Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Donaghy Disappoints In "Personal Foul: A First-Person Account Of The Scandal That Rocked The NBA "


I went in expecting a badass Henry Hill in Goodfellas-type confession.


What I got was a scared little school boy spilling his guts to the principal, ratting out every bully in his class. It’s an over-the-top, "aw shucks," you're right; I am wrong, kiss-ass confession.


He even goes as far as to compare himself to Ray Liota in Goodfellas, but his drug was gambling, not cocaine.


Donaghy owes us more. He owes me more. He owes you more. He owes every basketball fan the "real" story. Not just what he told his lawyers, what he told the grand jury, what's on the court's record, and what he said to Bob Simon on 60 Minutes.


The book, Personal Foul: A First-person Account of the Scandal That Rocked the NBA, is a version of what Donaghy wants us to know. There's no new dirt, no juicy details, or any new-found revelations that casual NBA fans couldn't extrapolate from the media coverage. It's a Pete Rose, "I'm guilty now let me into the Hall of Fame," sugar-coated confession. Rose's confession, like Donaghy's, comes with ulterior motives.


Now don't get me wrong, Rose should be enshrined in Cooperstown for his merits on the field, but his lackluster confession book was no more than a degenerate gambler looking to make a buck...and a last-ditch effort at a “pardon” into the Hall of Fame.


We can’t forget that Donaghy is a liar and a felon, and obviously hasn’t owned up to his full involvement in the scandal. He writes, “I was the right kind of pinch for a gangster: a little cocky, a little greedy, and very reckless, the careless guy who gets in over his head and needs two extra hands and a rope to get pulled out.”


But he never lets us know how far in over his head he really was. Instead, he points fingers, named names, and makes us think he’s doing us a favor.


The tone of the book portrays a guy wanting us to like him. It begs us to applaud him for telling the "truth," confessing his sins, and for all of us to forgive him. However, in trying to do this, the writer actually allows the reader to see right through Donaghy and his intentions.


The writing-style is so over-the-top that it seems too rehearsed and becomes increasingly annoying for the reader. I found myself asking several times, “Come on dude…you can tell me what how it really went down.”


Donaghy writes, “The first time Jack and I placed a wager on an NBA game, I couldn’t believe what I was doing. I knew it was wrong and that I had sunk to a new low, but the rush was overwhelming.” He continues later, “Perhaps the excitement came from something more than just the fact that I had placed a very dangerous wage. Perhaps it emanated from the knowledge that I had an edge, that I knew something very few others knew and that of those few, I was undoubtedly the only one breaking the law.”


Of course you were “undoubtedly breaking the law.”


But Tim, buddy, we need more.


Donaghy never says that NBA games were scripted. But he writes, “Veteran sports columnist of the Toronto Star got it right when he said, ‘Basketball, of all sports, is the easiest to manipulate.’”


Despite what some people have accused, he never makes it out that games are similar to WWE matches. He just says that he could make a very strong, high-percentage guess on the outcome of games only by knowing the referees’ assignments. Being a referee, Donaghy was one of a select group of people who had access to such a list.


He said that he knew each referees’ tendencies, habits, and relationships with players and coaches, etc. He even goes as far as claiming the 2002 Western Conference Finals between the Lakers and the Kings was fixed. He says that the NBA assigned two referees, who were “company men,” to act in the interest of the NBA and extend the series to a game seven. It was the only seven-game series that year and the NBA wanted the TV ratings and drama of a “winner take all, loser goes home,” sudden death seventh game.


In this case, however, Donaghy’s allegations hold some merit. The Lakers defeated the Kings in Game Six, 106-102, and attempted 18 more free throws than the Kings, and an alarming 27 total in the fourth quarter. The Lakers went on to win Game Seven and win the 2002 NBA Championship.


But let’s not get carried away here. I agree that fouls can influence games, but players still have to make the shots. A three-pointer is a three-pointer, a jumper is a jumper, and a dunk is a dunk. There’s no manipulating those shots. And players still have to make the shots from the free throw line.


If nothing more, Donaghy’s book made me pay attention to refs, players, game-flow, relationships within the game, foul calls, and other aspects that usually fly under the radar. I’m not going lie, I always know now that when I am watching a game and Dick Bevetta is officiating, come the fourth quarter, the losing team will always make a run.


But that’s ok.


Going into every NBA game, we accept the ref's opinion, judgment, and interpretations. If he or she thinks it's a foul, he or she calls it and we accept it. We can agree or disagree, the coaches can argue, players can complain -- but inevitably we move onto the next play.


This is what we agreed to from the beginning. Players play, coaches coach, and refs ref.


Now a referee with a hidden agenda... No, we didn't agree to that.

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