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The Debriefing: Manu Ginobili Needs a Code Red

The Debriefing is a column that runs every weekday at 9:00 a.m. here on FanHouse. It goes deep into one issue and then bounces around to a plethora of smaller ones ... and does it all in a way that will make you feel like the prettiest girl at the cotillion. Bookmark this page, and visit daily.

I'd never condone a fan throwing something on to the court, but Monday night in San Antonio, as foreign objects rained down on the Spurs, I've got to confess that I wouldn't have been terribly upset if a rusty tire iron flew down from the upper deck directly into Manu Ginobili's face.

Let me be upfront about this: I'm a Spurs admirer. I strongly disagree with those who say the Spurs play boring basketball, and if I had to make a list of my favorite guys in the league to watch, Tim Duncan's probably going to be the first name on it. I'm even eager to admit that Manu Ginobili is a sensational talent.

But I've grown to hate him. You should, too. We've all got something to lose with Manu Ginobili.

I've long ago accepted flopping as a part of the NBA. Two people forced me to do so: Shaq and Vlade Divac. Shaq, because when he was in his prime, flopping was the only way to defend him. O'Neal's gargantuan proportions forced an offensive foul every time he moved towards the basket with a man behind him. But if you didn't exaggerate the effects of the contact, you weren't getting the call.

And let's not downplay Vlade's role in this, because before Ginobili, he was the NBA's flop king. I don't know if it was the beard, the accent, the chain-smoking, or just that Vlade just seemed like lovable guy, but I could never be mad at Vlade for anything. He could put pornographic pictures of my grandmother on the Jumbotron at Arco, and I'd say, "Oh, that Vlade, he's such a kidder."

Manu Ginobili, however, lacks that same charm.

Before Ginobili, the NBA sort of had its own style of flopping, different and less offensive than what goes on in soccer. It used to be limited to post play and stepping in and taking charges as someone drove the lane. But now, this balding son of a strumpet will flop anywhere on the court, at any time, at any distance away from the ball, and for any amount of pretend contact. At this point, Manu Ginobili makes Vlade Divac look like Chuck Wepner.

Let me also say that I know that Manu Ginobili isn't the only guilty party here. There are varying degrees of floppers all over the league, but Ginobili's made himself the standard-bearer. In Game 4 against Utah, his flop act was the lone reason that the sweet, harmless, completely non-aggressive Derek Fisher was ejected from the game.

Fisher picked up his first technical after he turned to run up the floor, and gently brushed up against Ginobili, who then flew backwards like he had been hit by a Buick. Fisher ended up with a technical for unintentionally grazing Ginobili with his torso. Minutes later, Fisher picked up his second T when Ginobili flopped after Fisher actually did foul him on a three-pointer. I believe Fisher said something to insult Ginobili's masculinity, the ref heard it, and Fisher was ejected.

What Ginobili's doing isn't normal, and it has to stop. I'm not merely saying that this is something I don't like, I'm not saying I want Manu Ginobili to lose. I'm saying that if those goes unchecked, I fear for the future of the NBA. I'm saying that I want Dawson and Downey to break into Ginobili's room and stuff a contaminated rag into his mouth before this goes any farther.

It's not good for anyone. It's bad for fans, as the NBA gets farther away from honest competitive efforts and closer to a contest of who can be the craftiest, sneakiest, most devious lowlife in the league. It's bad for the league because it pushes the NBA closer to soccer, which will lead to soccer-like TV ratings.

And it's bad for the players because the honest ones who attempt to walk the straight and narrow. Manu Ginobili couldn't be doing more damage to the NBA if he showed up at the rookie symposium with a smallpox blanket.

The contamination hasn't spread that far yet. It's gotten to fellow South American Anderson Varejao (and perhaps also to this gentleman, who shared a hotel with Ginobili and then felt compelled to take an altogether different kind of dive), but no one else in the league is in Ginobili's same flopping class.

And that's why I'm not worried about this sounding like a gross overstatement. This is a problem that needs to be nipped in its Argentinian bud. Protecting the NBA from serial floppers should be the league's top concern this off-season. Yes, even more important than microfiber basketballs and what type of pants Samuel Dalembert is wearing when he shows up to the arena.

I'd like to see a rule that makes a blatant flop a technical foul. I realize that it would be impossible to enforce this correctly, and that a ton of issues come along with it, but I don't care. If flopping backfires on a few of the repeat offenders and they get T'd up, the practice will slow down dramatically. This isn't something that the NBA will have to enforce vigorously for an entire year. Just show that it can happen, and the threat will be enough to keep floppers at bay.

That's not enough, though. I'd like to see some kind of internal handling of the matter ... which brings us back to the Code Red. Whatever it was that Derek Fisher said to Ginobili to get himself ejected was somewhat justified. The game had been decided by that point, he didn't cost his team anything ... the only problem is that he didn't go far enough. Maybe Fisher shouldn't have said a word, he just should have looked at Ginobili laying on the floor, and kicked him in the mouth. The series is 3-1 anyway, and the Jazz are probably going to lose tonight. He might as well have done the rest of us a favor.

