The Spectacle That is the NBA

Last week, I wrote about Kobe Bryant, and whether or not he should sit out occasionally in order to rest some of his lingering injuries.

Basically, I was torn on the issue because, on the one hand, I love watching Kobe Bryant play. His game just mesmerizes me. On the other hand, I know that in the long-term, Kobe is almost assuredly doing more harm than good by playing through all his ailments.

And even though I eventually came to the conclusion that I'd rather see Kobe sit if it meant prolonging his career, there was a huge asterisk sprinkled into the article:

"The Lakers make their one and only trip to Detroit on Sunday, and you better believe that I already have my tickets. "Disappointed" would be understating how I'd feel if Kobe didn't play in that game. "Devastated" would be overstating it. But I'd be a lot closer to the latter if he chose to sit the Piston game out."

The point is: attending the Laker games has become a tradition for me the past few seasons.

I try to squeeze in as many games as I can each season, but the Laker game is the only game I circle on my calendar the second the schedule comes out.

You can watch all the basketball on TV you want, but there is nothing like watching the best player or the best team on the planet play live. When Los Angeles comes to town, you get the best of each. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Sunday marked the fourth season in a row that I've gone to the Palace to see the Lakers play.

But, let's just say, things seemed different this time around.

I went with my friend Jim, quite possibly the biggest Lakers fan not located in Southern California. We had good seats, we were enjoying the game, but something wasn't quite right.

Then, during a timeout early in the game, Jim starts scanning the arena with his eyes and says to me, "Wow, this is more of a spectacle than a basketball game, huh?"

Perfect. Couldn't have said it better myself.

The entire game was a freaking spectacle. It felt like the basketball game itself was secondary to all the other nonsense that they crammed into this two and a half hour event.

From the second we entered the arena, it felt more like a trip to an amusement park than a basketball game. There was a drum line of about 10 people banging away in the atrium. There was a 6-to-8-piece jazz band playing music courtside. Worldwide Wes was on the court making his rounds to the fans in the courtside seats doing whatever it is that Worldwide Wes does.

And this was still a half hour before the game even started. We hadn't even scratched the surface of what was yet to come.

During the introduction of the starting lineups, the Pistons shoot flames about 20 feet high from each basket. The "BOOM" from the flames made at least five people in my section jump, and the guy next was so caught off-guard by it he lost about half of his approximately 14-gallon tub of popcorn. Even tens rows back, we could feel the heat.

At this point, we had already encountered live music (both in the concourse and on the court), explosions, 20-foot flames, a rendition of the Star Spangled Banner from an a cappella group that prominently featured a guy with a blonde mohawk beat boxing (which, no doubt, is exactly how Francis Scott Key originally intended the song to be performed), and we hadn't even had the opening tip yet.

Things only got worse form there.

In the first quarter alone, there was a marriage proposal on the jumbotron (she said yes!), Pistons players singing parody lyrics to Christmas songs on the big screen ("Grandma got run over by Rip Hamilton" was my favorite), and Hooper the mascot shooting mini-basketballs out of a cannon into the crowd (I would have caught one, but I didn't want to sacrifice my $8.50 beverage to make a play for it).

That was just the first quarter.

Other things that happened throughout the game: Mason, the Pistons' ultra-obnoxious public address announcer, said every player's name like James Bond (Stuckey; Rodney Stuckey); Hooper came out and performed with a mini-me version of himself called Mini-Hooper; Two guys ran around the court for most of the game holding signs that said "Noise!"; The Automotion Dancers carried pizzas into the stands and gave them away to fans; They also took oversized scratch-off lottery tickets into the stands and gave them away; There was a guy attempting as many free throws as he could in 24 seconds that got $25 per make; There was an awkward interview with season ticket holders; There was Kiss Cam; There was Dance Cam; There was Sing-a-long Cam; and of course, "MAKE SOME NOISE!!!" plastered on the jumbotron at the most curious times (of course, the arena erupted every time).

When did all of this happen? When I think back to all of the previous Laker games I had been to, and all of the other Pistons games I've seen in person over the past few seasons, there are certain plays that come to mind immediately.

I remember going to the game last season and coming away thinking, "I really like how much L.O. talks on defense."

This year, I came home with "Ben Wallace is coming to town" stuck in my head.

I realize that I am a part of a very small group of people that attend games: diehard NBA fans. I go because I want to see things like how well the Lakers communicate on defense, how unguardable Will Bynum is going to the basket, and how easily Kobe creates space for himself off the dribble. These are the kinds of things that don't translate to a television broadcast.

The average fan doesn't care about that kind of stuff, I get that. But at some point, don't we need to find a happy medium?

It's not just Detroit, but arenas all around the league have taken the actual basketball game and made it secondary to all the pomp and circumstance that comes during timeouts.

Maybe I am in the minority when I say that I just want to go to a game and watch my favorite sport without a three-ring-circus going on around it, but I know I'm not alone. Surely there are other huge NBA fans that go to games and get annoyed by this sort of stuff.

And maybe that is why attendance is down this year. Teams spend so much time and energy trying to put on a good show for its "fringe" fans that they've completely alienated people that come to the game because NBA basketball is the best sport to watch in person.

I'm sure there were plenty of people enthralled by what pair of strangers would appear next on the "Kiss Cam," but did they ever consider the group of people that might be just as interested in seeing the box score for the game during a timeout?

When Jim mentioned that Charlie Villanueva looked active on the glass, I had to look it up on my phone during a timeout to see how many rebounds he actually had.

Maybe if the team was better or the economy didn't suck so bad, the Pistons could market the game itself to bring people in like they did during the Chauncey Billups "Goin' to Work" era. But I don't see that happening any time soon. We've passed the point of no return.

Attending an NBA game is now, and my friend so eloquently put it, a spectacle.

I'm not saying don't bother to attend an NBA game this year. Quite the opposite, in fact. I thoroughly enjoyed watching the game itself. If you love basketball, you are doing yourself a disservice if you don't get out and attend at least one game in person this season and marvel at how talented and athletic these guys are.

Just be aware, you're not just attending a basketball game, you're attending a sensory overloading, headache-inducing spectacle.

But if you can navigate through all the hoopla, you might just catch a great basketball game. I know I did.

And because of that, I'll be braving the three-ring-circus again next season when Kobe and company come to town.

I'll just be sure to bring a girl next time so I can (hopefully!) make it on "Kiss Cam."