The NBA’s got a problem, a shade of gray that stretches from Houston on one end to Oakland on the other.
Somebody’s got to stop it before it spreads further and ruins the game.
But it’s headed that way. It’s becoming a sweaty theatrical presentation, an act, an episode of “As the Ball Turns,” starring James Harden, a game of deception and a whine-fest. It is an endeavor ever more like figure skating, gymnastics, synchronized swimming and diving. Winners in those sports are designated as such by evaluations from judges who assign numerical values to their performances,values that carom through those judges’ prisms and spill out onto a scorecard.