The Edited Version Of An NBA Timeout

In keeping with the trend towards increased accessibility into the inner workings of an NBA contest–a trend serious enough to give spectators who are able and willing to pay for the privilege a better view of game action than some of the assistant coaches–the nationally-televised games will occasionally feature an inside look at the edited version of an NBA timeout. These heavily-edited peeks inside the NBA timeout reveal very little, but recent conversations have me convinced that some viewers are being fooled, though unintentionally.

(It is unintentional, right?)

HERE’S WHAT WE SEE

What we do see is plenty of coaches giving basic basketball  instructions these players have heard since they were seven years old(“When we score, we have to get back on defense! On a missed shot we have to get the rebound! And we have to take good shots.”). Otherwise, we get the very end of the timeout, the encouragement part (“C’mon guys, lets go! Let’s get a stop! Let’s get a good shot! We’re still in this! Let’s go!”).

Rather basic stuff, but it at least gives the appearance of an inside look at something we never used to have access to, when what we’re really getting is a 20-second soundbite from a 100-second timeout.

And we’re getting the safest part.

HERE’S WHAT WE DON’T SEE

We don’t get to see the real thrust of the timeout. No real strategy is revealed, no adjustments, no plays being drawn up. We don’t get to see the coach instructing an individual player, nor do we get–to the disappointment of some–a coach getting in the face of a player not performing up to expectations. We don’t get the contentious back-and-forth that sometimes goes on between players or even between players and coaches. We don’t get to see who’s getting blamed for missed defensive rotations or stopping the ball movement.

And the biggest hint that we’re not getting the full timeout message? No profanity.

There’s some serious editing going on.

And why would we see that? No coach is going to agree to allow live television cameras into his huddle while he’s drawing up a play, so someone on the other side with a phone can watch and alert the team to what’s coming. No coach is going to agree to allow the inner workings of the team to be put on public display unless they’re the subject of a documentary. And that’s not live television.

Yes, sometimes we see things out in the open–a disagreement between player and coach–but those things are in the heat of battle.

SO WHAT’S THE PROBLEM?

A couple of years ago, when the Knicks were searching for a head coach (I know–narrow it down, right?) before deciding on Jeff Hornacek, I overheard a conversation on the subway between three guys giving their opinion on who the Knicks should hire. So one guy said he wanted Mark Jackson. I get it, he’s local, played at St. John’s, used to play for the Knicks, has coaching experience, etc., and he’s still a popular choice in the Knicks’ current search for a head coach (They just hired David Fizdale).

The response this guy got from one of his buddies was borderline unbelievable. He cited one of these national television timeout peeks featuring Mark Jackson as coach of the Golden State Warriors, used that as the basis for rejecting him as a coaching option, and was rather vociferous about it: “Mark Jackson? Are you kidding me? That guy can’t coach! Have you seen his timeouts? All he does is give inspirational quotes and rah-rah speeches! We need a real coach, not a television analyst!”

So this guy was basically trashing the possible selection of Mark Jackson was head coach of the Knicks based on a 20-second soundbite. It would have been easy to dismiss this as an aberration until I started hearing this convoluted logic in other places.

I remember having a “discussion” with someone on a fan board about Mike D’Antoni, and ended up defending him after the poster suggested that the Knicks were correct to fire him because they saw one of these huddles as coach of the Houston Rockets where all he basically said was “Let’s go, guys” repeatedly. To be truthful, if the camera is on D’Antoni, you can often read his lips yelling out “Let’s go, guys!” but that clearly isn’t the extent of his coaching ability.

DON’T BE FOOLED

No need to call up your team’s front office to complain about a coach they’ve interviewed based on these timeout tidbits, or even those training camp sessions on NBA TV. Most coaches probably don’t want even that small level of intrusion; they’re not giving up inside information that easily. I remember Doc Rivers running some basic drills but constantly telling the camera crews documenting the Clippers’ training camp “I’m not showing that” when it was time to practice some offensive sets.

Part sport, part entertainment. This timeout stuff partially addresses the second part.