Editor’s note: This column was edited before the NBA announced it has suspended Draymond Green for Game 3 of the first-round series against the Kings on Thursday.
The NBA could use a villain — or three. That’s what the old heads want, right? And the fans who love old heads?
Draymond Green gave the league a bad guy Monday night in Sacramento. The problem is his team, the Golden State Warriors, aren’t long for these playoffs, and what good is an antagonist off the stage?
Green’s ejection from Game 2 of the Warriors first-round series with the Kings held the whiff of the Bad Boys’ end when they lost to the Chicago Bulls in 1991. I don’t recall any Piston stomping the chest of a fallen player, but the vibe of defiance felt similar, most memorably the Isiah Thomas-led walk off before the series-ending game finished.
By that era’s standards, Green’s stomping of Kings’ center Domantas Sabonis wouldn’t have led to an ejection, never mind a suspension; the NBA announced late Tuesday night Green will miss game 3 Thursday. Kevin McHale famously clotheslined Kurt Rambis in Game 4 of the 1984 Finals and was called for a common foul.
The Hall of Fame forward wasn’t even trying for the ball and said years later that his only regret was that it hadn’t been Magic Johnson or James Worthy he’d taken out of the air.
MORE FROM WINDSOR: Isiah Thomas defending legacy with a Bad Boy Pistons intensity, one tweet at a time
“It just happened to be Kurt Rambis,” he said. “I was just like, no layups. Whatever happens, there’s not going to be a layup.”
There are those among us who consider that era of NBA basketball the greatest ever played, partly for that reason. McHale’s intent wasn’t to hurt Rambis as much as it was to send a message. It worked, in part because he was the last Celtic anyone expected such violence from, and it fired up the rest of the team.
Green might like observers to think he was acting on behalf of his team when he stomped Sabonis, but in the moment it looked like frustration, as the young upstarts were getting the better of the defending champs for the second game in a row.
Officials halted play to review it; they slapped Sabonis with a technical foul for grabbing Green’s ankle as he tried to step away and ejected Green with a Flagrant-2 foul for the stomp.
While officials hovered around the courtside monitors, Green strutted toward his bench, made his way through assistant coaches and teammates, and motioned his hands toward the jeering crowd as if to say: “Come on! Bring it on!”
At one point, he stepped on the bench seats to get closer to the fans and holler some more. He was smiling, similar to the way he waved a towel and danced to the Memphis crowd a year ago in the playoffs during a blowout loss.
It’s hard to imagine Monday’s theatrics — and lack of remorse — didn’t sway the league. In its news release, NBA vice president of operations, Joe Dumars, announced the decision to suspend Green was based ”in part on Green’s history of unsportsmanlike acts.”
Golden State was leading its series when Green danced in Memphis last season. The Warriors won 4-2 and eventually the title. Perhaps he was trying to channel the same energy.
Green doubled down during his postgame news conference Monday by refusing to admit he stomped Sabonis.
“My leg got grabbed,” he said. “Second time in two nights. … I’ve got to land my foot somewhere. And I’m not the most flexible person so it’s not stretching that far. I can only step so far without pulling my leg away.”
Officials told Green he got ejected because the stomp was “too hard.” And it was.
Not only was it unnecessary, it’s costly. Green may not be the prime defensive menace and offensive orchestrator he was during his heyday, but he’s still critical to the Warriors system, on both ends.
Losing him for the final seven minutes hurt the Warriors. And though they may well have lost with him, that’s beside the point. In a four-point game Golden State desperately needed, one of its foundational pieces couldn’t help himself.
Instead of trying to get away as Sabonis grabbed his leg — he didn’t hold onto it for long — Green gathered himself long enough to raise his knee and jack his foot onto his chest.
If he’d let Sabonis’ dirty work go, his team would’ve had a free throw and the ball and his services and maybe a tied series. But then Green’s been out of sorts all season, by his own admission, through his own fault.
So, too, has his team. That’s Green’s doing as well, because he punched Jordan Poole in the face during practice in October.
Green has always played with an edge, going back to his Michigan State basketball days. Yet that edge isn’t all that’s made him so devastating on the court. His brain is just as lethal.
Few players of his era think the game the way he does. He sees things before they happen and that ability to anticipate has helped unlock the greatest shooting backcourt in history as well as one of the more unique defensive forces the game’s ever seen.
He obviously benefits playing alongside Stephen Curry and Klay Thompson. And their greatness gives cover to those who would diminish his importance to the team and to the game. That has always added to the chip on his shoulder.
This season, though, it’s gotten the best of him, and while the stakes aren’t quite as high as they were during past mental mishaps — most memorably when he swung toward LeBron James’ groin during Game 4 of the 2016 NBA Finals and got suspended the following game — his loss of control submarined the regular season and may have done the same for the postseason.
As for him egging on the crowd after the stomp?
“I was just having fun,” he said. “It was a fun game, fun atmosphere.”
No first-round atmosphere has been better, in fact, than the one Sacramento and Golden State created the first two games. So, sure, soak it up.
But this isn’t 1984, no matter how much some part of NBA fandom wishes it were. Players are expected to hold the darkest of their competitive impulses in check. You don’t answer a slap with a punch.
If someone grabs an ankle, do what is necessary to break loose and stumble on down the court. Green couldn’t, which is hardly surprising, no matter that his team is desperately trying to hold onto the last days of its dynasty.
He makes for a good villain, sure. And it’s good television, no doubt. But Monday night’s stomp wasn’t the action of an all-timer going down valiantly.
It was of a one-of-a-kind difference maker unable to control the parts of his basketball soul that have always made him different, a story that’s as old as time.
Contact Shawn Windsor: 313-222-6487 or swindsor@freepress.com. Follow him on Twitter @shawnwindsor.