Hold on to your hats, folks. The biggest platform for NBA basketball talent in the world is upon us—and it also happens to be the hollowest and most irrelevant event in the modern NBA calendar.
The casual Pinoy basketball fan may recall the first (and possibly last) NBA preseason game held in the Philippines last 2013. The underwhelmingly attended event featured the Rockets and the Pacers in what proved to be a painful reminder that there is no uglier basketball to be watched than two jetlagged basketball teams featuring the world’s most valuable athletes playing a no-bearing game in which none of them want to try hard enough to risk injury.
It was like watching a motocross tournament featuring training wheels—and people paid good money to see that.
Enter the NBA All Star Game—which takes the risk-averseness to level 10, as the league heads towards its critical back-half that will separate playoff contenders from the expeditioners to Mt. Zion. Players who need rest will be forced to play a game that cannot and will not feature any type of defense lest risk being given the stink eye. Let us quietly light a candle for Rudy Gobert.
2019 is an important year in that the Golden State Warriors dynasty is beginning to show chinks in its armor. Never have the champions been this vulnerable, and never has the playing field been this competitive with Milwaukee, Philadelphia, Boston, Toronto, and Denver playing their best basketball in recent memory. Can we really expect players like James Harden, who is in his nth year of averaging 30 points per game and flaming out spectacularly in the playoffs, to take a no-bearing game seriously? Or Paul George, a few years removed from a gruesome leg injury, to enter the most crucial portion of his career as a dark horse MVP candidate via a fan exhibition? Perhaps people like Lebron and Anthony Davis need an All-Star Break—we all know nobody talks to those dudes in their respective locker rooms anymore.
I also applaud Adam Silver for his attempt to include the classics in this game; but let this also a friendly reminder that Dirk and Wade do not need free accolades. They’re both legends and have nothing to prove. Have you actually seen Dirk move this season? God knows he needs a rest quickly—instead he’s participating in two All-Star events. And Wade? 2019 is simply his audition for possibly the largest China basketball contract in history come winter. At best, this provides a decent conversation in the near future as to why Dirk and Wade’s Wikipedia page features an asterisk in their all-time All-Star appearances count. Yay, I guess?
And where are people who really need it? Where are the people who need a reputation boost to solidify them as the future of the NBA? Where’s Tobias Harris, member of real-life comedy duo Bobi and Tobi and perennially underrated forward? The guy is averaging 20.7 ppg and almost 7.8 rpg while shooting .430 from three. In contrast, Klay Thompson, despite being on fire this calendar year, is averaging under .400 shooting for the first time in his career. Where is Luka Doncic, jersey-tearing connoisseur, who is continually embarrassing 10-year NBA vets en route to a historic 20-5-5 rookie season? Where is Jayson Tatum, who actually wants to play for his team compared with his fellow Boston superstar? Where is the inhuman basketball gazelle Pascal Siakam, destroyer of worlds, and where is the human fireball Donovan Mitchell when you need them? Why is KAT even here? He deserves to be disqualified from this roster for simply being bitched into submission by a guy inches below his size.
To be fair to the coaches and media, they were mostly fair in their selections. Kemba—Jordan bless him—deserves to be in Charlotte and not just because it’s his home floor. DeAngelo Russell, despite being a throw-in replacement, will soon provide inspiration for Ingram, Lonzo, and Kuzma when they inevitably get traded to New Orleans. The Brothers Nikola (Jokic and Vucevic) are single-handedly returning the glory days of Yugoslavian basketball. These guys actually have something to prove. Sadly, the All-Star Game will ultimately be remembered for popular players who have nothing more to prove trying desperately to squeeze more relevance into their already ego-inflated existences—sort of like giving more TV airtime to even more reruns of Friends. Cool, but meh.
We have reached the pinnacle of basketball zeitgeist that places the superstar as the single most valuable commodity in the sport. And it’s inevitable that these basketball gods have begun to notice and embrace this notion themselves: Anthony Davis and agent Rich Paul—tampering extraordinaire—literally finger-snapped New Orleans into oblivion Thanos-style as Lebron watches in his couch while Magic Johnson and Rob Pelinka feed him grapes from a silver platter. Kyrie Irving is forcing his hand in Boston, going full 180 degrees on his commitment and threatening to make the Knicks a relevant franchise behind the NBA’s back while Kevin Durant crucifies the media for the same closeted feelings for the Big Apple. Has anyone bothered to ask Kevin Love and Jordan Clarkson how their year has gone?
Never in the history of the NBA has the superstar possessed this much power to create and unmake entire franchises on a whim. Make no mistake, the biggest moments of the All-Star Game won’t be the number of threes Klay Thompson manages to brick or how many half-assed dunks Lebron will attempt, but rather the impending media circus surrounding the upcoming players in free agency. Watch the media go ga-ga over questions like:
“Hey Lebron, how does it feel to play with a guy like Anthony Davis?”
“Hey Kyrie, does playing with Kevin Durant spark joy in your cold, ungrateful heart?”
“Hey Westbrook, how does it feel to truly not give a f*ck?”
These media ejaculations will provide another avenue for superstars to further inflate their value and begin talking about stuff that are dangerously askew from the basketball we enjoy. Shots to anyone who mentions Black Lives Matter, the Trump Travesty, and Colin Kaepernick. In all honesty, it would be fine to hear these people talk so long as they put on an engaging and competitive game. But we know what exactly is going to happen.
The NBA All Star Weekend, despite its flaws, will always exist because it is a moneymaker for the NBA and an economic boon to the hosting city. There will be problems in its formula, such as the Shooting Stars challenge, which seems in retrospect to be a half-assed attempt to lend the NBA’s credibility to its WNBA players and aging retirees. For every Gordon vs. Lavine in the dunk contest, we will always have a few more with Fred Jones, Shannon Brown, and Rudy Fernandez in it. We will continue to pretend that watching Justin Bieber and other non-pro celebrities are worth the TV airtime. We will always scratch our heads as to why the NBA chose to segregate US talent from World talent in the Rooks vs. Sophs game.
The upcoming 2019 NBA All-Star Game in Charlotte serves as an awkward response to how we allow the most powerful people in the NBA to gain popularity and power they will need to dismantle front offices and media outlets in the future. Thirty million dollar max contracts are no longer enough to satiate these basketball gods. They need media companies, they need creative agencies, they need lifetime endorsements, and this is the biggest advertising platform for them to make their pitch.
I remember my last All-Star game in Arlington, Texas in 2010. I watched as the Texan home crowd stood on their feet awaiting their hometown hero Dirk to make the winning shot against the East. I remember watching in horror as Melo held the ball, as if in slow-motion, with no indication whatsoever of ever passing the ball, and taking a contested shot that promptly clanked off the iron as the buzzer expired, resulting in groans and boos from the crowd. Yep, that’s my All Star Weekend, and that will be yours too: a game in which the wrong stars will shoot far more than they should.
Louie is a lifelong fan of 00's NBA power forwards Webber, Duncan, and above all Dirk, Sultan of Swish, King of the Andals. He is also a lifelong Heat hater, and is of the opinion that Wade and Dirk should have never swapped jerseys. Writing geek and pop culture fan, he continues to feverishly collect WWE, Ghostbusters, and Fallout Funko Pops in order to fill a steadily growing hole in his heart.