With apologies to Neil Diamond, pack up the babies and grab the old ladies. The Brother Love (aka Adam Silver) travelling salvation show will be coming to a town near you soon. Actually, it already has, if one considers the media hype.
In his rookie year as NBA Commish, Silver seems to be offering the "greatest show on earth". Yessirree, step right up and buy your tickets now. There's something for everybody. Men, women, children, potted plants, even politicians. The Ringling Brothers would be so proud.
There are free agents galore out touring the country like an aging rock band. A gig in a different town every few days. Most notable amongst them are Lebron James and Carmelo Anthony. Everybody wants to book these guys. Money appears to be no problem. Most towns are not only willing, but begging to give them as much dough as they possibly can. One might think John Lennon and George Harrison have come back from the dead, and the Beatles have been re-united and are for hire.
Then there are the second-tier entertainers, lots of them, that are waiting to see where the headliners are going so they can get in line to be the warm-up acts. Not to mention making a few serious bucks of their own. Any of them showing loyalty to one city? Fuhgettaboutit. It's about the money, fame, and chance to win a championship -- which means more fame, exposure, endorsements, etc. Did I mention obscene amounts of money?
In the meanwhile, the head coach carousel continues to go round and round, with everybody from the "good ole boy" network to brand newbies hopping on and trying to grab a brass ring. It's like a deranged version of multi-million dollar musical chairs.
Incredibly, given expired contracts, opt-out clauses, and the free-agent jockeying for position, some teams only had a couple players still under contract. The Miami Heat had but one. Norris Coles. The guy with the Kim Jong Un haircut. This could be problematic if Pat Riley and the Heat can't sign a few other guys before the next season starts. Coles is a fine player, but his chances of winning games while being the only Miami player on the court aren't exactly good.
Let's not forget the little dust-up still going on in LA with the whole Sterling affair. Combine an 80 year old billionaire owner, a bimbo, supposedly racist comments made during a private conversation, divorce proceedings, allegations of dementia, an army of lawyers, and yet another billionaire willing to pay three times the market value to purchase the team -- and what do you have? Quite the side-show. Beats the heck out of the elephant man or bearded lady behind the curtain.
Yep, if former Commish David Stern oversaw the NBA rising to greater heights during his tenure, his protege Adam Silver has taken it to a new level. The theatre of the absurd.
But none of this happens without the two key ingredients. First is the media, particularly the talking heads, which seem to be multiplying faster than your average school of guppies. Of course, in order to keep their jobs, they have to find something to talk about. Problem is, these folks can go on for hours, days, weeks, forever, breathlessly rambling on about something that was quite trivial to begin with.
Yet they could not exist without those that hang on their every word. Enter the second and most crucial ingredient. A lemming-esque viewing public that apparently has nothing better to do with their lives than worry about which town or team gets to have the dubious privilege of paying some basketball player $20 million a year.
Personally, yours truly couldn't care less where James, Anthony, and the rest of them wind up playing. They can "take their talents" to Miami, NY, Chicago, LA, Cleveland, or any other NBA team. They can go to Europe, Asia, Neptune, or sign on with the Klingon D-league if the money is right. Or they can retire tomorrow. Players and coaches have always come and gone. Even franchises have relocated from one city to another. Contrary to what the yappy heads would have many believe, the current NBA sub-plots are hardly earth-shaking news. Stuff happens. Life goes on. For that matter, most of the spectacles have been a media creation in the first place. Without their constant droning of theories, possibilities, analyses, opinions, predictions, and a gullible public to sell them to, none of this would be big news.
But that seems to be the problem indeed. P.T. Barnum was absolutely right back in his day when he said a sucker was born every minute. Nowadays, there's thousands of them hatching every time the latest "breaking news" flash comes along -- which is about every five minutes.
Phineas Taylor Barnum became a very rich man, but he died in 1891, long before television was even dreamed of. Yet he would likely be proud of the NBA circus that is currently going on under Adam Silver's watch. Give P.T. the same amount of cable channels with their talking heads, and internet sensationalism today, and forget about being the NBA Commish. With that kind of pub, he might be sitting in the Oval Office.
The people that typically reside there also depend on suckers to buy into what they're selling. But that's a story for another day....
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