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Most every game, the refs confidently
call charging on one or more high-flying or long-striding drivers. Invariably,
the TV director will show a replay and the color commentator will say, “That was
a good call, because the defender’s feet were outside the restricted
zone.”
That “restricted zone,” the
solid-line semicircle that extends out a few feet from the basket, was intended
to promote freedom of movement and driving to the basket, two facets of
basketball that, once upon a time, made the NBA a joy to watch. Alas, it has had
the opposite effect: It has never been easier for a help defender to draw a
charge or harder for a driver to drive. Slow, glued-to-the-ground Jason
Collins is nearly as effective defensively as mobile,
electrifying shot-swatters Theo Ratliff and Keon
Clark. Players with the ability to penetrate do so less
frequently and more timidly. The timidity is a double whammy, as it gives an
extra split-second to the bowling-pin impersonator to plant himself in the
driver’s path.
Thanks to the restricted
zone, the misguided block/charge interpretation, and the legalization of zone
defenses, there is less freedom of moment in the NBA today than at any time in
the last fifty years. All contribute to slowing down half-court offense to a
snail’s pace.
Back in 1961-62, teams
averaged 119 points and 106 field goal attempts per game. Today, they average 94
points and 80 or so FGAs. The Sixties era track meet has degenerated into a
yawn-inducing bump-and-grind. Today’s players are faster than ever, but the
great NBA game has been hijacked by control-freak coaches and a rules committee
that rewards non-athleticism.
In theory, the restricted
zone provides a “safe landing area” for drivers, an area where help defenders
can swat the shot or strip the ball, but cannot occupy space for the purpose of
attempting to draw a charge. The problem is that the refs have become obsessed
with that line. They have one of the world’s toughest jobs, and
they’ve simplified one aspect by basing their airborne-driver block/charge
decisions on two factors only: Are the defender’s feet outside the restricted
zone at the moment of collision, and are they set? If the answers are yes, it’s
a charge.
A ref who is focused on the
defender’s feet will be clueless on the most important consideration: the
precise position of the defender when the driver reaches the point of no return
— that is, the point at which the driver cannot change his directional path
even if he wants to. Not only is that point well before the moment of collision,
it is well before the driver ascends.
The Point of No
Return
A driver who intends to jump
off of one leg reaches the point of no return PRIOR to his second-to-last step.
That foot sets the course. If you need to accelerate or change direction, you do
that by altering how and where you place that second-to-last foot. First, your
brain tells you “Explode” or “Veer right.” Then you relay the information to
your feet, and you plant that second-to-last step accordingly. I defy anyone
filling a lane on the break or driving in a halfcourt setting to change
directions AFTER planting the second-to-last foot. Yet this is what the current
block/charge interpretation requires the driver to do.
Put yourself in the driver’s
feet: You think you can beat your man off the dribble, and you spot an opening
that can get you into the lane for a five-foot runner or maybe all the way to
the rim. You seize the moment and blow by your defender. As you do, you spot a
helping defender moving into your general path. Time for some
quick calculations. You can pull up, either for a shot or pass. You can put
the peddle to the metal and try to reach your destination before he establishes
position. Or you can guess where the defender is likely to plant his feet and
take evasive action by jumping to his left or right (hoping that the ref
realizes that a charge requires the defender to be stationary and take the hit
squarely; grazing the outside shoulder or colliding with a widely set leg does
not a charge make).
Unless you are walking, you
can’t wait till you’ve planted your take-off foot to alter your direction. If
you are walking, you’ve got no chance of beating anyone off the dribble.
Focusing on the
restricted-zone line and the defender’s feet enables today’s refs to be
consistent, but the result is countless unfair calls, foul trouble for exciting
players and too many decisions by the likes of Steve
Nash, Paul Pierce and Baron
Davis not to penetrate when they spot a momentary crease in the
defense. The fans lose and the players worth watching lose. Rest assured,
playoff games will turn when key players hit the pines with foul trouble caused
by bad charge calls.
Summer Assignment for
Refs
The first off-season order
of business for the NBA is to convene all the refs in a gym. They need to
experience what it’s like to drive to the basket or across the lane and attempt
to avoid a helping defender. They need to execute as drivers and defenders in a
variety of situations so they can establish in their own minds the point of no
return. They also need to see how easy it is for a defender whose feet are set
to slide his upper body a foot in either direction once he sees the driver’s
flight path. A slight upper-body slide is all it takes to convert a glancing
blow to a direct hit.
The Answer
My solution starts with
extending the restricted zone out another 18 inches, while rendering the actual
line invisible. In other words, the line would be in the back of the refs’ mind,
as it used to be, but not painted on the court. This will free up the refs’ eyes
to look outward at the unfolding play rather than downward at the defender’s
feet. The ref — either a trailer or an under-the-basket ref — should take “the
long view,” keeping both the driver and the help defender in the line of sight,
even though the two players initially may be far apart. Refs also need to
develop a feel for the “right-left” or “left-right” rhythm of a driver’s steps.
A righthander generally leaps off his left foot, so refs should be ready to look
at the relationship between the driver and the help defender as the driver gets
ready to plant his right foot — the step before his take-off step. (The amazing
Nash will be a challenge for refs, as he will elevate off either leg whether
finishing with his right hand or left.)
If the defender is not set
and directly in the path prior to the planting of the second-to-last-step, it’s
a block. The benefit of any doubt should go to the athlete doing exciting
things, not the flat-foot floogie clogging the lane.
Such an interpretation is
fair to drivers and good for the game. Granted, it will make it considerably
more difficult for a help defender to draw a charge. So what? Who cares? Help
defenders with athleticism can help in other ways. They can strip the ball,
block the shot or get a hand in the shooter’s face. As for help defenders
without athleticism, they can find another line of work. Trust me, no one
will miss them.
Dennis Hans’s essays on
basketball — including the styles, rhythms and fundamentals of free-throw
shooting — have appeared online at the Sporting News and Slate. His writings on
other topics have appeared in the New York Times, Washington Post and Miami
Herald, among other outlets. |