Fisher's too sweet of a guy for that, though. I'm pretty confident that if I had ten minutes alone in a room with Ron Artest, I could convince him that messing up Manu Ginobili is a good thing for all of us, and it would finally get the public back on his side. I'm pretty sure that "Ron, Manu told me that everyone from Queensbridge is a pansy," would do the trick. And Ron Artest could solve all of our problems.

For the Scrapbook


NBA official Dan Crawford closes his eyes and goes to his happy place.

Sticking and Moving

Kobe Bryant Would Like Some Help, and He'd Like it Immediately ...

I'm thrilled that Kobe Bryant is being so vocal about the inadequacies of the Lakers front office (as outlined nicely by our own Nate Jones). If you're at work, and you're doing your job well, but no one else is doing their job ... you can either rally the troops and get them to step up, or you can sit there and mope and wait for the inevitable substandard product. Kobe's doing the former. Kevin Garnett's done the latter.

I hate to come down on Garnett like that, because I do love the guy. But some righteous indignation would do him so good. What's he worried about, his public image? Seeming like a nice guy? That's more important than winning?

Kobe's outburst is going to work. The Lakers are going to do something to get him some help this off-season. It might be Jermaine O'Neal, it might be Zach Randolph, it might be any number of guys. And Kobe's willingness to speak up, regardless of whether or not you consider it selfish, childish, or egotistical, will be part of the reason for it.

Why Yes, Chris Henry, I'd Love For You to Have My Job ...

Running back LenDale White was the only member of the Titans organization who couldn't make it to the voluntary-but-not-really organized team activities, and Jeff Fisher seems anxious to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"I hope to have him back on the practice field Thursday. But again, everybody else was here, he wasn't. I'm anxious to hear what kind of excuse he has."
Warm and fuzzy and supportive.

This does potentially end up being good news for fantasy football players, though. The Titans drafted Chris Henry out of Arizona, and LenDale's delinquency puts Henry closer to being a lone featured back for the Titans.

Clay Achin' ...

I would not be upset at all if American tennis players just refused to play the French Open. In the first round, eight American men were eliminated. Eight! In the first round! Robby Ginepri's the only one still alive, and his match was suspended due to darkness. He should come out today and Richie Tenenbaum it, just as a show of solidarity to his countrymen.

I've never understood why they even have a tournament on clay. The game, I'd imagine, originated on grass ... and eventually, someone figured out that the court was more convenient and required less maintenance if they made a hardcourt. Fine. Two perfectly natural surfaces on which to play tennis.

And then one day, a French guy goes, "Hey, what if we played on clay?" I don't know, Frenchy, what if we played baseball on a bunch of rusted out mattresses? What if we played football in a drained swimming pool? What if we played water polo in a giant vat of Campbell's tomato soup?

This is not like women's wrestling, which is done in baby oil for a reason. Why do this on clay? Just because it's different and weird? I don't get it. If Andy Roddick or anyone else just wants to boycott the French Open, I wouldn't hold it against them.

This Apology Is on, Dawg ...

Devil Rays outfield Elijah Dukes issued this prepared apology after allegedly threatening to kill his wife last week.
"I would like to apologize to my family, teammates, the fans and the organization for the distraction that this situation has caused. I would like to thank them for standing by me and hope that my family and I can move on and put this behind us."
Notably missing: "I'm sorry I threatened to murder you, wife of mine." As well as: "I'm sorry, children, for threatening to murder your mother."

But Elijah Dukes has the fans' back, though. Stand-up guy.


Yesterday's MVP

LeBron James. It wasn't a masterpiece by any means (25 points, 11 assists, 7 boards), but it looked like he was about to back up his monstrous Game 3 with a lame Game 4 (I kind of expected that to happen, to be honest with you). But eleven of LeBron's points came in the final quarter, he kept his aggressiveness, he went to the basket, and he took the big shots. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, but he understood that the appropriate place for his teammates was on his back.

Yesterday's Sad Sack

Chauncey Billups. He finally got his offense going last night in the first half. And for the next 24 minutes, he stopped doing everything that worked for him in the first 24. He had 18 in the first half, 5 in the second. And to put the icing on the cake, he committed the game-sealing turnover in crunch time, leaving his feet with no idea what he was going to do with the ball. This series has been completely un-Chauncey like. I'm beginning to suspect that he has an idiot twin brother who's kidnapped the real Chauncey and stolen his uniform.

The Evening's Agenda

5:00, ESPNU. NBA Pre-Draft Camp.
7:00, ESPN2. MLB. Cleveland Indians @ Boston Red Sox.
8:00, VS. NHL Stanley Cup Finals. Ottawa Senators @ Anaheim Ducks.
9:00, ESPN. NBA Playoffs. Utah Jazz @ San Antonio Spurs.

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