ESPN NBA

Former New York Times and current Grantland basketball writer Jonathan Abrams takes the time to do things right, digging in deep to tell us amazing stories, like one of the first and still the best Royce White profile, the definitive guide to Stephen Jackson's thinking and of course the oral history of the Malice at the Palace. Each of this stories is nuanced and textured and fun to read. Like a little book.

And now he's going to write a big book. The deal is freshly signed. Boys Among Men: How a Generation of High Schoolers Chasing Their NBA Dreams Changed the Game and Themselves tells the story of players who jumped directly from high school to the NBA, from Moses Malone in 1974 to Amir Johnson in 2005.

When's it coming out, you ask? You can't rush these things. I asked Abrams that question, and he mumbled something about 2015. But it's happening.

So odd to me, that people wonder why Jason Collins' coming out made bigger waves than Brittney Griner's.

Well, gather 'round, because I'm about to explain.

1. How many WNBA players are out? As of 2005, Michele Van Gorp, Sue Wicks and Sheryl Swoopes. That was eight years ago.
2. That the WNBA doesn't make news like the NBA is elemental. It is a lower profile sport.
3. We don't know precisely the obstacles Collins faced in coming out. But we do know that in NBA, MLB, NFL and NHL history no other active player has overcome them before, despite thousands of athletes over more than a century.
4. Jason Collins is a man.

Whoa. What? Huh? That last point?

If I thought it would work, here's where I'd drop 5,000 words of queer theory on you. Or you can take my word for it that gay men and women have long faced subtly different obstacles in gaining mainstream embrace. For men, a particular issue has been that society's powerbrokers -- disproportionately heterosexual men -- have long acted scared of gay men, and particularly of being sexually assaulted by them.

That quickens the pulse of the people who set the agenda, particularly in the male-dominated sphere of pro sports. For many sports fans that gave Collins' announcement a "wow" factor -- likely subconscious -- that Griner's cool announcement lacked.

This is why we hear so much about group showering whenever gay athletes are discussed. The shower is where a lot of heterosexual men hate to be reminded gay men exist, even if they can handle that reality perfectly well in other settings.

Compared to women or gay men, heterosexual men lack practice coping with sexualization, and are easily alarmed.

So chalk that up as the first fear: That the open existence of homosexual men makes some heterosexual men feel unsafe. This prompts fear. Fear and hatred have always walked hand in hand. Hatred, of course, is the key obstacle Collins will face.

Would you believe there's another fear in play that's even trickier to write about? The second is that admiring professional athletes' bodies -- no small part of what sports fans have long done daily -- just got weird for the ardently heterosexual male. Jason Collins is asking fans to tour their own psyches in a challenging new way.

And here's where I really think you ought to read what one of America's most decorated writers (be warned, it's PG-13 or beyond), Sherman Alexie, has to say about about how we see gay athletes, in The Stranger.

So who are the best-looking men in the USA? The answer, obviously, is professional athletes. I mean, Jesus, Google-Image Adrian Peterson. Study how cut, shredded, and jacked he is.

Cut. Shredded. Jacked. Those are violent straight-boy adjectives that mean "beautiful." But we straight boys aren't supposed to think of other men as beautiful. We're supposed to think of the most physically gifted men as warrior soldiers, as dangerous demigods.

And there's the rub: When we're talking about professional athletes, we are mostly talking about males passionately admiring the physical attributes and abilities of other males. It might not be homosexual, but it certainly is homoerotic.

So when Jason Collins, an NBA basketball player, announced this week that he was gay and became the first active athlete in the four major professional American sports leagues to come out of the closet, I was proud of him. And I was aroused, politically speaking.

He's the Jackie Robinson of homosexual basketball big men.

He's seven feet and 250 pounds of man-loving man.

And he's an aging center in the last days of his professional career who might not be signed by a team next season.

Homophobic basketball fans will disparage his skills, somehow equating his NBA benchwarmer status with his sexuality. But let's not forget that Collins is still one of the best 1,000 basketball players in the world. He has always been better than his modest statistics would indicate, and his teams have been dramatically more efficient with him on the court. He is better at hoops than 99.9 percent of you are at anything you do. He might not be a demigod, but he's certainly a semi-demigod. Moreover, his basketball colleagues universally praise him as a physically and mentally tough player. In his prime, he ably battled that behemoth known as Shaquille O'Neal. Most of all, Collins is widely regarded as one of the finest gentlemen to ever play the game. Generous, wise, and supportive, he's a natural leader. And he has a degree from Stanford University.

