THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, February 26, 1995 TAG: 9502260158
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C3 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BOB MOLINARO
LENGTH: Medium: 66 lines
What is rarer in college basketball than a biceps left unmarked by a tattoo, or a pair of shorts that do not need cuffing?
Give up?
A three-second violation.
I was tuned into a game recently when, to my amazement, a large undergraduate was whistled for putting down roots in the lane.
The players all stopped and stared at the official, as if they couldn't figure out what was going on.
It's no wonder. In '90s-style college basketball, a three-second violation is called about as often as an All-American is offered a Rhodes scholarship.
Most likely, that three-second call will be the last I'll witness this season. It probably satisfied the 1995 collegiate three-second violations quota, which I believe is nine.
It's a quaint notion, the three-second call, but as far as I can tell, the rule is still on the books.
It's still a violation for an offensive player to loiter in the lane, just as it remains a violation for a player to drag his pivot foot or switch pivot feet without dribbling, or take an extra step on his way to the hoop.
Not that you'd ever guess from watching college basketball.
Today's stars can talk the talk, but when they walk the walk, very often they are, well, walking. Or traveling, as it's usually called.
Is traveling ever called in games? Sometimes.
More often, it's chalked up as just another great move. As more fodder for the late-night highlight reels.
Fair enough. What is college basketball if not cheap entertainment for cable-ready America?
But as you celebrate the athleticism and creativity of today's players, take into account the things these kids can get away with that their predecessors couldn't before the NBA became the model for style.
I've got to assume that college officials still recognize a sliding pivot foot when they see one. That they hear traveling music when a player takes three steps before jamming the ball.
I suppose, then, that they swallow their whistles so as not to interfere with the flow of the game. It's the job of the TV timeouts to interfere with the flow of the game.
Nobody wants to take the sport backward. If you go against the flow, next thing you know, college basketball will reintroduce players who can actually hit jump shots.
Still, the fogey in me notices things.
Players who receive passes just inside the 3-point arc have developed a little hopping move that takes them to the other side of the line without benefit of a dribble. That way, they are in better position to shoot the trey. It's clearly traveling. Just as clearly, the officials won't call it.
I'm not sure when this practice started, but suddenly, everybody is Gene Kelly in hightops, tap-dancing on the rule book.
Another obvious liberty afforded today's player is the freedom of the dribbler to carry the basketball.
``Palming'' is now a fully sanctioned practice. Every college point guard worth his tattoo cups a hand under the ball, cradling it as he moves around the court.
The '90s game, quicker and probably better than ever, shows a youthful disregard for the way things used to be.
Purists beware. by CNB