The Game

I thought it funny when the ’22 Warriors looked at the rim in Boston and said it was off. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. They’ve collectively taken millions of shots in their lifetimes. There’s someone bound to know something doesn’t look right.

But what happens when you’re looking for it? When you’re expecting it? When you’re using it as a crutch? How many NBA teams have called out a rim mid-game? Do they do it when they’re losing? Winning?

The tale of the tape is nice. It makes us feel good. We can look at a 10-foot measuring stick and see the rim exceeds two inches. We can evaluate the boxer on her reach, the swimmer on his wingspan, the goalie on their height. It makes us feel nice.

But sometimes the tape doesn’t tell the whole story. It doesn’t account for the people who begin to attack the tape manufacturer, the official holding the tape, the entire measuring system. Can you imagine if the Celtics called into question the imperial measurement system? If they said the measuring stick was bogus?

And then all the Celtics fans, because they want the Celtics to maintain an advantage, only support the players and coaching staff that buy into this? And that, even though the stick is measured, analyzed, and processed by the proper folks designated to do so, they say the whole system is busted, broken, corrupt.

They want their own officials. Boston officials. Officials who believe the NBA actually needs its own measuring system: one that will satisfy the great lie that the height of the room was not two inches two high.

They’d do it. The one thing stopping them is that we still have collective faith in the tape, the measuring stick, the refereeing body — as long as we don’t have too many lite beers shotgunned in the stands.