I left Team USA's practice on Tuesday with one lingering thought: poor Angola. At the time, I didn't even know exactly where Angola was (it turns out it's just north of Namibia along the Rio Cunene, if that helps any). But here's what I already knew about the country: It has a basketball team that's going to get crushed mercilessly if it crosses paths with the Americans in Sydney.
So, I'm issuing this warning to the 12 Angolan hoopsters who will be representing their country at the 2000 Olympics: Don't cross paths with the Americans! You'll be lucky if you live to regret it (even without Charles Barkley playing this time).
I started feeling sorry for the Angola Dozen, partly because the team is so anonymous. So, I went on the Internet to find out what exactly makes these guys tick. Maybe I'd learn how often they practice or the name of their captain. But the search engine I used found no matches. When I searched for the Dream Team, hundreds of sites came up. Imagine, the Games haven't even started yet and the U.S. is already way ahead.
To make matters worse, I began thinking about the other countries which have no real chance of winning gold Down Under (in other words, all 11 of them). Poor Lithuania, which plays the mighty Americans at exactly 2:30 p.m. on Sept. 20. By my estimation, the game will be decided sometime between tip-off and 2:31.
Poor New Zealand and France -- they too have dates to appear before the firing squad. Even Japan, which didn't qualify for the Olympics, got to act like a punching bag during last night's friendly in Saitama. Though, I'm not sure why the game was billed as a "friendly." I've seen the scowl on Vince Carter's face when he jams over, around and through opponents and there's nothing "friendly" about it.
Make no mistake here, the Americans are bringing their game faces to Sydney. The past two Olympic Dream Teams won by an average of almost 38 points and more of the same is expected this time around. When games turn into routs, U.S. coach Rudy Tomjanovich may pull his starters and put in subs. Only one problem, Team USA doesn't have any subs. There are 12 starters; it's just that only five get to play at the same time.
No one at USA Basketball will admit it, but the Olympic tournament has become nothing more than a pre-scripted show ever since NBA players entered the picture eight years ago. The gold has already been gift-wrapped and post-marked. The Americans just have to stick around until the final buzzer of the last game before they can collect it. The only question left unanswered is who gets to lose in the final.
Is this really a good turn of events? After all, basketball is now the only sport at the Olympics that's over before it even starts. Every other gold is still up for grabs.
After Tuesday's practice, I wrestled with this issue over lunch. I concluded (at first) that using pros is good for the game. The only way other countries can become better is by playing against the best. Canada hopefully learned something from last week's thrashing by the Dream Team. Maybe Spain picked up a few pointers during Tuesday's whipping in Saitama. In time, these countries will narrow the great divide that exists in international basketball. It might not happen in my lifetime, but it's bound to happen eventually -- the world finally caught up to U.S. college players by the '88 Games.
Plus, the Americans shouldn't be punished just because they're so much better than everyone else. Denying NBAers the chance to represent their country and go for the gold simply wouldn't be fair.
However, by the time I moved on to dessert I had changed my mind. When the U.S. sent college kids to the Olympics before '92, the basketball tournament was intensely competitive. Watching young players like Michael Jordan (before he became Air Jordan) play on the international level was a genuine thrill. The U.S. still dominated back then, but winning the gold was never automatic and that's what kept us interested. Now we only watch to see high-flying, mystifying 360-degree slams over guys who spell their names without vowels.
So, here's a solution: Why not send a team of pro AND college players? After all, the U.S. used such a squad to qualify for the Olympics. A mixed team might still win by more points than the NASDAQ, but at least some games would remain interesting into the second half. At the '92 Olympics, Christian Laettner was the team's 12th man. The Duke forward carried Charles Barkley's bags for more minutes than he played, but he brought youth to a team stocked with too many veterans.
Five of Laettner's teammates returned to the Dream Team in '96 and that's another trend that needs revision. Once players get their gold, they should step aside and let other guys have the spotlight. This year's crop includes one repeat Olympic Dream Teamer (Gary Payton). At the very least, let's hope the 2004 team is composed of fresh faces.
Don't get me wrong; Dream Teams are still worth the price of admission. Heck, I'd pay just to see Kevin Garnett dunk donuts into his morning coffee. Maybe the Russians, Italians and Chinese feel the same way. During the past two Olympics, America's opponents asked for autographs before games and some even took pictures from the bench during them. Someday they'll show the photos to their grandkids and recall the times they dunked on the Americans (who really cares if it happened the other way around?).
Angola and Co. will play their hearts out in Sydney, but in reality they're playing nothing more than supporting roles in yet another formulaic sequel. Perhaps it's time we considered a new script.