Basketball and Philosophy: Thinking Outside the Paint

The Beauty of the Game

THE BEAUTY OF THE GAME Peg Brand and Myles Brand “IT’S BEAUTIFUL, BABY!” yelled Dickie V, as the unheralded junior dunked over his opponent, drawing a foul and tying the score with six seconds remaining in the championship game. “And one!” “It wasn’t beautiful,” Billy said, struggling to be heard above the cheers of the crowd. “It wasn’t pretty at all, but it got the job done, and that’s all that counts.” The shooter bounced the ball, slowly and repeatedly, trying hard to loosen his limbs and lessen the stress that had fallen upon his shoulders. It was a hard foul. “He’s not the best free throw shooter on the team,” Billy said, with considerable understatement. Forty-five thousand fans shifted in their seats. The shooter knew what they were thinking, and he wanted to be responsible for the first and only loss of their opponent’s perfect season. Feeling all eyes upon him, he prepared to shoot. “Focus,” he thought, as the crowd hushed and he raised his arms. Game sweat glistened on his muscles, deepening the colors of a tattoo acquired together with his teammates, celebrating their win in last year’s Sweet Sixteen. Swoosh. “NBN, baby! Nothing but nylon!” Dickie yelled. “It’s not over yet,” Billy grumbled, adding in a greatly lowered voice, “And just what did you mean when you said his dunk was beautiful? It was accurate, sure. But beautiful? Did we actually see the same shot?” 95 The Beauty of the Game For several seconds, there was silence. Believe it or not, Dickie failed to respond. On-air time was ticking away. The television producer muttered to himself, “Talk, guys, talk!” He began to regret that Dickie had been hired as a guest commentator this year. The chemistry was all wrong. “What do you mean what did I mean? I meant the shot was beautiful ,” Dickie finally said. “The player is beautiful. It’s a beautiful game, baby. I oughta know! I’ve been doing this game since you were learning to dribble. . . . Hey, thirty-second timeout. What do you think the strategy will be, Billy?” “Well, Dick, I don’t think they’re planning any beautiful shots, if that’s what you’re asking. Having studied the philosophy of art, particularly the birth of modern aesthetics in the eighteenth century, I’m not so sure I’m willing to take the judgment of an ‘expert’ about what counts as beautiful. Why not just admit it was a successful shot, satisfactorily executed , and leave it at that?” The producer wished they had gone to a commercial. “What are you doing?!” he screamed into their earpieces. “Talk about the game, guys. Jim, cut in. Quick!” “Billy,” Jim interjected, “they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Who’s to say that Dick’s not right in his subjective response to what he saw on the court? He’s a man of taste; surely he knows that the pleasure he feels in watching such a shot merits the highest praise. On the other hand, I can also understand your point; it was an awkward, off-balance shot—anything but beautiful. And I’ll bet if we polled our television audience , nearly everyone would agree.” Panic was quickly setting in behind the camera as the opposing team prepared to inbound the ball. They needed a bucket to win, a free throw to send the game into overtime. The crowd cheered wildly; the roar was deafening. The announcers, however, were so intent on their discussion of beauty that they missed the final play. With additional seconds of dead air and the producer at his wits’ end, the instant replay appeared onscreen faster than lightning, prompting immediate comments about the missed shot and the fact that the game was over. Exhausted but animated, they agreed, in the end, that it had been a beautiful game. But now Jim wanted to know: What did they mean by that? 96 Peg Brand and Myles Brand Hume Drives the Lane Those in charge took a long commercial break—time to momentarily regroup—hoping that the postgame analysis would return to a focus on strategy, teamwork, and all the factors that led up to this unexpected result , this surprise ending. With a perfect record shattered, the year’s dream team fell short. Back on air, Jim was the first to speak. “Billy, Dick...