In other words, he's a highly attractive dude.

 

David Thorpe has his doubts the Thunder can even beat the Rockets, let alone win a title. And Russell Westbrook's injury is only part of the story.

On video, it looks like strategy.

Stephen Curry, the NBA's newest and slightest superstar, who has been killing the Nuggets on ankles so brittle he recently tweeted "no ankle left unturned lol," was minding his own business, jogging through the lane three-and-a-half minutes into Game 5, when the Nuggets' Kenneth Faried stepped backward, directly into Curry's tender foot.

It wasn't an isolated event.

"Three or four plays in the first four minutes," estimates Curry, who says "of course" the Nuggets were trying to rough him up.

I knew this was coming. Intentional fouls, I've been increasingly realizing, are the go-to method of controlling superstars. Curry, with a skinny build and weak ankles, is more vulnerable than anybody. As he emerged as a player who could decide a series, the clock was ticking. He would get roughed up. It made too much sense.

"Some dirty plays early," pointed out Curry's coach, Mark Jackson, who later said this of Faried: "Take a look ... the screen on Curry by the foul line is a shot at his ankle. Clearly. That can't be debated. ... I've got inside information that some people don't like that brand of basketball and they clearly didn't co-sign it. So they wanted me to know they had no parts in what was taking place."

Jackson -- whose team has committed all kinds of hard fouls in this series (ask Andre Iguodala about Andrew Bogut) and this season, including some that caused injury -- spoke passionately in defense of hard play, and even hard fouls. But he stressed it was important for both teams to go to the trouble to avoid injuring each other.

On TNT later, Charles Barkley explained: "I've been on teams where you say ... this dude's too comfortable. Every time you get a chance, hit him. You want him to be thinking about 'Where am I going to get hit at next time?' You can't go out there like you're at a shootaround."

Shaquille O'Neal heartily co-signed, saying Jackson went too far in calling such a thing "dirty," insisting instead it's just the nature of the game. (Every retired player will tell you it was way rougher when they played. That's what they do, even though there's little evidence the game was really more physical back then.)

Here's the thing, though: Forget the teams for a second. Forget rooting for Denver or Golden State. Forget the tail-chasing debate about what's "dirty."

Put yourselves in the position of the people who are charged with keeping players safe: The NBA. They're the ones who have fallen asleep on the job here.

If you're the NBA, or any fan of basketball, you want nothing more than for Curry -- the most exciting player in these playoffs -- to keep creating artistic moments that fire the imagination. You want to see skilled players doing the skilled things that make this league unique, and distinct from MMA. You want this for every player.

In short, you don't want to see Curry play his best in Game 6 only if he proves his ankles can withstand intentional attack. (We already know they probably can't ... he has missed dozens of games from plays with no contact at all.) You want him at his best in Game 6 because the other team is not "hitting him every chance they get."

And we could have that, right now.

Teams are roughing up opposing stars because it works. It works because many intentional fouls are missed entirely by the referees, and those that are noticed, even dangerous ones, are punished too lightly to make it stop.

Barkley and O'Neal played in an NBA where there was no strategic reason not to rough a guy like Curry up. You "hit" him 10 times a night as a team, you get called for four or five. That's the cost. The benefit is he is intimidated, fearing for safety, and diminished as a scoring threat all night long, for every play of his night. The benefit is bigger than the cost! Someone with SportVu data can probably do the math: Six or seven extra free throws is a small price to pay for a dozen extra hits -- many uncalled -- that result in a cowed, hobbled or injured opposing star. That's a fantastic trade for the more aggressive team.

That's "playoff basketball."

No coach will go on record against it. They want the ability to hit players early and often, both because it's a valuable tactic for a team and because it's a particularly valuable tactic for coaches. Intentional fouls take power from superstars -- who'd dominate even more without fear of injury -- and give it to he who can order up the hits.

