David Stern, that iconic sport executive “genius” of the NBA, continues to rework the reputation of pro-basketball.

NBA playas were all chained out–baggy pants hanging significantly south of waist and over sized tees accented by platinum chains. All bling, a la the most gansta of urban chic. It was good for the NBA–the younger, hipper pro sport. Ticket sales and TV ratings up, up, up!

We had athletes choking coaches, throwing naked wives into the snow, and punching fans in a stand-clearing brawl. People started getting uncomfortable with this marriage of elite hoop stars and the hood stars. Got the cool, but would this turn off the wealthy, white fans? Ratings and sales potentially down, down, down!

Solution? Make the ballers wear suits, and have Wayne Newton bring his geriatric Elvis, Mr. Vegas revival to the NBA All Star intro-show.

15 year-old: Who is that guy?
12 year-old: Is his face real? He looks like wax.
Me: Michael looks less real.
15 year-old: Was that guy famous? For what?
Me: (no answer)

Where was Beyonce and her girls remaking The Star Spangled Banner? John Legend jumping on his piano?

Not a way to attract fans for the future. And–much as I love Xtina–the music and show was old.

I came for the music, not the game. Boo!