Hardcourt Rituals

Yes, the NBA's outside shooting continues its decades-long erosion thanks to the steady influx of high schoolers. Yes, the trash talking, shirt popping and chest pounding have grown to epidemically thuggish heights. But we'll save the social commentary for another day and, instead, focus on two much smaller NBA items -- rituals, if you will -- that are teeth-gnashingly irritating.

The Free Throw Gathering.
A player is fouled in the act of shooting. He goes to the "charity stripe." He shoots the first of two free throws. He either makes or misses the shot. Is the ball then immediately returned to him for the second shot? No. First, said shooter must be surrounded by his other four teammates who pat him on the head, back and ass, bump his fists and offer words of wisdom. Why? If the foulee misses the shot, does he really need to be somethered with rhythm-busting encouragement? If he makes it, are congratulations really in order? This is, after all, a completely uncontested, 15-foot shot that professional basketball players should make at an 80% clip. Enough already.

The Swatted Shot Celebration.
Need evidence that we're at the apex of the "look at me" era in sports? Look no further than the state of the blocked shot. There's no denying that the act is a thing of beauty -- stunning leaps, stretched limbs, halted ball trajectory. But here's the thing: unless the ball is secured afterward, the blocker has done his team virtually no favor at all. Bill Russell, the former Celtic great, probably blocked more shots than any other player in history (such records have only been kept since the 70s). But he definitely kept more blocks in play, thus giving his team possession of the ball. Today's shot blocking "specialists" are too enamored with the spectacle of the ball being swatted into the tenth row to worry about such trivial things. Who cares if the other team gets the ball back? I get to wag my finger, roar and watch the crowd salivate!

Battle won. War lost.