Since the NBA is considering altering the format of the All-Star Game, I have some ideas.
USA vs. The World has more juice than ever, from an NBA perspective. Think about the starting lineup the Americans would have to face: Nikola Jokić at center, Luka Dončić and Shai Gilgeous-Alexander in the backcourt, Giannis Antetokounmpo and Victor Wembanyama as the forwards. USA’s starting five ain’t a joke: Anthony Davis at center, LeBron James and Kevin Durant at forward, Stephen Curry and Anthony Edwards in the backcourt.
Or how about the old heads vs. the next generation? The under-30s against the gray beards. Or, make the dividing line the 2014 draft — halfway between LeBron’s draft and the last one. Turn it into a full-on NBA culture war. Gen Z vs. the Millennials. Make fans pick a side and divide San Francisco’s Chase Center, this season’s host arena, in half.
Oh, wait. Just thought of an even better alteration. The idea to end all ideas, sure to make the All-Star Game spectacular. It’s so clear a solution, it’s hard to believe no one in the NBA hasn’t already thought of it. So sure a fix is this, it might actually sound like a crazy idea.
PLAY HARD.
If not 100 percent, then 75. If not for the whole game, for a half. Even for just the final quarter.
Boom. Problem solved.
Any format changes are but Scotch Tape. Any concocted gimmicks are covering up the real issue like lacquering barbecue sauce on dry beef. The one thing everyone wants is to see the best players earnestly compete against each other.
Figure out what it takes to make that happen and do that. Because no one really wants to see defense powered by apathy and deep 3-pointers hoisted without regard. Otherwise, Washington Wizards games on League Pass would be a party.
The lure of the All-Star Game isn’t simply to see the best players. It’s to witness them face each other. There aren’t any real stakes. So the lone draw is the rare occasion to see opposing teams loaded with superstars go at each other.
The All-Star Game once was the only place to see this collection of stars together. To see what type of personality they had and how they interacted with each other. It was the chance to see some of the new stars you heard about but didn’t get to watch usually.
Just seeing the stars on the court together isn’t enough in the modern era to make the NBA All-Star Game compelling. (Kevin Mazur / Getty Images)
But in the modern era, we see all of them all of the time. The way social media has reconfigured the landscape and the access to games through cable and streaming already gave them high visibility. And now they’re all pushing podcasts like aunties peddling Mary Kay in the ’90s. The sheer novelty of their presence has been diminished, the pageantry of the annual showcase undermined.
Undoubtedly, the mere gathering of such stars will always be a spectacle. You just don’t get the 10 best players of any era together outside of the All-Star Game, at least not in their prime. But such only increased the demand for a dramatic end to the weekend. The one way to secure it is to find a solution that prompts true competition.
We know they get after it. We know they’ll go hard. All it took was a trip to Las Vegas, some nail polish on the court and a $500,000 purse to make the NBA Cup real.
It’s a little more complicated than players ratcheting up their intensity. It’s not just on the players.
The league would have to make some sacrifices. Part of the issue the players face is the demand for their time during the weekend. The obligations seem to grow and will continue to do so as the league’s partners grow.
That’s the league’s money, so it must be done. But if it damages the product by limiting the potential of the All-Star Game, it’s worth reining in some of the demands.
GO DEEPER
How can the NBA fix the All-Star Game? Our writers share their ideas
As I’ve been told, the players’ preparation is so dramatically different at All-Star. The practices aren’t real, much more like the open-to-the-public practices teams do for their fans. The intrusiveness of the spectacle compromises pregame regimens.
If taking on the Utah Jazz requires full preparation, taking on the best in the league is worthy of it too. If the potential for injury in an exhibition game is a concern, it’s for sure heightened by inadequate prep time. Especially for an All-Star roster replete with players over a decade in.
The NBA can do things to free them up. Give them space for a real practice, one without TV cameras and fans interrupting with cheers.
Clear their schedules for Sunday. Make it all about the game. Even do the eight-hour introductions on Saturday or make the videos on Sunday. An AI-generated hologram of Donovan Mitchell standing on the stage not only works but also fits the Silicon Valley vibes of an All-Star Game in San Francisco. Meanwhile, the players can warm up in the practice facility.
Prioritize the game by making sure they have no excuses not to go hard.
Everything else concocted in the name of entertainment value is rooted in this same principle. From the Elam Ending to the players’ draft themselves to money for chosen charities. It is all designed with the same aim — to manufacture a competitive spirit. To incentivize intensity. To put some juice into the showcase.
Allen Iverson led a 21-point comeback in the 2001 NBA All-Star Game, leading the East to an improbable win over Kobe Bryant and the West. (Andy Hayt / NBAE via Getty Images)
Who could ever forget the 2001 All-Star Game? The Eastern Conference squad, led by Allen Iverson, rallied from a 21-point fourth-quarter deficit to stun the West. It was the most riveting display for a generation. Maybe ever. A comeback for the ages.
It didn’t require some contrived format. They weren’t worried about getting embarrassed or being criticized. They weren’t deterred by the possibility of injury and the jeopardy it could bring. They weren’t obsessed with numbers and recognition.
Yet, they provided an All-Star Game moment for the ages. In the final eight minutes, they lived up to the moment, honored their grand reputations and treated the NBA audience in such a way we still remember. And they did it by doing the one magic solution.
They played hard.
(Top photo: Brian Sevald / NBAE via Getty Images)