A Brief Note About the Real Madness in March

You want to know the real March Madness? It's this: professional coaches all over the college basketball landscape, leaders and molders of young men, CEOs of their teams, the top hoops strategists in the world, can't figure out a simple concept that is literally costing wins in league tournaments -- which means teams are losing league titles, and thus NCAA appearances, because coaches and players can't figure out something that's beyond obvious to me and empirically provable.

I saw this crop up in Siena's MAAC championship loss to Iona and Kansas State's Big 12 semi-final loss to West Virginia. In Siena's case, the punishment is the league title and the NCAA bid. In K-State's case, as a team squarely on the at-large bubble, it might or might not have cost them a place in the dance.

The Football Parallel
Before delving into this discernible, indisputable, self-evident strategic error, I want to take a trip back to review its football analog. Remember the days when teams ahead late in games rushed three defensive lineman and played their linebackers and corners way off the line to prevent the deep ball from beating them? Remember what an abject failure that strategy was, as trailing teams regularly marched down the field with short passes and scored tying and winning touchdowns? Remember how you howled at the TV when your team attempted this clearly ineffective strategy?  It eventually became so obvious that "prevent defenses" were preventing teams from winning that they finally -- finally! -- abandoned the practice.

That's what's going on for me in basketball. I yell at the television every year around this time while enjoying conference tournament action. Why is it so plain to me but apparently beyond the perception of highly-compensated head coaches?

What's the Problem?
The issue is this: teams with the final shot in a game -- in the first half too -- regularly run the clock down way too far before pressing the action for the last shot. They fear leaving time on the clock for the other team to respond, but that's irrelevant unless they score first.

Generally, teams dribble the clock down to about 8 seconds before beginning their play, an amount of time that is clearly insufficient. It leaves enough time for a rush to the basket and a shot -- nothing more. Invariably, a defender intercepts the attempt, leaving the offense without any real second option. Time after time you'll see the result is a bad shot that doesn't go in.

Teams need to start their rush with at least 12 seconds on the clock. This gives them time to go to a second option or get an offensive rebound and make a pass before another shot. If the play materializes quickly and they score in only a few seconds, the other team still only has 8 or 9 seconds to rush up the court and make a shot. In any case, that has to be a secondary consideration. 

Score first; defend second.

How It Plays Out
In Siena's and Kansas State's case, they made this mistake while behind. That's nuts! They needed to maximize their own ability to score, not worry about their opponent's possession.

So here's what happened: The point guard for the Saints, who were down two at the time, was stymied on his attempt to drive the lane, so he did the only thing available to him -- chucking up a 30-footer. Clang.

The Wildcats fared even worse. In a tight defensive struggle with the Mountaineers, Coach Bruce Weber allowed his team to dribble the clock down to 10 seconds before calling a time out. That left them about eight seconds to organize a play against a stout defense that easily cut off an attempted drive, resulting in a weak, off-balance shot as time expired.

The success rate on running the clock down below 10 is, in my viewing experience, about 8%. But no one seems to have learned the lesson. So it's going to happen again in another league tournament game. And then again in an NCAA tournament game. And then again. And again. What is going on with college basketball coaches?

86 the 96!

Been spending a lot of the last two weeks avoiding exposure to Winter Olympics coverage.  I can't stomach the needless nationalism that dominates our view of the Olympica, as if the ability of some 19-year-old from Vermont to ski down a hill fast demonstrates U.S. superiority over Sweden.

This time of year, I'm focused on pitchers and catchers, of course, and college hoops. The NCAA tournament -- and its lead-up -- are a particularly exciting time if you come from places like Albany, NY and Charleston, S.C., rooting for hometown teams like College of Charleston, Siena, Coastal Carolina, Cornell, and, for no apparent reason, Indiana University-Purdue University-Indianapolis, commonly known as IUPUI, which is pronounced "Oo-wee-poo-wee."

Gaining steam these days in college basketball circles is a horrifying idea. Jim Boeheim, the under-appreciated Syracuse coach, has been lobbying for several years to vastly expand the NCAA tournament to 96 teams. Boeheim wants to turn college basketball into the NBA or NHL, which is to say, make it totally irrelevant.

From a coach's perspective, this makes perfect short-term sense. He loves his kids, they work hard, they are among the best in the world, and he wants them to have an opportunity to dance at the big ball. (This year, of course, this isn't an issue for the Orange, who are #1 seed contenders. But his squad has come up short in recent years.) And Boeheim has the ear of the movers and shakers of NCAA basketball. This is worrisome, because Boeheim's proposal would literally ruin the game.

Imagine if every team that now plays in the NIT were to join the NCAA. Entire BCS conferences would pass into the tournament. Yawn. Say goodbye to the winner-take-all excitement of most league tournaments. ZZZzzzz. It would suck the prestige out of earning a berth for mid-majors and small conferences. Really, how special is a tournament invitation when a quarter of all teams get one? From the fans' perspective, it would destroy the regular season, render many conference tournaments lame and add nothing to the NCAA tournament.

All this is an object lesson for Major League Baseball. It must resist the misguided and nearsighted forces hankering for expanded playoffs and keep the regular season meaningful. It must maintain the credibility of a playoff spot, which could be sorely tested even with the current alignment if the AL Central delivers four .500 teams this year. It must maintain its slim purchase on the remaining sliver of integrity connected to the pennant race.

Bud, beware the Boeheims! 86 the 96!