The problem, though, is that it's 2013, and the league has more than enough tools, right now, to clean all of this up. Getting away scot-free with a lot of cheap shots is a key reason this is a winning strategy. But why, in a world where every court is encircled by cameras, where everyone at home benefits from truly instant HD replay from all kinds of angles, would the people making the key decisions of the game not have real-time access to that crucial information? Why would we shrug and say "we can't catch 'em all" when we totally can?

You have no idea how many times a night, thanks to the magic of watching ESPN or TNT in HD with a remote control in my hand, I know precisely whether there was a foul or not, even as the referees have no idea. It's crazy. And it makes the NBA look crazy. Why do the people with the beer and the popcorn on the couch have better real-time information than the people making game-deciding calls?

NBA referees are the best in the world, but everybody thinks they're terrible because of this. And meanwhile, the game is not being called nearly as accurately, quickly or comprehensively as it could be.

My HoopIdea: Get away from stopping the game for video review. And graduate to a courtside referee or two, with as many TV screens as would be helpful, showing every angle imaginable. This video referee crew would constantly review all the best angles of what is happening right now as it happens. They might be a few seconds behind real time if they need to rewind briefly, but not much. They'd essentially know everything video could know, without having to stop the game to huddle around a single monitor. And when they know something the referees on the court missed, they'd be able to tell them at the next dead ball, or even sooner.

The plays where the video makes the referees look foolish ... they're usually at dead balls anyway.

Before you tell me this is loco, realize the league already does this. They review the games after they're over, for instance a whole day later. And then they "correct" the referees' work when it was egregiously wrong, either by apologizing for a missed call, and then warning, fining or suspending somebody for a flop, a dirty play, fighting or anything else.

I'm baffled by the delay. Players are hitting each other as part of team-wide strategy -- endorsed by Barkley, O'Neal and oddly, even Mark Jackson -- because they help them win games.

As long as the real punishment only comes after the game, there are still wins to be had for teams who are beating people up. Whatever the NBA believes can be gleaned from video, glean it when it's still useful to decide the game, when it's still useful to keep up with the fans at home, and to make the strategy of Tackle Basketball stop working.

The league's executives, from David Stern to Stu Jackson, have been clear they do not want teams taking the floor planning to hurt each other. Time to do something about it.

It's late in a close game, your team has the ball, and they need to decide what to do.

Pick and roll? Isolation? Drive and kick? This shooter? That one?

These are tough decisions and precisely why coaches get the big bucks.

Too bad so many teams keep screwing these decisions up in these playoffs.

My radical proposal, developed over the last several years of obsessing over this stuff: Whatever your team does, it ought to be something with a good chance of succeeding. There are lots of right answers.

I'd bet big money time will make clearer that the wrong answer is to call timeout to set up an isolation play. No matter your opinion of advanced stats, these things are all true:

• Timeouts hurt the offense and help the defense.
• Isolations consistently rank as just about the least effective type of NBA play.
• It's essentially impossible to find evidence any player is predictably efficient against the double team.
• "Any random open player" has been shown to be a better option than a covered superstar, and it's not close.

And yet, look what has been happening in these playoffs.

THUNDER GAME 4 vs. ROCKETS

This has been the season that many teams have seen the light about moving the ball to the open man. For instance, instead of LeBron James and Dwyane Wade vs. the world, the Heat have surrounded their stars with deadly shooters. Predictably, it has made a massive difference.

The Spurs were counted out as old, but dusted almost everybody by continuing their long-term worship of uncontested shots.

See the trend there? Good teams that don't play Hero Ball sweep the first round.

Meanwhile, of the league's three top contending teams (Miami, San Antonio, Oklahoma City) this season, the Thunder were always the holdouts. They have long believed in isolation hoops. Perhaps this is no surprise ... their coach had a playing career that coincided almost perfectly with the heyday of isolation play. Smart research has long shown that the Thunder's offense is at its best when Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook shot a little bit less, but the team sure does not run plays with that in mind. Their strategic approach has always been built around the idea that they want those guys shooting the rock.

The Thunder roster, led by the stars, are so doggone good that makes for a top-five NBA' offense anyway. But when Westbrook went down to a knee injury, a scary new decision faced Oklahoma City. Without Westbrook, would they finally see the value in open shooters? Or would they double down in their commitment to superstars, only this time with just one left?

