Fighting For Their Playoff Lives

Lots of smacks and even more smack. We're not even through one round of the 2008 NBA Playoffs, and clearly this year's postseason has a much more heated and physical feel than we've seen in years. I'm sure Kurt Rambis and Bill Laimbeer would elbow out three of my teeth and shove me into the fourth row for even thinking of comparing this to the playoff slugfests of the '80s, but the trend is worth acknowledging. Why has this trademark of playoffs past returned so suddenly? Well, it depends on what city you're in.

The use of physical and even at times dirty play has different motivations for each team. I've broken down each playoff team's (even the eliminated ones) physicality level and what it tells me about where that team is at:

The Jordan Rules Division: Washington, Denver

This is the classic example of why teams become more physical in the playoffs. The kamikaze attempts by Kenyon Martin and DeShawn Stevenson/Brendan Haywood to derail Kobe and LeBron, respectively, were supposed to slow down opposing superstars in the same way Detroit tried to slow down Chicago by hammering Michael Jordan every time he went to the hoop. Haywood was 100% right when he said Jordan was beat up much harder than LeBron has been, but that's the point.

After the New York rugby Knicks of Pat Riley made the playoffs in the mid-'90s into Greco-Roman wrestling, the NBA slowly moved into an era where the rules would protect wing superstars from being assaulted driving to the hoop. Small changes like hand-check calls and larger changes like suspensions for any hint of fighting have made that transformation complete.

It's probably worth mentioning here those two team's records in these series as of Tuesday night: 1-7. In fact, if you've watched most of the Cleveland/Washington series, you noticed that the only game the Wizards won was the one where they lowered their physical play from thuggery to mere negligent roughness. The moral of the story? If your best defensive strategy is "two-handed shove the other team's best player on lay-ups," you're probably not winning that series this year. Maybe in 1988; not in 2008.

The Enforcers Division: L.A., Cleveland, San Antonio, Philly

These are the teams that aren't looking for a fight, but they'll take care of their business if they need to. Cleveland and L.A. do this mostly in defense of LeBron and Kobe (though not nearly enough, in my opinion). San Antonio and Philly are a slightly different story. They bring the nastiness at a much more covert level, but it's there. Isn't that right, Bruce Bowen? Chris Kaman, any comments on Reggie Evans' propensity to perform "gut checks" on the opposition (if you think that's not a plea for you to search YouTube for "Kaman Reggie Evans," then you need Internet lessons from Al Gore)?

Interestingly, take a look how these four are doing. Each of them won/is winning their series, except for Philly, who at least made Detroit sweat. Keeping the physical play under the radar has worked for these four.

The Rasheed Wallace Memorial "We Ain't Afraid of Them Cats" Division: Atlanta, New Orleans

This group honors 'Sheed's famous statement before the 2004 Finals when asked about the Pistons' outlook against the Lakers. They apparently were not scared. And by the looks of the first round, neither are Atlanta or New Orleans. David West made things clear by bizarrely but devastatingly touching Dirk Nowitzki's cheek, which seemed to drain the will from the entire Dallas roster (more on this below). I'd recommend that move to DeShawn Stevenson, but getting that close to LeBron's cheek would probably cause a riot in downtown Cleveland.

Atlanta also changed their round one fortunes with a key confrontation. When Al Horford barked down at a fallen Paul Pierce at the end of Game 3, I thought it was inviting a disaster. Instead, the move seemed to convince the young Hawks that they belonged on the court with the juggernaut Celtics. Of course, there's a fine line between this group and the Jordan Rules group. Let's say that if your rough play somehow leads to inviting Soulja Boy to watch a game courtside, you've probably gone too far.

The Big Brother Division: Boston, Detroit, Orlando

The top three teams in the East know better than to get too caught up in the playoff carnage. These guys defuse some of the chippiness with their mix of edgy and physically-imposing guys (K.G., Rasheed, Dwight Howard ... Brian Scalabrine). These teams are like older brothers being pestered by younger brothers. They'll put up with it for a bit, but when the time comes, they'll pop little bro' in the nose just to keep him in his place. Just watch Boston's Game 5 at home. You'll see.

The FIBA-Rules Charmin Double Ply Division: Toronto, Dallas, Phoenix

The Raptors are too young and too wiry to be physically imposing. They're just not built for that kind of game. The Mavericks epitomized how not to use the hard foul when Jason Kidd floored Jannero Pargo. Consider that the Mavs' last gasp for air. When a player like Kidd is taking cheap shots like that, consider the towel thrown in. Ironically, it took the acceptance of defeat for Dallas to actually commit that kind of foul. Had they been able to play with that kind of edge say, four games ago, things might have turned out differently.

Phoenix, meanwhile, doesn't seem to fit in the "soft" category on the surface, but consider the personnel a little closer. Steve Nash probably isn't going inside the UFC Octagon any time soon. Shaq wasn't much of a brawler even in his younger days, and Geriatric Shaq is even less. Playing physical defense, let alone hard fouls, from Amare Stoudemire would involve something other than a pick-and-roll resulting in a dunk, so he's out of the question. And Grant Hill is, well, Grant Hill. Just think about when Robert Horry hip-checked Nash into the scorer's table last year. The team's response to that was Amare wandering far enough off the bench to get suspended. That was it. Maybe Phoenix isn't soft, but they're definitely physicality-impaired.

The Nuclear Non-Proliferation Division: Houston, Utah

On paper, Utah should have made this series into a steel cage match. Look at the coaches: Rick Adelman, leader of such puff pastries as the early 2000s Kings, against Jerry Sloan, whose reputation for gritty, grinding teams is legendary. Even the roster breakdown seems like the Jazz should have been playing dirty here. Houston has a superstar in T-Mac just begging to be kneed, elbowed, and planted on the deck at every opportunity.

And yet somehow, someway, the Rockets and Jazz have had a relatively clean series. All playoff games ramp up the physical play, but in a postseason marked by hard fouls and trash talk, Houston and Utah have been very well behaved. The Jazz very easily could have employed the strategy that Washington and Denver used. The Lakers, Cavs, and Rockets all fit the profile of a superstar surrounded by supporting pieces (with the exception of Pau Gasol). Conventional wisdom (at least Chuck Daly's) would suggest that the superstar on each of those teams should be battered and bruised to reduce his effectiveness, and yet look at how this has turned out. By not making T-Mac the target of felony-caliber hacks, Utah has succeeded where the other bullies have failed.

So consider this, NBA coaches. Physical play is a good thing; just ask Dallas, Toronto, and Phoenix where they've ended up without it. But going overboard on the intimidation? Not such a good thing; see how it's taken on a life of its own in Washington. A moderate effort to keep the other guys uncomfortable seems to be the way to go.

The league will never return to the kind of brawls that went on between Detroit and Chicago or Los Angeles and Boston, but we can at least salute the return of a modified version. After all, this is a league where a star player missed a game because of a pedicure gone wrong. Sorry to remind you, Mr. Laimbeer.