YouJustGotSUNSD
Custom User Title!
- Joined
- Jun 6, 2007
- Posts
- 5,168
- Reaction score
- 0
http://www.azcentral.com/sports/columns/articles/0725bickley0725.html
Again, Suns on wrong end of history
Dan Bickley
The Arizona Republic
Jul. 25, 2007 12:00 AM
Welcome to our basketball nightmare, the one that never ends.
It's the lost coin flip that sent Lew Alcindor to Milwaukee, not Phoenix. It's Richie Powers not calling a technical foul when Paul Silas screamed for a timeout his Celtics didn't possess, an oversight that skewed the 1976 NBA Finals.
Legend has it that Powers admitted his wrongdoing years later, stating he didn't want to decide a game of such magnitude on such a formality.
OAS_AD('ArticleFlex_1')You must be registered for see images
"Supposedly (the confession) happened at a private golf club in New York, after a few drinks," Suns Chairman Jerry Colangelo said. "But you're going to have to ask someone else."
And, supposedly, former Suns assistant coach Al Bianchi bought a championship ring for himself to protest those stolen Finals, inscribing it with a special sentiment directed toward the now-deceased referee.
"I'd like to help you, but I can't comment about anything," Bianchi said.
Too bad. We could use a good laugh right about now.
Except there's more. Like the rash of bizarre injuries that have soured the past three postseasons and the drug scandal in 1987, the same year the crash of Northwest Airlines Flight 255 killed 154 people on board, including Suns center Nick Vanos.
It's the gut-wrenching jump shot from John Paxson in 1993, the unfulfilled promise of Charles Barkley and the untimely lockout of 1998-99, one that ruined the Suns' planned assault of a fertile free-agent market.
It was the unfortunate signing of Penny Hardaway, and the ensuing prediction of multiple championships by Jason Kidd, whose time here also ended quite badly.
In sum, it's enough missed shots and misfortune to make one think the Suns are the cursed outfit in town, not the Wile E. Coyotes or the hard-luck Cardinals. And it's why the latest controversy engulfing the NBA - the case involving disgraced referee Tim Donaghy - feels extremely personal here in the Valley.
"This is a tough situation," Suns coach Mike D'Antoni said. "And to be honest, I really can't talk to you about it."
Of course not. Right now, no one in the NBA will talk about anything remotely involving a whistle. This sordid tale of a rogue referee allegedly fixing games right under the league's nose has cut that deep, all the way to the bone.
"My reaction is, I can't believe it's happening to us," NBA Commissioner David Stern said at a Tuesday news conference in New York.
Stern called it the "worst situation" he's ever experienced, and no doubt, the desperate actions of Donaghy have humbled the NBA's fearless leader. Correctly labeled as the best commissioner in sports, Stern has grown surly over the years: berating the media, scolding the conspiracy theorists and generally acting as if we were all three steps lower on the evolutionary ladder.
This will burst that bubble. It could affect the league's tango with Las Vegas as a potential home for an NBA franchise. And it should serve as a stark reminder and a dangerous lesson for a nation that has become frighteningly blase about gambling.
If Donaghy turns out to be a lone wolf on the hook of some really bad people, a guy that messed with the over/under to pay off his own marker but never jobbed a team out of a really important game, Stern will get through this nearly unscathed. As Mavericks owner Mark Cuban suggested, the NBA might even benefit from the chance to overhaul its officiating system.
I propose an efficient system that gives coaches two challenges in each half, to be used only after stoppages in play or at the end of a game.
But Stern's image never will be the same among the skeptics, the ones that believe he fixes draft lotteries and failing franchises, that he favors superstars and television ratings. And no place will be more dangerous for Stern than here in Phoenix, the pound-for-pound champion of conspiracy theorists, a region that already carried great mistrust of the commissioner and his merry band of zebras.
Yeah, we got nightmares, alright. Someone should get Alice Cooper to write a song about it, if anyone can get him off the golf course. In the end, maybe we should all take a cue from Bianchi.
Maybe we should stage our own parade and be done with it.