The problem with having only one superstar is that my mom could draw up the defensive scheme. (On Monday night's broadcast Chris Webber saw what the Rockets were doing late to cover Durant and declared it the first time in his entire life he had seen a full-court double-team.) It's easy to make sure Durant faces a ton of defense every possession, and so what if he occasionally beats 'em all?

The result was the Rockets -- perhaps the worst defensive team in the playoffs -- held one of the league's best offensive teams (60-game winners) to a grand total of three buckets over the game's five final minutes. In that time Derek Fisher, Kevin Martin, Serge Ibaka and Thabo Sefolosha spent all kinds of time -- on video, it's glaring -- standing all alone in position to catch and shoot. Research shows open role players in those kinds of situations are vastly more effective than covered stars. According to NBA.com's stats tool, however, those four together combined for a grand total of one attempt, while Durant and fill-in Westbrook -- Reggie Jackson, took all the shots.

Simply put, with more respect for open shooters, and less fascination with who's shooting, the Thunder absolutely could have scored more. And they only had to score a tiny bit more to, you know, end the series.

It came to a hilarious head with 12 seconds left. The Thunder had been force-feeding Durant so religiously the defense scarcely looked at anybody else. And yet, in the face of evidence timeouts only help the defense, and despite a Rockets team scrambling to get in place, the Thunder called a timeout.

They hadn't run an actual play in a half-hour, and weren't about to. What could there have been to talk about? It was the stuff of Twitter jokes:

@truehoop "just to confirm guys, we're going with Kevin. I know you know, just wanted to emphasise. So, yeah... ' - Scott Brooks.

— Anton Trees (@as_trees) April 30, 2013

 

After letting the defense get set, the Thunder flirted with turning the ball over, and ended up losing valuable seconds trying to establish Durant. He gave up his dribble in the face of tough defense, almost turned it over trying to get it to Jackson, who scrambled to create a Hail Mary out of a broken play that failed at the buzzer.

Would it kill you to run a pick-and-roll?

ROCKETS GAME 4 vs. THUNDER
All the things I just wrote about Durant and the Thunder go double for the Rockets and James Harden. Kevin McHale uses Harden like you used your favorite new song when you were 12 -- again and again and again until it's completely worn out.

As much as the Thunder offense was good all season but bad in crunch time, the Rockets are the kings of that particular dynamic, and have been for the same reason all season. They're also famously the most analytical team in the league, meaning almost certainly somebody is telling McHale this is a bad idea, but he's doing it anyway.

The Rockets' late-game offense consisted largely of Harden shooting tough shots against the Thunder's hand-picked defenders, Sefolosha and in one case after a switch, Ibaka, with teammates standing still and watching with the shot clock expiring. These are awful conditions for an offense -- how strange for the offense to have set up the conditions that precise way.

Non-Harden players made two of five shots in the final five minutes. None of Harden's three shots were all that close. One was an airball.

This is an old trend from the Lakers, which has been generally true throughout Kobe Bryant's career: The team builds a lead playing some kind of team-focused ball, and then the offense grinds to a halt late in games when the offense focuses increasingly on the team's "best option." In reality the team's best option is to keep using the screens, cuts, passes and movement of people and the ball that got them the lead in the first place.

KNICKS vs. CELTICS GAME 4
The Celtics won this game. Here's an exchange that shows why: With 1:12 left in regulation and the Knicks up two, Paul Pierce took a handoff from Kevin Garnett on the left side. Everyone knows Pierce is the Celtics' closer, and everyone knows his go-to closing move is a nifty little fall away jumper around the free throw line. By the time Pierce got to his spot and elevated, Tyson Chandler, Carmelo Anthony and Raymond Felton formed a nice crowd around him.

But ... surprise! Pierce didn't shoot. He passed. Back to Garnett. Who had roughly 400 square miles of open space all around him, as the defense had been wholly duped into crunch time hero worship. Garnett stepped into a nice tidy open jump shot. Not a hero shot at all -- and therefore a wonderful one, with very high expected points per possession. The best shots are open shots.

Meanwhile the Knicks, like the Thunder, were missing a key scorer -- in this instance J.R. Smith was out. And like the Thunder they used that as an excuse to go Hero Ball all the way.

So on the next possession New York got the ball to Carmelo Anthony, who was very well covered by long, lean Jeff Green, and missed a 29-footer as the clock expired.

