How TNT’s Inside The NBA Crew Missed the Warriors vs. Rockets Meltdown | Deadspin.com

Some people are never satisfied.

You win a championship, yet feel the need to add baseball’s best pitcher.

You have cars lined up around the block, yet you decide adding McRib to the menu will silence the horns.

You have the best programming in the history of basketball, yet some buffoon recommends changes.

Uh, that latter guy is me … Buffoon with a capital B.

The “NBA on TNT” pre- and (especially) post-game shows have been a godsend to basketball and comedy fans alike. (Insert your Washington Wizards jokes here.)

Ernie Johnson is a masterful juggler. Kenny Smith can be Captain Obvious, but in a useful way in that it serves lollipops to Charles Barkley, a big eater who swings for the fences and hates curve balls. And Shaquille O’Neal… as the NFL is starting to figure out, every primetime show needs a cartoon character.

It’s equally entertaining and give-me-something-to-throw-at-the-TV. You know, kinda like the Baltimore Ravens.

But these award-winning performances lack something… and that something was on full display (or perhaps better stated: not on display at all) following Wednesday’s crazy finish between the Warriors and Rockets.

Sir Charles, as usual, offered strong opinions, some on things that never happened. Ernie and Kenny scratched their heads—wondering, “Were you paying attention, Chuck?”—and” offered little else. And Shaq was… well, remember: Snoopy can’t talk.

Serious fans wanted to know what just happened and why it shouldn’t have happened. Much of it involved game strategies, something of which the Unfit Foursome has left to smarter people than themselves in their careers.

What the show needed was Pat Riley or Rick Pitino. A Hall of Famer with the guts to go public with a former colleague’s screw-ups.

Phil Jackson with a personality. George Karl or Don Nelson in their feuding days.

Someone who would receive the “Ten Good Things To Say About The NBA Cup” memo and relegate it to the same circular file as the “How To Promote Jayson Tatum For MVP” dictum the league put out earlier.

You know, like Mike Brown after he turns bitter following his pending firing.

Throw Brown onto Wednesday’s late-night postgame show, and here’s what a truly award-winning telecast might have sounded like …

The Rockets have the ball, down three, with 32.1 seconds to go. Steve Kerr inserts Kevon Looney into the game for defense. Alperen Sengun overpowers the undersized Looney for a layup 5.1 seconds later.

Ernie: Powerful move.

Shaq: He reminds me of Tim Duncan.

Brown: Why in the world is Steve putting Looney in the game? Draymond Green is manhandling Sengun. Plus, if you lock down the perimeter and get 8.1 seconds to run off the clock without allowing a 3-pointer … Even if you give up a layup, the Rockets then have to foul, and you have the best foul shooter in NBA history. Game over.

The Warriors have the ball, up one, with 27.0 seconds to go. With still 11 seconds left (eight seconds on the 24-second clock), Stephen Curry attempts a night-night 3-pointer. It misses.

Chuck: Curry cost them the game. You can’t shoot that early. There’s only three seconds left if you wait until the end of the shot clock before shooting. He played hero ball.

Brown: Been in this situation a million times, Chuck. Steve doesn’t have you in your prime. If he did, he’d throw it to you, you’d stick your oversized rear bumper into the defender and back him into the first row before dropping in a layup with 3.1 seconds left. But he’s got Curry. The 2024 Clutch Player of the Year. You have to trust that he’ll get a good shot, which he did. He makes that shot, they win. Too many coaches turn conservative at critical moments like that. That’s usually not like you, Chuck. A good shot at any point trumps a bad shot after 24 seconds. It’s called playing to win. Chuck, you ever heard of Dan Campbell?

Curry’s miss deflects toward the sideline. Teammate Gary Payton II dives on it as Fred VanVleet piles on. There’s only 8.1 seconds left.

Chuck: VanVleet jumped on his back. Where’s the foul call?

Brown: You’re missing the point, Chuck. Where’s the timeout? Look at the top of the screen: Steve is three steps onto the court. What, he needs a better view? Call a damn timeout. Scream it. Any elementary school coach can tell you that. Your guy is on the floor. You think what happens next is going to be a good thing? He calls a timeout there; they win.

From his stomach and with 200 pounds on his back, Payton tries to pass the ball to Jonathan Kuminga. Aaron Rodgers has thrown better 15-hoppers this season. It goes right to Houston’s prone Jalen Green, who in turn gets the same treatment VanVleet gave Payton. Alertly amid the chaos, Dillon Brooks signals for a timeout. The two closest refs look at each other: Is it a timeout or a jump ball? Then the crew chief butts in. He’s calling a foul on Kuminga with 3.1 seconds left. Green will be sent to the line for two game-winning free throws.

Kenny: It does look like Kuminga fouled him, but you can’t call that there.

Chuck: Kerr should have challenged.

Ernie: Kerr said he thought he’d lose the challenge and didn’t want to risk his final timeout.

Brown: You have to challenge there. Look, Billy Kennedy is a good referee. Get the glare of the red court out of his eyes, and he’ll realize he made a mistake. When he looks at the monitor with cooler heads in Secaucus in his ear, he’ll see: I can’t NOT call a foul on VanVleet, then call one on Kuminga. We can pretend to have seen the timeout signal from Brooks BEFORE the foul. It’ll be an easy sell on both teams. Let the players decide the outcome; that’s what a good ref does. I learned that in elementary school.

Instead, the Rockets went to Vegas this weekend. So did Ernie, Kenny, Chuck and Snoopy, er, Shaq.

Wonder what Don Nelson is doing.