Latrell Sprewell and the heckler: NBA hypocrisy (again)
More NBA hypocrisy.
I’ve already decried at length the NBA’s multifold hypocrisy. Well, here we go again. David Stern, who should take up a job shining Paul Tagliabue’s shoes instead of whining about NBA players, is now mad about Latrell Sprewell yelling a sexually explicit profanity to a female heckler in Los Angeles. Sprewell kindly suggested the fan *ahem* his *ahem*, possibly because Sprewell was stressed out from toiling to feed his family.
The real problem here is that the NBA profits nightly from charging fans an arm and a leg for courtside seats where they’re basically encouraged the heckle the hell out of players. The guys on the floor aren’t robots; they’re human beings, and yeah, they’re going to get pissed. (That’s not to say that they’re going to go apeshit like Ron Artest, but can’t you imagine yourself yelling something at a heckler? Uhh, I can. Many, many times, in rapid fashion, at loud volume.)
Then the NBA has the gall to assess players monetary fines. BUT, and here’s the kicker: only if the profanity is caught on TV. You know this kind of back and forth with the crowd happens all of the time, but David Stern, the midget among basketball giants, doesn’t care unless the NBA’s image is at stake.
Need any more proof that the NBA has no standards, rules, or consistent penalties for behavior besides the “we need to save our ass” imperative? You just need to know two words: David Harrison. Detroit police identified the Indy backup center on videotapes and saw him punching a fan in the vomitorium (yes, that’s a real word). But they didn’t suspend him. Why? Because no one knows who David Harrison is and no one knew he was involved in the fight, so it’d better for the NBA’s image to keep it hush-hush and not suspend him than to make the brawl look worse and suspend another Pacer.
In the NBA, it’s all about image. For the players, that means bling. For the league, that means damage control—at the expense of consistency or logic.