It was as the Knicks believed there was literally magic in Anthony's fingertips. For much of the season the Knicks were a study in ball movement, with shooters hoisting open 3s at record rates. They tossed that playbook for this game, however, instead having Anthony launch 35 shots almost all of which were heavily covered. He missed 25.

The Knicks averaged more than 19 assists per game this year but finished this 53-minute overtime game with 10. It's easy to see why -- because in situations when a covered Anthony would have once passed to the open man -- and there were plenty of them -- out of a misguided conviction it was best for his team, in this game he fired away.

In the final five minutes of regulation plus overtime a collection of the Knicks most efficient shooters -- Steve Novak, Jason Kidd and Tyson Chandler -- didn't take a single shot, while Anthony shot a mighty ten and made but two. Non-Anthony Knicks, meanwhile, were three-of-six over those crucial ten minutes.

The role of a coach is to guide a team to run the plays that give the team the best possible chance of success. If you were an NBA owner, how long would you keep believing in a coach whose teams used the exact opposite approach when it mattered most, running plays that would predictably get bad results?

ESPN.com's Kevin Arnovitz has been out of the closet, and going to work at NBA stadiums (and yes, in locker rooms) for years.

In his experience, how can Jason Collins, now that he's out, really expect to be treated?

Phoenix guard Kendall Marshall might have the NBA's best Twitter game, as we discussed with him on TrueHoop TV last week. In the second of two episodes we get the back story behind @KButter5 tweets like "So apparently yelling 'GET A BUCKET' is frowned upon at an 8th grade girls lacrosse game. My bad."

In response to several Twitter requests, here's Outside the Lines on Jason Collins, featuring TrueHoop's Kevin Arnovitz:

The Washington Wizards' Jason Collins has just become the first athlete in a major North American team sport to come out of the closet while still playing in the league (assuming he catches on with a team for next year -- he's a free agent).

Read his inspiring story.

David Stern's office released the following statement on Monday: "As Adam Silver and I said to Jason, we have known the Collins family since Jason and Jarron joined the NBA in 2001 and they have been exemplary members of the NBA family. Jason has been a widely respected player and teammate throughout his career and we are proud he has assumed the leadership mantle on this very important issue."

In 2011, the commissioner discussed the issue at more length. Awkwardly, he both acknowledged the challenges to gay NBA players and made clear he, Stern, would not be the person to instigate change -- specifically saying he did not want to become a "social crusader" on that issue.

I pointed out that roughly 3,600 men had played in the NBA, but at that time precisely none had come out of the closet. And there had been more than a few hints at anti-gay rhetoric in the NBA. Just a few examples:

• In his 2007 book, retired player John Amaechi both came out of the closet and shared word of bigoted behavior from his former owner and coach.
• In 2009, TV cameras caught Kenyon Martin calling Mavericks owner Mark Cuban a gay slur (NSFW).
• In 2011, Kobe Bryant directed the same word Martin used at a referee.

My question for Stern, in 2011, in the wake of Bryant's comment: Do NBA players work in an environment that is hostile to gay people? Might that be why no active player has ever come out of the closet?

Stern's response: "I don't think so. But I think that left unresponded to, statements like [Bryant's] could lead to a hostile work environment, and we're not going to have it."

Why, then, I asked, in an era when it's hard to find large businesses without openly gay employees, had no NBA player ever come out?

"I don't want to become a social crusader on this issue," Stern said, "but I think sports, male sports, has traditionally not been an inviting environment for gay men to identify themselves. But eventually ... we will get to a place where it is not an issue in sports."

Stern predicted some player would come out: "It's going to be hard, but it'll happen, I have no doubt about it."

David Thorpe has been watching the Warriors versus Nuggets series closely and has an array of observations and thoughts. He shared them by phone, and they are transcribed (and lightly edited for length) here:

Mark Jackson is incredibly inspiring

Mark Jackson has been absolutely tremendous. Everyone always wants to talk about X's and O's, but I believe the coaching game is half emotional. And on that stuff, he's scoring a 10 out of 10. They show those clips of Jackson during timeouts and he's inspiring Every. Single. Time.

