NBA Referee Hotline Bling: LeBron calls out the officials
The new CBA means a new hotline where players can call to complain about NBA referees. They can ask questions, blow off steam, and figure out carpools to Seacaucus. It's like calling the time lady, if she knew all about the hand check rule. Each week, we’ll present a look at the hotline’s responses, which are about as real as the Suns' desire to win games after January. We know when that hotline blings, that can only mean one thing: an NBA player is unhappy about the service he's getting.
LeBron James vs. Paul Millsap
Dear Mr. James,
We’ve reviewed the tape of your sixth foul in the game against Atlanta. It’s a close call, but you did make contact with Mr. Millsap on the rebound. We do understand that “But I’m LeBron James!” is traditionally a successful argument with league officials; however it is not technically an NBA rule.
You also raised valid points regarding a jump ball with Mr. Millsap’s foot out of bounds, and another call in overtime where Mr. Millsap drew a charge against Kyrie Irving while moving. Those calls could have gone your way. And you raised invalid points about a five-second call when you didn’t even attempt to throw the ball in, yet blamed the referee. Perhaps this is not the portion of game film you should be reviewing?
Atlanta came back from 26 points down in the 4th quarter, behind Mikes Muscala and Dunleavy. Friday, they beat you in Cleveland, while all their starters sat. Perhaps instead of analyzing tape of an over-the-back call, you should watch Deron Williams go over-and-back the half-court line after walking the ball up. Instead of whining about charge calls, try charging back on transition defense. Maybe Paul Millsap should have gotten a blocking foul, but that doesn’t explain the entire Cavs defense parting like the Red Sea to let Tim Hardaway, Jr. dunk.
Mr. James, much like Mr. Millsap & Mr. Bazemore’s feet on that jump ball, you are out of bounds right now. And like the mediocre team that knocked you out of the #1 seed last night, the majority of your complaints are Bull.
Chidingly yours, NBA Referee Hotline
Mike Conley vs. Kawhi Leonard
Dear Mr. Conley,
We regret that you were called for an offensive foul on the play where your head-to-head collision caused you to get 13 stitches. From the video, the contact looked clearly inadvertent, and there may have been some bruising due to the muscular strength of Mr. Leonard’s hair. It’s fortunate you didn’t run into his massive, cement-like hand, which is even more solid than his skull.
However, by calling the referee hotline, you are technically snitching on Mr. Leonard. And as you know, snitches get stitches. Perhaps since you already have so many stitches, you feel like you are snitching with house money! Or, since you play alongside Zach Randolph, you correctly feel safe. But be careful! You have to stop breaking your face in April every year! As such, we will be assigning you Rip Hamilton and Bill Laimbeer as bodyguards as part of the league’s Cheekbone Relocation Program.
Cheekily yours, NBA Referee Hotline
Brook Lopez vs. Despair
Dear Mr. Lopez,
Congratulations on becoming the Nets’ all-time leading scorer! However, we were confused about your call. It was a string of grunts, a yelp of “Shut UP Robin!” and then a strangled “Why ME?” followed by thirty seconds of sobbing. Then we heard what sounded like the Frozen soundtrack and you hung up. Are you OK? Please don’t do anything rash like taking your brother to underground mascot fights or following Jeremy Lin to his barber.
It seems like it would be an honor to lead an organization in scoring, but maybe not if it’s the Nets. The pride in scoring 10,000 points coincides with the realization you’ve spent nine entire years playing for the Nets. Nine years of winning 29 games a year, which means losing 53 games a year. It’s playing in East Rutherford and Newark, watching your GM make trades like the Damian Lillard pick for 30-year-old Gerald Wallace, Vince Carter and Ryan Anderson for Courtney Lee, or four first-round picks, a first-born son, and the right of prima nocta for all Nets employees’ marriages, all for a year of Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett.
Being the Nets’ career scoring leader is winning a lifetime achievement award in prison, being the longest-tenured drummer in Creed, or getting your photo on the wall of the Trump Grill because you eat there every day. If it’s any consolation, your contract is very tradeable, and at least you’re only second on the games played list.
Consolingly yours,
NBA Referee Hotline
Metta World Peace vs. the Palace at Auburn Hills
Dear Mr. World Peace,
We were going to reprimand you for sneaking into the Palace at Auburn Hills after its final game. The Pistons are moving downtown next season, so throwing a soda onto the scorer’s table felt like an immature decision, but it was ultimately harmless.
What was not harmless was your 12-minute freestyle about it on this hotline. Mr. World Peace, we are inclined to asses another full-season suspension if an NBA official ever has to hear your awkward rhymes, your sing-song flow, or your wackass beats. We feel like we’ve been punched in the eardrums. We’d rather run full speed at Jermaine O’Neal’s fist and fight a dustpan-wielding Jamaal Tinsley than hear you try to rhyme “Ben Wallace” with “take solace.”
Lose this number, and the keys to your recording studio. Namaste.
Peacefully yours, NBA Referee Hotline
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