'Sheed responds to the new Rasheed Wallace Rule.
Rasheed Wallace Rule (ruh-sheed' wah'-luhs rool) noun. The informal name for the new NBA-mandated guidelines for technical fouls related to "overt" player reactions to referee calls.

According to ESPN's Henry Abbott, referees have been instructed to call a technical for:

Players making aggressive gestures, such as air punches, anywhere on the court.

Demonstrative disagreement, such as when a player incredulously raises his hands, or smacks his own arm to demonstrate how he was fouled.

Running directly at an official to complain about a call.

Excessive inquiries about a call, even in a civilized tone.

Refs can also consider dropping the T-Bomb on players who "use body language to question or demonstrate displeasure" and "take the long path to the official" (that is, walking across the court to make their case). Just guessing here, but I bet laughing at calls is also off limits.

Usage example: Did 'Sheed know The Rasheed Wallace Rule was going into effect this season? Maybe that's why he decided to hang up his jock.

Word History: At TrueHoop, Abbott noted that a similar set of rules were implemented prior to the 2006-07 season. (I called those guidelines "The Rasheed Wallace Rule" even back then.) After a very short enforcement period, those rules were forgotten almost as thoroughly as Pauly Shore's entire misbegotten career.

So the big question is: Will they stick around this time? I doubt it. But if they do, we may never see another montage quite like this:

Labels: Rasheed Wallace, Rasheed Wallace Rule, Word of the Day

Shooting stars? Guards shoot, big men dunk. That's the formula, right? Well, Saturday Night's Shooting Stars Competition gave us all a little lesson in New Math and - as Reggie Miller put it - set back shooting 100 years. Team Detroit (Chauncy Billups, WNBA Player X, Bill Laimbeer) were the defending champs, but they got ousted in the first round, and the finals pitted guard-heavy Team Chicago (Chris Duhon, WNBA Player Y, B.J. Armstrong) against center-laden Team San Antonio (Tim Duncan, WNBA Player Z, David Robinson). So naturally the team with two seven-footers won the thing, thanks to a top-of-the-key three from Duncan and a half court shot from The Admiral, who looks better in retirement than most guys look while playing. Seeing my man David made watching this travesty of shooting a little less painful.

They've got skills. Well, some of them: The Skills Challenge turned into a somewhat exciting battle of one-upsmanship between two emerging superstar point guards, with Deron Williams setting a new even record (25.5 seconds) to upset Chris Paul in the finals. However, Jason Kidd and Dwyane Wade just embarrassed themselves. Kidd's woeful lack of shooting touch was on display when he clunked all five three-point attempts and got tossed after round one with a time of 39.7 seconds. Wade, though...Wade had a full-on ego-ectomy. After electing not to even practice the course, the two-time defending Skills Competition champion lost his dribble out of bounds, botched four straight jumpers before just giving up and flinging the fifth at the hoop, and then missed two layups before ending the round with a score of 53.9 seconds...a time even Stephen Hawking could have beaten.

Steve Nash has no rhythm: Nash admitted before the Three-Point Shootout that the only reason he was taking part in the event was because the Collective Bargaining Agreement says he has to. (Said Nash: "They hold me to it every year.") So naturally he went out and performed like a man who didn't care and wanted it to all be over as quickly as possible, hitting only eight of 25 shots and scoring a lowly nine points. Maybe that'll teach David Stern not to force unwilling former MVPs to compete in meaningless contests they couldn't care less about.

The dunk contest requires dunks, right? Okay, let me open by saying that I have a serious case of the man love for Dwight Howard, and I freaked out when he pulled out the Superman cape for his first dunk. But...he didn't dunk that ball, he just sort of threw it in. Of course, everybody was so juiced about the cape - even David Stern was standing and yelling - that nobody seemed to notice that Howard failed to slam it home. I was also a little bummed that the Superman routine and Gerald Green's cupcake dunk got used up in the first round, because everything after that felt a little anticlimactic.

Gerald Green lost his invitation to planet Lovetron: I can't believe I forgot about this one. Thanks to flohtingpoint for the reminder: "While all of this was great stuff, nothing, and I mean NOTHING, came close to Gerald Green taking off his shoes, signing them for Darryl Dawkins, then having Chocolate Thunder bat them off the table when Gerald basically performed the same dunk twice in a row." You know, while I was watching that dunk, I thought: You know, doing a running dunk in socks would be pretty difficult. Unfortunately for Green, the dunk may indeed have been difficult, but it just looked stupid.

