I went to my first women's professional basketball game last week.
Yes, I'd been to numerous ABL games in San Jose and two previous ones in Sacramento, but Tuesday I finally felt like I was in a professional atmosphere.
The difference wasn't in the caliber of play, which is roughly the same in the WNBA and ABL. The difference wasn't in the coaching, or the officiating, or in the size of the arena, or even in the marketing prowess of the WNBA. And no, it wasn't because the food in the press room is better in Sacramento.
The difference, the professional difference, was in the fans.
In the ABL, everybody was happy. The fans were from a collegiate background, where you root, root, root for the home team and if they don't win it's a shame -- but they're still our girls (or women) and they try so hard and they're sure to win next time. And if they don't, well, it sure was fun, and isn't it great to see women have their own league?
Well, yes, as a matter of fact, it is -- but when the guy behind me in Sacramento screamed at point guard Chantel Tremitiere for the fifth time to `Shoot the damn ball,' I finally felt like I was seeing a professional game.
That fan's expectation, and it's a justified one, is that he's going to see basketball played at its highest level. He's going to see players earn their money by not only playing hard, but playing smart -- and if they don't, he's going to point it out in no uncertain terms.
And Tremitiere doesn't shoot the damn ball. She'd rather make a fancy look-away pass than take the open 15-footer and folks, that's just bad basketball. And Judy Mosley-McAfee won't shoot either, unless she gets a court order countersigned by an assistant coach, and that's bad basketball too.
At the Lasers' games, such on-court stupidity might have been noted in post-game gatherings at the pizza parlor, but no one would have dared to openly criticize one of the sweet San Jose players who work so hard and all went to Stanford anyway and are therefore objects of worship rather than players with flaws.
That's nice, I guess, and very supportive, but it's not what professional sports are about. At the professional level, fans, players and coaches expect and demand that the game be played as it was meant to be played. Trying hard is great, but as Tommy Lasorda once said, `I can get truck drivers in here to try hard for $500,000 a year, but they'll never make a play.'
And half a play doesn't count. Tremitiere made a nice steal at midcourt (she's not a bad player, by the way), but missed the ensuing left-handed layup. `You gotta finish,' yelled a fan.
You do have to finish, and the criticism was right on. It doesn't matter if you make the steal if you then miss the layup to give the other team the ball back.
Professional basketball, men's or women's, is an exhibition of skill, grace and intelligence that should exemplify the best the game has to offer. Obviously, that doesn't happen all the time, but that should be the goal. That's why we watch, after all -- the sociological aspects are nice, and it's great to see these players we've never seen before, but the WNBA and ABL must deliver basketball, good basketball.
At most levels, though, good basketball isn't necessarily the goal. In high school, for example, nobody can expect much more than effort. These are young people learning a hard game, and they deserve and need support for whatever they do.
At the college level, it's more about the school than about the game itself -- though questions of quality do intrude now and again. But when the people in the white hats are playing Archrival U., school pride and undergraduate enthusiasm should and do overwhelm any concern about the level of play.
But, now at the pros, expectations should be higher. The fans of the teams, and the fans of women's basketball, should demand that the professionals deliver the goods. If they don't, then they are letting down everyone who's promoting the sport, and everyone who believes that women can truly play the game well.
Bad attitudes, sloppy play, dumb coaching and fundamental mistakes should not and cannot be tolerated at the professional level, and the fans should be the voice of the vast women's basketball public that demands high quality.
`You gotta finish,' cried the voice from the stands, and the WNBA and ABL had better listen. There's no doubt they've made a great start, but if they want to finish, they have to realize that they're selling professional basketball -- and that means trying hard has to be a distant second to playing the game as it was meant to be played.
7/4/97