Clockworked

It's basketball state finals week in Indiana again, and you know what that means.

No, not, "Great, more snow."

No, not, "Nobody cares about high school basketball in Indiana anymore, even though scads of people still keep showing up at the games and the last time I covered a semistate, there was a traffic jam in Huntington."

(This is true. The last time I covered a semistate, four or so years ago, it was at Huntington North. I sat in the left turn lane at the intersection of US 24 and SR 5 for, like, an hour. And the gym was so full they were bribing the fire marshals).

Anyway, what that means is the eight state finals coaches gathered Monday in Indy for the traditional presser, and the latest topic du jour in Indiana high school basketball came up -- i.e., should the IHSAA adopt a shot clock?

Almost all the state finals coaches were either in favor of it, or not opposed. This should not have been all that shocking, because their teams were in the state finals. Which means they're all really good, and it's the really good teams who stand to benefit most from a shot clock.

This is the best argument the Blob can think of for the IHSAA not instituting a shot clock, aside from the cost to already-strapped school systems and the fact it's a cure in search of an illness. Truth is, in probably 99 percent of high school games played each winter in Indiana, a shot clock would rarely come into play. And in the 1 percent where it does?

Well. Let me ask you a question.

What's possibly the most iconic image in the history of Indiana high school basketball?

Thaaat's right: Bobby Plump standing there with the ball under his arm for one, two, three, four minutes against Muncie Central while his coach, Marvin Wood, tried to think of something to do.

A shot clock would have erased that image, and likely Milan's upset-but-not-really of Muncie Central, and years later there would never have been a Jimmy Chitwood. And the central pillar upon which the single-class diehards have always built their argument never would have existed.

Look. I get it. No one goes to a high school basketball game to see one guy hold the basketball under his arm for quarters at a time. I know this because I covered the epic (or not) 16-14 sectional game between Norwell and Wayne a few years back. It was probably the shortest high school game I ever covered because there were almost no stoppages in play. That might have been the only upside for a guy on deadline.

Although ...

Although, it was a lot less boring to watch than it sounds. You kept waiting for one team or the other to come out and extend its defense, and then to see how the team holding the ball would react. I can't say it was the most exciting game I've covered, but it might have been the most fascinating from a strategy standpoint.

It's also a way for an overmatched team to stay in a game. And that's not a bad thing.

Even hacked up into four classes, there remain monumental mismatches in Indiana's high school tournament, particularly at the sectional level. Institute a shot clock, and those mismatches would not only mestastasize, they would rise to the level of farce. Would more 72-33 blowouts improve the quality of the tournament?

No, they would not. And so when School X draws School Ridiculously-Better-Than-X in the sectional, a shot clock would overwhelmingly favor the latter. In other words, the overwhelming favorite would be an even more overwhelming favorite.

And who wants to see that, unless your kid plays for School Ridiculously-Better-Than-X?

Not me. I want to see the underdog get to play the only chip in its pile and slow it down. Maybe it'll work. Probably it won't. But the underdog should at least have that option.

That's not too much to ask, is it?