The Bibby Trade: So...Mike Bibby finally gets traded...to the Hawks?! Excuse me for totally not caring. I guess it improves the Hawks and all, but it's probably only the difference between not making the playoffs and first-round sweep. I was really hoping the Bibster would end up in Cleveland. And so was LeBron James.

The All-Star Game script remains unchanged: This is the way almost every All-Star Game seems to go: Ridiculously sloppy first quarter, followed by one team running up a big lead in the second quarter, followed by the other team staging a rally in the third quarter, followed by a fairly competitive fourth quarter (except for the occasional blowout). And this year's game followed that time-tested script to a T.

Three-point shooting: There were a lot of airballs last night despite the fact that no one was playing any defense until the fourth quarter.

Freethrow shooting: I understand that it's just the All-Star game and the level of focus and concentration maybe isn't as high as usual. But the FT shooting numbers were a Shaq-like 57 percent (8-for-14) for the West and a Chris Dudley-like 42 percent (6-for-14) for the East.

Yao Ming: Not only did the big man attempt a couple threes - the second of which was a step-back airball after the game had started to get serious - he was posterized at least two or three times by Howard. Maybe it's just me, but Yao always looks like he's moving in slow motion, especially when he's surrounded by All-Stars.

Kobe Bryant: He played only 2:52 in the first quarter and then sat out the remainder of the game to rest his pinkie finger. And yes, those are some of the lamest words ever strung together in the English language. My real disappointment, though, was the fact that he couldn't take part in the Three-Point Shootout, because then at least there would have been one score lower than Steve's.

Allen Iverson: The Answer scored only 7 points (3-for-7) and committed 6 turnovers. I wouldn't have even bothered to mention him, except that he apparently jumped everybody's case during halftime about taking the game seriously and playing to win. Come on, A.I., we're talking about All-Star Games!

Tim Duncan: Does this man ever smile? TD didn't crack one after the Shooting Stars Competition, and his face didn't so much as move during the ASG intros, despite the fact that his fellow starters were hamming it up for the camera. Okay, fine, Tim. We all get that you don't want to be there. But you don't have to act like your puppy just died, okay?

Dirk Nowitzki: It was a rough night for the reigning regular season MVP. He airballed a three, shot 5-for-14, got posterized by LeBron, and then got his junk stuffed by Dwyane Wade.

Chris Paul: I have nothing bad to say about this kid. He was huge (16 points, 14 assists) and probably would have won the MVP if his team could have pulled it out. Which would have rocked the house, since he was playing at home.

Rasheed Wallace: The one man who wanted to be at the All-Star Game less than Tim Duncan. He might have been dancing a little jig during the intros, but the expression on his face said, "I'm about to choke a bitch." 'Sheed then went out and hoisted out three or four left-handed threes, only, just like Inigo Montoya, he's not left-handed.

Chauncy Billups: I cringe every time somebody calls him Mr. Big Shot. Last night's line: 3-for-10 from the field, 0-for-6 from three. Can't we just call him Mr. Occasionally Hits A Tough Shot?

Jason Kidd: It was awkward to watch him in a New Jersey Nets uniform during the Skills Competition, and it was even more awkward to listen to trade updates throughout the All-Star game...including when David Aldridge tried to bug Dirk about it, and Dirk was afraid to even comment on it.

LeBron James: He had a great night put up some big-time numbers - 27 points, 8 rebounds, 9 assists - but he didn't deserve the MVP award. Ray Allen did. And you could kind of see it in LeBron's face when he was accepting the trophy from David Stern. But he cut through the Western Conference All-Stars like a knife through butter and crammed one down into Nowitzki's face, which immediately became the signature play of the game. And that's what the fans were thinking about while casting their MVP votes, I'm sure.