Think about LeBron James and how he has grown as a player. It's not really about strategy, compared to a few years ago. It's about mentality. His biggest adjustment has been concentration and attention to detail. He has always had that quickness and size advantage. Now he punishes you with those every time you make a mistake guarding him. Now he's more balanced on his jumper and holds his follow-through. All things he has always known but that now he values more.

Denver is getting outplayed in those aspects. The Warriors are playing for their lives, and the coaching has a ton to do with it.

Jackson has been like the corner man in a heavyweight bout. Respect your opponent, but realize we're better. He's using action words, words with violence, but in a good way. He's got charisma. And look at his players' faces and you can see they absolutely believe.

Who would have guessed two weeks ago that in a Denver versus Golden State series, Golden State would have far more energy?

To my eyes, the Warriors were exhausted in Game 2. But they blew out the Nuggets anyway.

Stephen Curry walking the path

Coach Jackson has been saying amazing, uplifting, inspiring things about Steph Curry. And Curry has been "walking the path" as one of the best guards in the playoffs. Thirty-footers are within his range, and right now he absolutely believes he's going to make it.

If you were the Clippers, and right now you could pick any guard to lead your team for the next series, would you pick Chris Paul or Curry? We could argue all day about this for another series, or for next year. But for right now, I'd argue you'd be better off with Steph. Shooting is just so valuable, and Curry is playing like a top-five NBA player. (This also makes me think about that video we made about Trey Burke. Six-footers who can shoot the lights out are to be drafted quickly!)

George Karl is not inspiring

Everything's so different now. You know how many games Kosta Koufos started in the regular season? Eighty-one! You know how many he has started in this series? TWO! (He has played 64 total minutes in the four games of the series.) Evan Fournier was out of the rotation almost all year and is now starting. They've been moving the ball as well as any team all year and now the point guards, Ty Lawson and Andre Miller, both think they have to score to save the team (Ed. note: Miller's assists are down from 8.1 per 36 minutes in the regular season to 5.3. Lawson's are up a hair, from 7.2 to 7.5). This is also a strange time to see what Koufos and JaVale McGee can do together.

I recognize that injuries to Danilo Gallinari and Kenneth Faried mean changes. But this is beyond what was necessary, and it seems to have had an unsettling effect on the team. They were once a breathtaking team in transition.

They are not what they have been.

The Nuggets have not come out with confidence, and they often look confused.

They keep forgetting to guard the top 3-point shooter in the league!

Kenneth Faried is not himself

Faried can't move. He looks like he's running in quicksand. I've long thought he might be the quickest power forward in the league. Now he looks like an older version of Spencer Hawes. He's Brad Miller, basically.

For the Nuggets to be the Nuggets, the team that reeled off 15 impressive wins in a row in the regular season, they have got to have the Manimal. Without David Lee in this series, the Nuggets should own the offensive glass. But Faried can't move. He's such a key to cleaning up all those misses on offense. This just isn't the same guy.

You probably heard about Faried kicking a hole in the locker room wall? I feel like I understand that. That's the dejection of incredible frustration related to his injury. In college, I was taught about how stroke victims get counseling to deal with the incredible anguish and frustration that comes with new limitations, and having to think about things you never had to think about before.

Faried has never had to think about beating people to loose balls. That just came naturally. But not now.

Defensive mistakes

The difference between how the Bulls have adjusted to injuries and the Nuggets is stark. Every Bull knows where to go at all times on defense, no matter who's in the game. They have been perfecting that for years. The Nuggets often seem not to know where to go.

In particular, Denver seems to be reacting to the passed ball, instead of anticipating where the play will be and heading there earlier. When in doubt, they should be running toward Curry. He's the best shooter in the world!

Warriors getting the most out of players

You could make the case halfway through this season that, on offense at least, Draymond Green was really not an NBA-quality player. He is literally playing for his basketball life.

And it looks like it. He is locked in to the idea of stopping the Nuggets at the point of attack. He's not just saying to himself that they're not going to score. He's saying they're not even going to get close. He is not the fastest guy on the floor, but he's so aggressive nobody can do anything against him anyway. Andre Miller scored a game winner against him, and it's almost like ever since then Draymond has said, "OK, that's not happening again."

Andrew Bogut has been a huge, huge, huge story. His energy and defensive presence have defined the interior play for the entire series. And on offense, well, in Game 4 he managed to score six field goals in 26 minutes. The Nuggets' big men, Koufos and McGee, managed just one bucket between them in more than 28 minutes.

