starters and rotation players for their future franchises.
http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2011/03/ncaa-vs-nba-settling-the-annual-basketball-fan-battle/72583/
Every year at the start of March Madness, there's disagreement over which manifestation of the sport is superior: college or professional. Let's end the argument once and for all.
Every March, a low-level word-skirmish breaks out between die-hard NBA supporters, and the millions upon millions in thrall to the NCAA tournament. NBA partisans, like myself, will point out that the players are just plain better, the stakes higher, and when the game is good, the quality of play simply unmatched in the professional league. There is such a thing as a quality NBA game that doesn't depend on teleology alone. College fans contend that the NBA is spring-loaded with the same kind of thrills and chills; it celebrates the very same superhumans that March Madness can bring crashing down to Earth; and rugged team-oriented ball is always preferable to watching a great individual performer create for himself. It's an old argument, one that at this point, I'm tired of rehashing. So I will be sitting it out this year. But the truth is, I also just don't see the conflict anymore.
March Madness is fun for what it is. Every year, thousands of man-hours are lost at work, families destroyed by what seem like harmless bracket pools, and if all goes according to plan, upsets happen, chaos reigns, and nothing goes according to plan. Oh, and all those brackets invariably end up a pile of nonsense after the first round or two. This, for many sports fans, is paradise--total chaos, the glory of trashed expectations, and a thrill ride that will make the next few weeks on big adventure.
Holding the tournament up as everything sports should be, though, is like wanting to move into a swimming pool, or children saying they plan to eat nothing but candy. It suspends order and reason; fleeting moments of bravery are rewarded, and long-term accomplishments erased in a split-second. This makes for an event, an occasion, a blast-furnace of television that will send your pulse flying out of the side of your neck. That doesn't mean, though, that this self-described lunacy is a perfect model for sports. Fun, yes. But if you want to compare the NBA and college ball, compare their regular seasons. That the NCAA itself only puts so much stock in the regular season should tell you something.
The NCAA plays a regular season of basketball, lasting from November up until the conference champions were crowned earlier this month. These frantic, single-elimination tournaments, though, are a bridge between months of cumulative failure or success, and a preview of what's to come in March. They bring known rivals into play, but bank on what remains college ball's irresistible premise: Everybody is a winner, and anyone can win, except for the big dogs who unfairly stack their squads and are expected to go all the way, spoiling the party by lending themselves to the most logical outcome.
The villains of March Madness, those spoilers who threaten to rob the tournament of its magical moments and Cinderella stories, are the heavyweights stacked, in many cases, with future NBA players. Some of these schools, like Kentucky, are seen as little more than finishing schools for elite prep players. They attract the best players because coach John Calipari makes it his goal to turn them loose on the pros as fast as possible. The tournament's love of the unpredictable, the unlikely, and above all else, the underdog, is in many ways a refutation of a basketball meritocracy.
NFL fans embrace the "any given Sunday" doctrine, which gives any honest effort a chance. The very revealing "madness" of March Madness is its negative—that, in a perfect world, the mighty shall fall, the meek shall inherit the Final Four, and we will all be happier (if poorer) for it.
Invariably, when the world gets all high on March Madness, there will be loud pronouncement that this isn't only the best sports has to offer, it's also basketball at its finest. This ignores, of course, the fact that most of these games are borderline unwatchable, or at least those that come closest to fulfilling the March Madness ideal. Bad teams rarely wallop very good ones, so upsets are slow-mo, grinding affairs, characterized by lots of late free throws, much in the way of ambient drama and tense close-ups, and above all else, an outcome that writes its own headline. If the bad guys win a close one, it's all been for naught: scraggly process in the service of evil. If the confusion train goes roaring along? It was all worth it, we have no idea what's next, and a sporting event has been turned into something between a roller coast and a shock corridor.
I'm not trying to discourage you from enjoying the tournament. On the contrary, these are all wonderful, lovable qualities, as long as they're kept in perspective. As in: People of the world, whatever this is, it is not basketball. College or otherwise.
It's easy to counter with a critique of the NBA's own playoffs: A long slog that is often referred to as a "second season". The key difference is, it doesn't invite fans to forget about all that came before—to hope for its overturn, even. The NBA season is about an unbroken narrative, one that winds from beginning to end and takes its sweet time to unfold. College ball stakes its credibility on a tournament that invites anarchy and shock. One seems safe in its skin; the other prays for gimmickry. Is one superior to the other? It's comparing apples and oranges.
Every year at the start of March Madness, there's disagreement over which manifestation of the sport is superior: college or professional. Let's end the argument once and for all.