Labels: All-Star Game, Chauncy Billups, Dirk Nowitzki, Jason Kidd, Kobe Bryant, Lebron James, Rasheed Wallace Rule, Steve Nash, Tim Duncan

Admit it. This gave you a little wood, didn't it?
Kobe Bryant: Señor Black Mamba scored 39 points (a team high) and grabbed 10 boards (another team high). Brilliant game, right? Sure, if you overlook his severe case of fumbleitis. For much of the game, Kobe handled the rock like somebody had replaced his hands with two honeybaked hams. He coughed up the ball a career-high 11 times -- 7 of which came in the first half -- on his way to his first career triple bumble. He also unleashed some of his trademark "subtle" criticism of his teammates: ""What are you going to do when guys are open? If I catch the ball, what am I going to do, go one on three? We made the right play, we just didn't complete it." I ran this one through the Kobe-to-English translator in my Batcomputer, and apparently that comment means, "Hey, not my fault. Go talk to Lamar. He airballed the final shot." But this also begs the question: When has Kobe ever shied away from going one-on-three?

The Kobe-aires: Kwame Brown, Lamar Odom, and Sasha Vujacic all shot 1-for-5. Vlad the Rad hit 2-for-6, and Jordan Farmar was 2-for-5. Don't bother pulling out your calculator, I'll just go ahead and tell you that adds up to 7-for-26 shooting (26 percent) from the Lakers not-so-supportive cast.

Rasheed Wallace's shooting eye: He shot 3-for-13 even though the Lakers don't really have anybody who can guard him. Yo, 'Sheed, you need to stop practicing those trick shots and focus on the fundamentals: Position your feet side-by-side about shoulder width apart, focus on the rim, keep your knees bent and your elbows in, and always follow through. Now go out there and practice, big guy!

Eddie Jones: He is old, and he is lame. Last night's line: 2 points (1-for-5), 2 rebounds, and 2 fouls in 23 minutes. Seriously, shouldn't he be playing for the Spurs?

DeSegana Diop: He played 1 minute and 55 seconds, contributing naught but a single turnover. To put this into perspective, Juwan Howard got almost twice as much PT, and I bet you didn't even know he was still in the league! (Also, at least Howard grabbed a rebound.)

Dirk Nowitzki: He was the star for Dallas last night, going for 31, 11, and 6. But Rajon Rondo -- who's approximately 50 percent Dirk's size -- tore a rebound out of Nowitzki's hands and then went under him for a reverse layup with 42 seconds that put the Celtics ahead for good. Said Rondo: "He didn't block me out, so I went up under and got the ball." When you're seven feet of gangly manbeef, how do you not block out a pint-sized point guard like Rondo? It's also worth noting that the last two Maverick possessions were "Jason Terry missed jump shot" and "Jason Terry turnover." Der Herr may be the league's reigning MVP, but the ball never seems to be in his hands at the end of close games.

Brian Scalabrine: He went scoreless in 16 minutes of graceless action. In the absence of Kevin Garnett, Secaucus Red has started three games and has three total points. Hey, one point per start! That's...not...that bad...right?

Cleveland Cavaliers minus Lebron James: Damn, those guys are helpless without Lebron. I'm sure everybody figured Cleveland could still beat a miserable, 10-win team without their leader, who was nursing a sprained ankle. Well, "everybody" needs to take a second look at the Cavs' roster. First off, Sasha Pavlovic and Anderson Varejao are out. Zydrunas Ilgauskas, who supposedly got snubbed off the All-Star team, shot 3-for-13. (Although the rest of Z's game was in order: 11-for-11 from the line, 9 boards, 5 assists, 3 blocks.) Drew Gooden continued to suck, shooting 3-for-8 and grabbing only 3 rebounds (4 fewer than Dwayne Jones). I could go on, but hey, just trust me on this: Cleveland sans Lebron is a very bad team.

Donyell Marshall: Marshall amused his teammates and horrified fans in attendance late in the first quarter when he took off both his warm-up shirt and jersey while subbing into the game. Good times. Now watch Lebron go absolutely bonkers over it. I mean, sweet breakdancing Jesus, he was laughing so hard you'd think that Marshall had just gotten a pie in the face and then slipped comically on a banana peel.


Seattle Supersonics: Sure, they beat the "Cavaliers," but without Lebron (and the other missing starters), they might as well have been playing the Bakersfield Jam. The Sonics wasted 56 percent shooting and a 20-point halftime bulge and barely held on to win this ugly dogfight. Said Seattle coach P.J. Carlesimo: "The next time we have a 20-point lead, we'll close out better." That's a safe enough promise, since I don't see this team building that kind of lead again any time soon. And by "soon" I mean "this season."