Jarrett Jack's quickness makes a big difference, too. Denver is steering driving players toward the help. But Jack is so fast that he's just blowing right by them at full speed -- they're doing nothing to slow him down -- and then he loves to shoot a floater before the help can bother him. Against a lot of players, it's a good defensive approach to encourage the floater. But Jack loves it.

In his book "Relentless," legendary NBA trainer Tim Grover talks about what motivates his superstar clients Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant and Dwyane Wade. Then he talks about different character types, the highest of which, in his judgment, is what he calls a "cleaner." Jordan, Bryant and Wade are, Grover says, all cleaners.

What about LeBron James, whom Grover does not train? Grover met James when the then high-schooler hanging around Grover's Chicago gym during Michael Jordan's comeback pickup games.

James is not a cleaner, says Grover -- who also primarily credits Wade with the Heat's 2012 title. James has a chance to become a cleaner, however, says Grover, right now in these playoffs.

A who's who of NBA players are on the shelf. A team made of Russell Westbrook, Derrick Rose, Kobe Bryant, Steve Nash, Rajon Rondo, Danny Granger, David Lee, Danilo Gallinari, Amare Stoudemire, and Lou Williams would contend. Instead all those players and more are out for all or most of the playoffs.

Asking what caused all those injuries takes you on a bit of wild goose chase. There have always been injuries in all sports; I doubt we'll ever know if these are connected in some way or just a random and unlucky collection of events.

But there is a better question with more of an answer: Are there things we can do to reduce the likelihood of injuries in the future? That's what Working Bodies is all about. And that's where the research is not crystal clear, but has been getting incredibly busy.

Violent moments

Russell Westbrook was injured on a play where Patrick Beverley went all out to help his team win -- even if it was both a long shot to work, and obviously creating one of the highest risk moments of Westbrook's night.

In the aftermath many have talked about Beverley's intent -- as if it's a important to know if he wanted to injure Westbrook or not. I say let's skip that debate. We'll never know his intent, and who cares anyway. Let's talk risk. Risk we know. All by himself Beverley created a moment that in retrospect is costing Westbrook, the Thunder and NBA fans a bunch of performances that were dear to all of them.

If I roll a bowling ball down the corridor of my office building, I may well hurt somebody. I might do it only with the most fun of intentions. But if you manage the building ... who cares? What matters is I don't do it again. What matters is I value my co-workers safety a little more.

The NBA would like Beverley to place a little higher value on Westbrook's safety. Forget what's dirty or not, or unknowable things like who's thinking evil thoughts. What's likely to cause injuries? Let's reduce that. Let's get players thinking, just a little more, about making sure they don't end each other's seasons. That's where plays like Beverley's, as well as blows to the head, and any plays that risk players hitting their heads on the court -- all things we now know are more dangerous than we ever thought -- ought to be the kinds of things the rules and the referees aggressively discourage.

Players going all-out to help their teams win will always have their supporters. It's a macho world. You won't get NBA legends lining up to support the NBA on this kind of change. That's fine. But if you're in David Stern's office, it's a problem that a player could make a dangerous decision like that, reckless enough to possibly end the season of the most resilient player in NBA history, and not even be called for a common foul, let alone a flagrant or an ejection.

These violent high-risk moments could be much more scarce. Many are intentional, which means they're not inevitable or part of the game, and would be easy to stop if people wanted to. Much of the time playing with little care about injuring others helps your team. If you ran the league, wouldn't you have to fix that?

A marathon

There's another lingering question for the league to consider: Are player spending too much time exhausted, and does that put them at excessive risk to get injured?

A little detour into running: If you train to run 400 meters -- that's one lap of the track -- training will include some 100-meter sprints and some mile-or-longer runs. Training works like that, more or less. You attack from all angles. Train for a five kilometer (3.1 mile) race and you can bet you'll do some sprints, as well as some runs are much longer than 3.1 miles.

But then there's the marathon. It's 26.2 miles. And if you train for a marathon, almost no matter what training regimen you use, you'll never be asked to run more than 20 miles.

 

Pretty weird, huh? You want to do five miles fast as you can, you'll sometimes run ten. You want to do ten miles fast as you can, and training involves regular runs of 12 or 15.