Every March, a low-level word-skirmish breaks out between die-hard NBA supporters, and the millions upon millions in thrall to the NCAA tournament. NBA partisans, like myself, will point out that the players are just plain better, the stakes higher, and when the game is good, the quality of play simply unmatched in the professional league. There is such a thing as a quality NBA game that doesn't depend on teleology alone. College fans contend that the NBA is spring-loaded with the same kind of thrills and chills; it celebrates the very same superhumans that March Madness can bring crashing down to Earth; and rugged team-oriented ball is always preferable to watching a great individual performer create for himself. It's an old argument, one that at this point, I'm tired of rehashing. So I will be sitting it out this year. But the truth is, I also just don't see the conflict anymore.
March Madness is fun for what it is. Every year, thousands of man-hours are lost at work, families destroyed by what seem like harmless bracket pools, and if all goes according to plan, upsets happen, chaos reigns, and nothing goes according to plan. Oh, and all those brackets invariably end up a pile of nonsense after the first round or two. This, for many sports fans, is paradise--total chaos, the glory of trashed expectations, and a thrill ride that will make the next few weeks on big adventure.
Holding the tournament up as everything sports should be, though, is like wanting to move into a swimming pool, or children saying they plan to eat nothing but candy. It suspends order and reason; fleeting moments of bravery are rewarded, and long-term accomplishments erased in a split-second. This makes for an event, an occasion, a blast-furnace of television that will send your pulse flying out of the side of your neck. That doesn't mean, though, that this self-described lunacy is a perfect model for sports. Fun, yes. But if you want to compare the NBA and college ball, compare their regular seasons. That the NCAA itself only puts so much stock in the regular season should tell you something.
The NCAA plays a regular season of basketball, lasting from November up until the conference champions were crowned earlier this month. These frantic, single-elimination tournaments, though, are a bridge between months of cumulative failure or success, and a preview of what's to come in March. They bring known rivals into play, but bank on what remains college ball's irresistible premise: Everybody is a winner, and anyone can win, except for the big dogs who unfairly stack their squads and are expected to go all the way, spoiling the party by lending themselves to the most logical outcome.
The villains of March Madness, those spoilers who threaten to rob the tournament of its magical moments and Cinderella stories, are the heavyweights stacked, in many cases, with future NBA players. Some of these schools, like Kentucky, are seen as little more than finishing schools for elite prep players. They attract the best players because coach John Calipari makes it his goal to turn them loose on the pros as fast as possible. The tournament's love of the unpredictable, the unlikely, and above all else, the underdog, is in many ways a refutation of a basketball meritocracy.
NFL fans embrace the "any given Sunday" doctrine, which gives any honest effort a chance. The very revealing "madness" of March Madness is its negative—that, in a perfect world, the mighty shall fall, the meek shall inherit the Final Four, and we will all be happier (if poorer) for it.
Invariably, when the world gets all high on March Madness, there will be loud pronouncement that this isn't only the best sports has to offer, it's also basketball at its finest. This ignores, of course, the fact that most of these games are borderline unwatchable, or at least those that come closest to fulfilling the March Madness ideal. Bad teams rarely wallop very good ones, so upsets are slow-mo, grinding affairs, characterized by lots of late free throws, much in the way of ambient drama and tense close-ups, and above all else, an outcome that writes its own headline. If the bad guys win a close one, it's all been for naught: scraggly process in the service of evil. If the confusion train goes roaring along? It was all worth it, we have no idea what's next, and a sporting event has been turned into something between a roller coast and a shock corridor.
I'm not trying to discourage you from enjoying the tournament. On the contrary, these are all wonderful, lovable qualities, as long as they're kept in perspective. As in: People of the world, whatever this is, it is not basketball. College or otherwise.
It's easy to counter with a critique of the NBA's own playoffs: A long slog that is often referred to as a "second season". The key difference is, it doesn't invite fans to forget about all that came before—to hope for its overturn, even. The NBA season is about an unbroken narrative, one that winds from beginning to end and takes its sweet time to unfold. College ball stakes its credibility on a tournament that invites anarchy and shock. One seems safe in its skin; the other prays for gimmickry. Is one superior to the other? It's comparing apples and oranges.
http://basketball.about.com/od/collegebasketball101/a/nbavsncaa.htm
NCAA teams also have a little more time to advance the ball across half-court after a made basket: 10 seconds, as opposed to 8 in the NBA.