San Antonio versus Phoenix: Okay, David Stern needs to pass some kind of legislation prohibiting these teams from playing each other ever again. The Spurs always manage to drag the Suns down to their level, transforming what should be a titanic clash of two great teams into something so ugly, so foul, that I honest-to-god almost chose to watch The Santa Claus 3 on cable instead. Both teams shot 38 percent and combined to commit 32 turnovers. The final score -- 84-81 -- might remind you of the old Knicks/Heat games from the late 90s, and the game would have too, assuming you had a strong enough stomach to sit through that crapfest. The most entertaining part of this game was when Craig Sager interviewed Gregg Popovich, and Pop stole Sagar's hanky and wiped his oily nose on it. And, even though it cracked my shit up, a Gregg Popovich interview should never be the highlight of a game between these two teams.

Francisco Elson: This guy has all but disappeared from Gregg Popovich's rotation, and last night's three trillion sort of explains why.

Matt Bonner: The line: 2 minutes, 3 fouls, zero everything else.

Manu Ginobili: There are certain rules of life that men are expected to uphold. One of those is that, unless you are being threatened with imminent and inescapable bodily harm, you do not hit, nudge, poke, slap, or otherwise abuse another man's nuts. You. Just. Don't. Do. It. Unless you're Manu Ginobili. (Thanks to Basketbawful reader sonofjorel for the link to the video, and props to Reggie Miller for coining the term "Man Region," a future Word of the Day.)


Leandro Barbosa: This dude should have been the X-Factor against the Spurs, because, without Tony Parker, nobody on San Antonio's roster has a prayer of staying with him. Yet he scored only 5 points on 2-for-10 shooting. And let me break this down for you: He was 0-for-5 on jumpers, and only 2-for-5 on layups. That's right. Three missed layups.

Amare Stoudemire: He couldn't keep Tim Duncan off the glass (TD had 17 rebounds). But even worse, he missed four freethrows in the fourth quarter, the last of which would have tied the game with 15.6 seconds left. Instead, the Suns were forced to foul and that was pretty much Game Over. Look, Amare, everybody knows you want to be The Man in Phoenix. Well, part of that is hitting your foul shots. I mean, vicious dunks are nice, high-percentage shots, and they'll get you on SportsCenter, but blocking out and hitting clutch freethrows wins games.

If you love giant robots...go check out my NBA Closer column at Deadspin. Actually, check it out even if you don't like giant robots.

Hey, nice sweater, LT. For me to poop on!

Labels: Amare Stoudemire, Cleveland Cavaliers, Dirk Nowitzki, Donyell Marshall, Kobe Bryant, LaDanian Tomlinson, Los Angeles Lakers, Phoenix Suns, Rasheed Wallace Rule, San Antonio Spurs, Seattle Supersonics

Prior to the current season, NBA commissioner David Stern instituted the so-called "Rasheed Wallace Rule," a zero-tolerance policy that (kinda sorta) prohibits post-whistle bitching and moaning. Unfortunately, pickup leagues don't have commissioners or referees, and therefore we can't get anti-complaint legislation passed, let alone enforced. But man oh man, I wish we could.

Here's the thing: Pickup basketball works on the honor system. You're expected to call your own fouls in a just and reasonable manner, and the other players are then obliged to respect the call. But if that ever actually happens in your league, please, by all means, let me know...because I'll personally call the Guiness Book of World Records people for you.

See, most pickup players have been balling for 10, 15, even 20 or more years. During that time, they have evolved into sophisticated basketball machines; a vast supply of experience combined with their athletic prowess and laser-like reflexes make them incapable of committing a foul. Or so they think.

So when you do call a foul against someone, that person naturally gets bent the hell out of shape. It's like you just accused your mom of never hugging you as a child, or told your girlfriend she looks fat in, well, everything she owns. Eyes bulge. Arms flail. Curses are shouted toward the unforgiving heavens. What follows is what I like to call The Three Four Stages of Foul Dispute.

Stage 1 - Denial: As soon as the foul has been called -- and sometimes before the words can even leave your mouth -- the opposing player immediately contradicts you. They don't even take the time to analyze what you said, because they know in their heart that they never, ever, under any number of crazy circumstances, could have committed a foul. In the immortal words of Dr. Cox: "Never; not in a million years; absolutely not; no way, Jose; no chance, Lance; nyet; negatory; mm-mm; nuh-uh; and of course my own personal favorite of all time, man falling off of a cliff -- NOOOOOOOoooooooo!"

