How to know when to stop scoring

I once asked one of my favorite coaches why he kept pouring it on when his opponent was clearly beaten. “Son,” he said, “I can't coach both teams.”

That was Bobby Bowden, a football coach, but his logic applies to basketball as well, and if Bulls coach Billy Donovan is miffed at the Celtics or any other team for not standing around waiting for the clock to run out, he should coach better and his team should play better. And someone should teach Andre Drummond how to shoot free throws.

Playing to the end of the clock seems not too much to ask, not in sports that have a clock. Baseball, more and more occupied with time these days, continues until each team has had an equal chance, although throwing in first basemen or catchers to pitch in a rout is sort of the same kind of insult.

That extra innings ghost runner on second base is the worst gimmick since the designated hitter, but that's another column, one for sunnier days and warmer weather.

Sportsmanship, huh? That's what this is all about, and I think we can all agree that sportsmanship is worthy, and I would start with barring all those choreographed touchdown pantomimes. What was it Walter Payton said about antics in the end zone? Act like you've been there before.

And by the way, nothing is more rude than a quarterback in “victory” formation, kneeling with the football. Might as well stick his tongue out at the same time. Calling time out to freeze the kicker or the free-throw shooter is always tacky.

Gamesmanship and sportsmanship have never had a hand-holding relationship. Athletes, and fans, too, know what the unwritten rules are. You don't bunt to break up a no-hitter. You don't walk across a partner's putting line. You don't steal signs, yet the Houston Astros and Michigan Wolverines have yet to apologize.

Look at the commotion caused when one quarterback decided to kneel instead of standing for the national anthem.

Let's review here. The NBA's concern that no one cares about basketball until there is no more football prompted a dip into soccer — not the first place to look for an answer — where tournaments are played during the regular season, proving nothing but are generally tolerated and cause undetermined excitement.

So why not, say, have a concurrent tournament during the NBA season where fans can root for their team to distinguish itself without understanding how or why so that Las Vegas—where the point-spread lives in luxury — gets another kiss on the mouth.

If this all seems confusing, just remember that the NBA's purpose was not to confound but to expound. That's as much of an explanation as I have about why those newly designed playing floors and separate slate of standings have been hanging around.

None of this has meant much to the Bulls, sort of the poster-whiners of the enterprise who need no new reason to lose. So when DeMar DeRozan flips because a Toronto Raptor is shooting a 3 with the clock shot off, honor and respect have found a true believer.

“I don't care about no in-season tournament points,” DeRozan reportedly said, knowing what he knows and what he knows is respect is more important than stunts.

Now, if the Bulls were among the final mix with a half million dollars awaiting each player, maybe they might feel differently but the NBA has put a price on honor, not that much really, considering NBA wages these days.

Point spreads are the most basic of gambling dodges. Scandals erupt from time to time over shaving or padding, and yet the NBA chose to make the point-spread second only to winning as a judge of a team's worth. Poll takers and gamblers have known that forever, of course; the NBA just made it official.

Running up the score is not only officially sanctioned, but commanded.

I am reminded of the reported response of Woody Hayes, another football tyrant, when asked why he went for 2 points when he had a 36-point lead over Michigan in the fourth quarter. He said, “Because I could not go for 3.”

It always made sense to me.