Race 26.2, though, and even at elite levels, chances are race day will take you further than any other day of the year. Almost all the experts agree on this.

And the reasoning is simple: Get a lot of people running 25 miles, and you'll get a lot of people injured. It just happens that way. There's some kind of real limit around 20 miles. Push past that, and maybe some outliers can handle it, but for the broad population it's just courting trouble.

Marathoners have known about this for decades and have long been skipping the monster training runs.

Meanwhile, it's looking like the 82-game NBA regular season might work like one monster training run.

Exhaustion does weird stuff

From a 2010 Brad Stenger article published by the Medill School of Journalism:

Gregory Dupont from the University of Lille's Laboratory of Human Movement Studies in France monitored injuries during the 2007-2008 and 2008-2009 UEFA Champions League seasons. He found the injury rate was six times higher when players played two matches per week versus one match per week. He published the study in the American Journal of Sports Medicine last April.

During the regular season NBA teams play 2-4 games per week and travel longer distances than a typical European soccer team.

Researchers have been putting little heart rate and motion sensors on soccer players in Europe. What they've been finding is something not unlike what marathon training regimens have long known: Get somebody exhausted, and their likelihood of injury skyrockets, even for the kinds of injuries you might think have nothing to do with fatigue.

When you're fresh, your soft tissue has a certain elasticity. Your muscles and tendons can cope with a normal amount of upset, like say, another player bashing into you while you're trying to call a timeout. Also, your own ability to be balanced and coordinated -- now we're talking nervous system stuff -- is good when you're in your comfort zone. On top of all that, when you're training a comfortable amount, it's a cinch to maintain good form.

Get yourself good and worn out, though, and a lot of those systems that keep you safe go away. I started training for marathons a few years ago, and the first time I ran 18 miles, I felt great most of the time, but with about two miles left things changed. I started to feel mighty brittle, like if somebody were to push me ever-so-gently from the side I would simply topple over. Not to mention I was bleary-eyed, imbalanced, with ragged form, and making poor decisions. Where you used to have these living, breathing, expanding, contracting things called muscles it feels like you now have old rope.

It's more than a little scary, in that state, to encounter the tiniest obstacles. A bumpy sidewalk, a twig in the street, a car that doesn't give you much room ... any and all can put you in peril. You have little ability to adjust to life's little challenges.

Research suggests you're an off-the-charts injury risk at that moment. And it feels like it.

In soccer they've been finding that same stuff. Exhausted players evidently lack normal range of motion, balance and coordination. An impact, fall or collision that might not injure a rested person might injure someone who has been going hard every day for months. In soccer, experts working with this theory have, amazingly, predicted injuries before they happen. Basically, they can look at who's running ragged out there, who's deep in the red zone of exhaustion. And then they have often been correct -- even though the injury ends up coming on a fluky-seeming play.

Word is spreading

Increasingly, NBA teams are tuning into the perils of exhaustion. One of those soccer experts who brags about predicting injuries is Italian Jean-Pierre Meerseman, who spoke at the Global Sports Management Summit in May in San Francisco. Many NBA bigwigs were in the audience, and they report he blew their minds with tales of knowing who'd be injured before the injury happened.

One NBA front office guy who tracks the work of Meerseman and others says he's increasingly coming to the view that the best approach for stars is to spend as much time as possible with their feet up. He's thinking the winning approach, given the rigorous schedule, might be to forego everything else, as in every practice all season, as well as every minute of play that wasn't essential.

A company called Apollo MIS, which recently merged with STATS, does some of that European-soccer style exhaustion tracking, and has some NBA clients. One of their most enthusiastic is the Spurs ... the very team which leads the league every year in intentionally sitting stars. A game when the schedule has been harsh on them? Tim Duncan, Manu Ginobili and Tony Parker sit. Ditto for any fourth quarter when the game isn't close. Even as some claim they've found the fountain of youth for Duncan and the like, they've even gotten in trouble with the league for it.

But the way the data is shaping up, it seems likely the league is going to face some tough choices: Change the schedule in a profound way to allow for meaningful rest and real in-season training. Or stare down the barrel of a growing body of evidence suggesting one of the things causing NBA injuries are decisions made by the NBA.