Example 1a: Last night, Partial Hand Guy set a pick on me. I tried to run around the pick, but as I was doing so he stuck out his exceptionally large ass. Once his ass caught me, he began scooting backward with as much force as he could, in effect bulldozing me backwards with his butt cheeks. The man I was defending, now wide open, shot and hit a three-pointer. On my way back upcourt, I said, "You can't set moving picks. Watch it." Mind you, I didn't call a foul. I was just giving a slightly less-than-friendly reminder that moving picks are, in fact, illegal. Instead of admitting his transgression and (reluctantly) agreeing not to set any more moving picks, or even just quietly accepting what I had to say, he naturally freaked out. "What?! No I didn't! Come on now, that was a clean pick!"

Example 2a: Later, while I was bringing the ball upcourt, Spaz Guy -- who loves to apply full-court pressure -- charged at me with wildly swinging arms. His hand caught me hard across the wrist and the ball popped out of my hands. Never, at any point, did he get so much as a fingernail on the ball. "Got it," I said. His reply? "Wha...what?! Are you kidding me?! Is everything a foul?!"

Stage 2 - Obfuscation: For some reason, many people feel that getting called out or accused of committing a foul is the worst possible embarrassment, worse even than those guys who get caught on Dateline's To Catch A Predator series. So after first making a strong-worded denial, the next step is to embarrass their opponent right back. This means making a sort of reverse accusation, which more often than not has nothing whatsoever to do with the call that was made. The person who committed the foul tries to take a moral stand, accusing the person who called the foul of some previous wrongdoing, either real or imagined, that was worse, wasn't called (out of "mercy"), or both.

Example 1b: Once Partial Hand Guy realized that I wasn't going to accept his denial of the illegal pick, he made a seamless transition from defense to offense. "Oh yeah? Well you travel every single time you touch the ball...I could call that every time!"

Example 2b: As he was stomping his way toward the other end of the court, Spaz Guy felt the need to point out that "You double-dribbled just a couple minutes ago, and I didn't call that! Jesus!"

Stage 3 - Justification: By denying the foul and then pointing a finger at you, the defender has given himself the time necessary to catch his breath and think up a really good explanation of why, exactly, the foul was not really a foul. The hope, of course, is that everyone is so fatigued and confused, nobody will be able to remember exactly what happened, assuming they even saw it in the first place. And at that point, it's your word against his...a veritable no-win situation.

Example 1c: After a heated debate on whether or not I actually manage to travel on every possession, Partial Hand Guy finally got around to pointing out that he wasn't moving on the pick. He was rolling. "I can roll to the basket after I set a pick. That's perfectly legal." Forget the fact that he had his head down, his hands at his sides, and he wasn't even moving toward the basket. It was really a pick-and-roll, and not a pick-and-push-me-the-hell-out-of-the-way. Suuuuuure.

Example 2c: Once Spaz Guy had finished recounting the exact nature of my supposed double-dribble, complete with pantomime and a running commentary, he returned to what presumably was the original point. "And anyway, I didn't hit your arm. I got all ball, and after I stole it your arm came up and hit me in the face." It was, at best, a rewriting of history and, at worst, a ridiculous lie. But it sounded plausible enough to him. He wasn't getting the ball back -- no one ever does, just like in the NBA -- but he now felt absolved of any wrongdoing. And in the end, that's really what it's all about.

Edit: Many thanks to reader JamieK for pointing out the forgotten fourth stage of dispute...

Stage 4 - Threats of Retribution: This is where the person who committed the foul promises to start making every conceivable call against you and your team. "Oh, I see how it is. I'm gonna start calling everything too." Sometimes this is merely a bluff, a classic case of someone blowing off steam. But, more often than not, there will be at least one or two ticky-tack makeup calls immediately thereafter. And usually they're of the exceedingly petty variety. Hand checking? Yup. Three second violation? Of course. Palming? You know it. Fortunately, these are the kinds of calls that can turn a person's own team against him, and once his teammates start groaning and snarking at him, things usually return to normal.

Until the next foul.

Labels: fouls, pickup basketball, Rasheed Wallace Rule