The most obvious difference - one that you'll notice whenever a NCAA game is played in an NBA arena - is the shorter three-point shot at the collegiate level. An NBA "three" is taken from 23'9" (or 22" in the corners). The NCAA three-point line is a constant 19'9".A subtler difference is the width of the lane, or the "paint." The NBA lane is 16 feet wide. In college it's 12 feet.
Then there's the tricky part: team fouls. First off, let's differentiate between shooting and non-shooting fouls. A player fouled in the act of shooting gets free throws, but other transgressions - "reaching in," for example - are "non-shooting" unless the offending team is "in the penalty." In other words, a team can commit a certain number of non-shooting fouls per period before giving up free throws to the other team.
Quarters vs. Halves
The NBA plays four 12-minute quarters. NCAA games are comprised of two 20-minute halves. In both the NBA and NCAA, an overtime period is five minutes.The Clock
The NBA shot clock is 24 seconds. The NCAA shot clock is 35. This is one of several reasons you'll see such wide disparities in scoring in NCAA games - some teams really try to work the clock, play strong defense and end up with final scores in the 50-60 range. Others play up-tempo, hoist a lot of three-pointers, and post NBA-like scores in the 80s, 90s and 100s.NCAA teams also have a little more time to advance the ball across half-court after a made basket: 10 seconds, as opposed to 8 in the NBA.
Distances
The height of the basket and the distance between backboard and foul line is universal. The overall dimensions of the court - 94 feet long by 50 feet wide - are the same in NBA and NCAA ball as well. But that's where the similarities end.The most obvious difference - one that you'll notice whenever a NCAA game is played in an NBA arena - is the shorter three-point shot at the collegiate level. An NBA "three" is taken from 23'9" (or 22" in the corners). The NCAA three-point line is a constant 19'9".A subtler difference is the width of the lane, or the "paint." The NBA lane is 16 feet wide. In college it's 12 feet.
Fouls
NBA players get six personal fouls before fouling out. NCAA players get five.Then there's the tricky part: team fouls. First off, let's differentiate between shooting and non-shooting fouls. A player fouled in the act of shooting gets free throws, but other transgressions - "reaching in," for example - are "non-shooting" unless the offending team is "in the penalty." In other words, a team can commit a certain number of non-shooting fouls per period before giving up free throws to the other team.
Monday, October 22, 2012
http://www.cbssports.com/nba/blog/eye-on-basketball/20634917/
So it will finally happen. Dwight Howard will make his Lakers debut on Sunday night, Oct. 21, against the Sacramento Kings in a preseason game. And after a year of the Dwightmare, after all the nonsense, after back surgery that was supposed to keep him out months and instead will allow him to play in the preseason, Howard returns to professional basketball, this time in a Lakers jersey.
It's unlikely Howard will play extended minutes as he continues to recover, but he's not playing with any "minute restrictions." It will be the first time we see Howard, Steve Nash and Kobe Bryant (and Pau Gasol) share the floor, which will be surreal.
The keys to watch are his general conditioning and how he operates in the pick and roll with Nash. He'll be guarded by a big, physical opponent in DeMarcus Cousins, but he should have a size advantage because, well, he always has a size advantage.
Howard hasn't played professional basketball in seven months. There was talk that he could be out until January or later and that the Lakers' title hopes would therefore be compromised. But as usual with Howard, the simplest explanation winds up true. He wound up with the Lakers, he returns in the preseason, and the Lakers' title challenge officially begins on Sunday night, even in preseason.
We'll keep you updated on how it works out for Howard in his debut with the Lakeshow.
So it will finally happen. Dwight Howard will make his Lakers debut on Sunday night, Oct. 21, against the Sacramento Kings in a preseason game. And after a year of the Dwightmare, after all the nonsense, after back surgery that was supposed to keep him out months and instead will allow him to play in the preseason, Howard returns to professional basketball, this time in a Lakers jersey.
It's unlikely Howard will play extended minutes as he continues to recover, but he's not playing with any "minute restrictions." It will be the first time we see Howard, Steve Nash and Kobe Bryant (and Pau Gasol) share the floor, which will be surreal.
The keys to watch are his general conditioning and how he operates in the pick and roll with Nash. He'll be guarded by a big, physical opponent in DeMarcus Cousins, but he should have a size advantage because, well, he always has a size advantage.
Howard hasn't played professional basketball in seven months. There was talk that he could be out until January or later and that the Lakers' title hopes would therefore be compromised. But as usual with Howard, the simplest explanation winds up true. He wound up with the Lakers, he returns in the preseason, and the Lakers' title challenge officially begins on Sunday night, even in preseason.
We'll keep you updated on how it works out for Howard in his debut with the Lakeshow.
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