NBA Investigates Kings For Tanking, Determines That They’re Just Ass

As the back end of the NBA season mercifully burns to ash, there are still a few oblong aesthetic joys to be found. Thursday night's action featured son-to-father and father-to-son assists, the hilarious spectacle of Josh Hart and Baylor Scheierman going bomb for bomb in Madison Square Garden, and the Nets losing on purpose by 29 on Fan Appreciation Night in a game, featuring a bunch of guys I'd never heard of and also this couple on the Jumbotron. Many of the contests involve at least one party trying to lose, whether for draft position or seeding reasons, which does not lead to what most people would call nice-looking hoops, though I find a something strangely beautiful in watching, say, Bez Mbeng spend all 48 minutes running pick-and-roll for the Jazz.

This brings us to the exception to this rule: the Sacramento Kings. While fellow tanking teams like the Utah Jazz are adopting the Mbeng Doctrine, no one in Sacramento seems totally aware that the Kings are eliminated from play-in contention. They held a multi-game "lead" for worst record in the NBA one month ago, and they have "slipped" to fifth thanks largely to a quixotic effort to help DeMar DeRozan climb up the NBA's all-time scoring list. In the process, the Kings are showing that, done well, tanking is not the simple, brainless practice many assume it is. It takes a certain degree of organizational alignment—from ownership through management, down to the coaching staff and thereby out onto the court—in order to, respectively: be fine with losing 10 games in a row by playing Bez Mbeng 48 minutes; sign Bez Mbeng to play 48 minutes; have 48 minutes to give Bez Mbeng, without having to invent an obviously fake injury to a disgruntled superstar; and simply roll the ball out there and say Bez, it's time to cook , again, for 48 minutes.

The Kings are not doing any of that, because they are a stupid organization run by penny-pinching owner Vivek Ranadivé, seemingly unaware that, instead of inventing everything from first principles, he can observe more competent NBA organizations (read: any of them) and learn from what they are doing. There is no alignment and no vision. I have enjoyed watching Maxime Raynaud flip-shot his way onto one of the All-Rookie teams and Dylan Cardwell chart new frontiers in the fields of offensive rebounding and offensive fouling, but this is pretty clearly a team that doesn't know how to lose (or to win, or to win by losing). Shutting down Zach LaVine, Keegan Murray, and Domantas Sabonis was a nice start, but nobody involved seemed to think it would take more than that. When competing against well-run organizations like the Jazz or the Indiana Pacers, you have to be ready for something like the Killian Hayes renaissance.