Among the things the NCAA does better than the NBA in postseason play is avoiding regional matchups for as long as possible.
This year’s NCAA Tournament produced the ultimate conclusion — four No. 1 seeds making the Final Four.
The remarkable aspect of the occurrence was that the semifinalists — Florida, Houston, Duke and Auburn — all could have been drawn into the South Regional. Hey, it would have saved on travel expenses.
Instead, forward-thinking minds prevailed and Florida was sent 2,700 miles west to San Francisco, Duke 500 miles north to Newark, and Houston 1,000 miles north to Indianapolis.
The result was a great finals matchup we don’t often get in the NBA.
That’s because big brother’s decision-makers are stuck in 20th-century airspace. For crying out loud, they think teams are still flying TWA, with stopovers in St. Louis.
Unlike the NFL, which clings to its rivalry with the old AFL, and Major League Baseball, which clutches tradition like Honus Wagner cards, the NBA’s two conferences are nothing more than geography tests and profit-maximizers. Sacramento is in California, we’ve learned, and it’s cheaper to fly there from Los Angeles than from Boston.
It doesn’t matter that basketball fans would prefer to see the Lakers play the Celtics more often, and the Lakers face the Kings … well, not at all.
OK, yes, NBA players complain about travel more than traveling. Keeping airtime to a minimum in the regular season, which hardly counts anyway, is undoubtedly good on the legs.
But it’s a terrible idea once the games really matter, of which we’re already being reminded this postseason.
The worst part about regional matchups is that geographic closeness leads to a lack of emotional closeness. What’s the saying: Familiarity breeds contempt?
Hoops contempt often rises to the level of a scuffle … and we’ve seen plenty of that already this postseason. In many cases, there’s been a history to the histrionics.
In short, when you’ve already arm-wrestled a guy four times in the regular season, you’re far less likely to admire him in April than if you haven’t seen the jerk since December.
This is avoidable. Don’t put the Bucks and Pacers — who know each other’s home addresses — in a 94-by-50 rectangular ring in the first round. Send the Pistons and Knicks to neutral corners for as long as possible. And for crying out loud: Who thought Draymond Green and Dillon Brooks on opening night of the playoffs was a good idea?
I say:
Keep the conferences as is to cut down on the regular-season wear and tear (and prevent TWA from considering a comeback).
Continue the same format for determining each’s eight playoff teams and their seedings.
Go East vs. West in all first-round pairings: East 1 vs. West 8 all the way down to East 8 vs. West 1.
To minimize the possibility of undeserved home-court advantage and limit travel inconveniences, go to a 2-3-2 format in all rounds.
Instead of some really ugly stuff in a been-there, done-that atmosphere, here’s what we’d be watching right now under the DG Design:
Cavaliers vs. Grizzlies. Uh oh. We start off with a snoozer. But it might take seven games to decide the winner of a great debate … Who’s a bigger legend: Elvis or Woody Hayes?
Celtics vs. Warriors. You can run, but you can’t hide from Jimmy Butler.
Knicks vs. Timberwolves. Something tells me we’d see a little more energy out of Karl-Anthony Towns than we did in Game 2 against the Pistons.
Pacers vs. Clippers. Two teams with the same battle cry: Who needs Paul George?
Bucks vs. Nuggets. I’m not making this stuff up. What a schedule. Giannis vs. Jokic in a playoff series. Sure beats Lillard against some dude named Nembhard.
Pistons vs. Lakers. Revenge, 21 years in a boiling pan.
Magic vs. Rockets. Shaq is picking the Magic. Kenny’s got the Rockets. How about you, Chuck?
Heat vs. Thunder. The ultimate spoilers against the overwhelming favorite. Can you say: Tyson vs. Douglas?
Now that’s entertaining basketball.
