When 7-foot-1-inch, 350-pound Shaquille O’Neal rumbled to the hoop with a full head of steam in the waning moments of the recent NBA All-Star Game, Jason Kidd was not about to get in his way.
Asked why he bailed out instead of taking a charge, the 6-4, 212-pound Kidd smiled and cited family reasons.
“I didn’t move just a little bit,” Kidd said. “I moved all the way out of the way. You’ve got to think about your family. I don’t know if Shaq has anti-lock brakes, but I was just going to get out of the way and see if we could score two points back on the other end.”
Taking a charge may be the single most underrated skill in basketball, but coaches applaud it and often consider the unselfish act a potential game-turning play.
“Taking a charge is a very inspiring play and very uplifting for a team,” said Denver Nuggets coach Jeff Bzdelik. “I always compliment my player publicly and in front of the team the day after they take a charge for positive reinforcement.”
Bzdelik has an assistant chart every charge and insists the numbers be published in the media notes. In designated games, Bzdelik has been known to offer his players $250 (taken from fines) for every charge they take.
Last season, then-Nuggets forward Juwan Howard finally took his first charge in a Feb. 2 home game. As he got up, Howard raised his finger in a No. 1 salute, drawing a raucous celebration from the Nuggets’ bench. That raised his $20.6 million salary another $250.
“It’s a fundamentally sound play, but more importantly, it’s a turnover for the opponent,” Bzdelik said. “It’s tangible evidence of guys willing to go the extra mile.”
While no one expected Kidd to give up his body in a meaningless All-Star exhibition, real games are a different matter.
“Even if our guy takes a hit in the restricted area and doesn’t get the call, that’s still positive for us,” said Heat assistant coach Erik Spoelstra. “It’s a cumulative effect that wears on players. After three quarters, a player starts to say, `I probably could take this in, but I’m just going to get knocked down.’
“Players on the bench get fired up and start pumping their fists. The most important thing about a charge is it charges the team up.”
Despite being razor-thin, Heat assistant coach Keith Askins was proud of his penchant for taking charges.
“That’s the ultimate rush as a defender to take a hit and sacrifice your body for the betterment of the team,” Askins said. “Now guys don’t take hits like they used to. They’re a bit more frail, like they’re playing in tutus.”
Many old-school coaches agree with Askins’ ballerina analogy. They believe that Kidd’s tongue-in-cheek response accurately depicts the bullfighter’s ole mentality of today’s players and their unwillingness to absorb some pain for the sake of the team.
“I was taught to stay between your man and the basket,” said Jazz coach Jerry Sloan, a four-time All-NBA defensive first-team player who had a knack for taking charges. “There’s no rule in the book that says you’ve got to get out of a guy’s way if he’s driving to the basket.
“I don’t think the players feel like there’s any reward in it and the league, in my opinion, makes it difficult for guys to draw fouls. People say he’s flopping, but how do they know the guy flopped?”
Along with anticipation, quick feet and courage, another element of selling the charge to an official is the ability to act. Coaches don’t put their charges through Lee Strasberg thespian classes, but they do go over certain sales ploys.
“Everybody has different breakdown drills. Some guys use the football pads [in practice] to take them that way and have to teach people how to fall,” said former coach-turned-TNT analyst Mike Fratello. “We talk about different techniques in the low post with guys pulling people down, guys breaking contact, letting people think they’re leaning on them and suddenly break away, so a guy travels with the ball.
“[Another method is] snapping their head back while taking the blow.”
While former Utah stars John Stockton and Karl Malone were skilled at drawing charges, Sacramento center Vlade Divac has taken more pratfalls than Chevy Chase and is considered the No. 1 flopper in the game.
“He’s got a lot of tricks and fakes and flops,” said Grizzlies center Lorenzen Wright. “The referee falls for that [routine], and I hate it. I hate actors because I can’t act.”
Former Heat coach Pat Riley, a marginal role player during his nine NBA seasons, had the kamikaze mentality a charge-taker must have.
“I could never guard anybody so I would just stand in front of them and have them run over me,” he said with a smile. “One time I realized I was taking my life into my own hands when I was a rookie with the San Diego Rockets and [255-pound] Wayne Embry saw me and said, `Oh, you want to take one?’
“He ran me over all the way into the stands, walked over and looked down at me and said, `You know, you’re foolish to do that.’
“I said, `I want a job.’ And I got the charge.”
