Tim Donaghy wrote a book that you’re not going to read.  His book answered questions that you probably didn’t even think to ask.

What if every rumor about the NBA were true?  What if they did fix that 2002 Lakers/Kings Game 6?  What if certain refs were assigned to achieve certain outcomes?  What if refs made bets about who could call the most fouls or targeted certain players?  What if Dick Bavetta wasn’t incompetent but instead was diabolical?

We’ve always seen it—we laugh about “star treatment” and that the “NBA wanted it to go 7”—but would it still be funny if it were all true?  What if the game that we love, the game that we take seriously, the game that the players take seriously, what if the refs and the league were fixing all of it?  What if it turns out the NBA is only half a step above wrestling?

The NBA faces a work stoppage and financial crisis—but worrying about that would be like worrying about the New Orleans public school system while Katrina was happening.  The NBA is facing the single biggest problem that a league could face.  They don’t just have an officiating problem, they are facing the possibility that the outcomes weren’t real.  They are facing a whistle-blower and they are facing charges of a massive cover-up.  But the good news for the NBA and the bad news for us—the cover-up is working.

What cover-up?  It’s a good question.  It’s the kind of question that answers itself.  If you have to ask if there is a cover-up, it means there was a cover-up.

Which brings us back to Tim Donaghy and his book.  You remember him right?  NBA ref.  Officiated some, um, questionable games.  Went to jail.  It’s a rather unusual story.  I personally don’t remember any other officials from any league that served jail time, certainly don’t remember any that was caught betting on games.  Soccer had it happen.  But in Italy, where their scandal occurred, some teams were in on it.  And soccer refs had the fundamental advantage that there is one ref.  One pair of eyes, and it’s easy to “miss” a few key plays in soccer—happens to the best of them—and more often than not, those few key misses decide the game.

But basketball’s not like that.  Three refs, a hundred calls each per game, few of them ever really make the difference.  For a ref to ‘fix’ a basketball game it takes dozens of calls, some of them obviously wrong; it’s tough to change the outcome of a basketball game without someone noticing.  And we did notice.  We noticed Game 6 of Lakers/Kings, we noticed the Suns get screwed, we noticed the quick Ts and the long breaks between fouls.  We noticed the nights that we should have taken the Over.  And someone did take the Over.  Tim Donaghy did.  He didn’t even need to be the ref that night to know what was going to happen.

Interesting.  And yet the NBA says he acted alone.  Tim Donaghy.  On the grassy knoll.  With the whistle.

But that doesn’t really make sense does it?  Why would he bet on games he wasn’t the referee on?  Or more precisely why could he win so much on games he wasn’t the ref on?  He had inside knowledge.  Inside knowledge that Crawford wanted games to end quickly.  Inside knowledge like Bavetta favoring the home team.  That’s inside knowledge that the league not only knew about all this, but they were orchestrating it.  Enter David Stern, the Jack Ruby of our story.  Tim Donaghy’s book, a real interesting read, will not be read.  David Stern let the publisher know the kind of hell that he can rain down.  And all the whistle-blowing in the world doesn’t change the fact that lawsuits are costly.  More costly than a book is profitable.  And suddenly, Donaghy’s story- his story of his own personal corruption and of the corruption of his employer- was silenced.

Every sports league has its demons, has the fundamental problems that it wink, wink, nudge, nudge allowed for decades.  Concussions in football.  Steroids in baseball.  Ultimately everyone—players and fans alike—signed the permission slip and are fine with the cover-charge.  But the NFL’s best attempts to sweep this agreement under the rug have been outed by Malcolm Gladwell and the New Yorker and their comparisons of football to dog-fighting.  Yet the New Yorker hasn’t seemed to care too much about the NBA’s demons- quite possibly because the Knicks killed New York’s fighting spirit.  Or ask your local Congressman whether the NBA will steroid-style hearings.  I can guarantee they won’t.

Some of Donaghy’s assertions (makeup calls do exist) seem obvious although previously unconfirmed.  Some of his stories (every a ref holding a grudge against Allen Iverson after he criticized a ref) seem gossipy but not unbelievable.  Other stories (making a bet with fellow refs before the game who could go the longest without calling a foul) seem like harmless pranks like a cop saying ‘meow’ ten times while writing you a ticket. 

And that’s when it should hit home—imagine you’re an NBA player, are they still harmless pranks?  I know they aren’t the most sympathetic of characters but bottom line is they are just dudes trying to go to work.  Picture the refs are their supervisor.  What if your supervisor changed the rules on you constantly (that’s not that hard to imagine for some of us)?  Like some real-like version of Trading Places imagine these people arbitrarily deciding to mess with you and bet on the outcome.  Imagine that you’ve dedicated your life, that you’re entire life is based on winning, and then imagine that the league decided that you’re not going to win tonight.  Well actually the league decided that they’re going to set up more hurdles to you winning, they’re going to make you play by a different set of rules.

The unfairness of it all is what’s most striking, and like I said I know that NBA players don’t usually generate sympathy but think back over the last few years when players complained about the officiating, it turns out they weren’t crying wolf.  How can we watch a game that isn’t fair?  How can we care this much about something that is this scripted?  Suddenly the NBA is The Hills to the NFL’s Real World/Road Rules Challenge.

In Lucky Number Sleven there is a story of a horse race that was fixed.  A waiter overheard the fix, he told his brother, who told his neighbor, who told his friend, etc. etc. etc.  Until it makes its way to a low-level gambler.  Desperate, he bets on the guaranteed winner.  Except that the mob doesn’t appreciate it when other people profit on something that only they should be profiting on.  The mob knows when the fix is in, and if you’re not invited in on the fix, then you better not bet, because the mob will shut you up.  Tim Donaghy has been shut up.

Maybe I’m exaggerating.  Maybe Donaghy is.  Maybe the NBA isn’t as bad as wrestling.  Maybe it’s closer to boxing.  In fact the NBA should study boxing’s problems closely.  Corruption has knocked out boxing. 

Can the NBA be knocked out?  It’s a good question, and one that you probably didn’t even think to ask.