NBA Idol: The Next Big Thing?

David Stern, I’ve got it! Eureka! Gadzooks!

I finally devised the perfect plan to get those NBA ratings sky high…and, no, cheerleaders are not (necessarily) involved.

Oh, be afraid, Commissioner Stern.

I see what the NBA’s been trying to do. You think projecting the NBA as a more “hip” league will put right the lackluster TV-audience ratings of the post-Jordan era.

You think half-time performances by popular singers and entertainers (well, let’s forget about the country music setback this All-Star weekend) will bring back viewers.

You think it’s good to fill League offices with pop superstars. Nelly is part owner of the new Charlotte Bobcats franchise which Bob Johnson, the founder of BET, bought. Usher has stakes in Cleveland. Jay-Z is bringing the Nets to his Brooklyn roots in a couple years.

Anyone who hasn’t seen an “I Love This Game” commercial on television is living under a cold, hard, granite rock. Multi-billionaire Donald Trump seems to love the NBA (and so should you because of all that money?). Paris Hilton, Jamie Foxx and Eva Longoria all get excited when that basketball acronym is spit in their direction.

This ad campaign – featuring popular and influential celebrities reading cards about what they love about the NBA – is fooling no one. Heck, let’s face it…the commercials suck! In the last couple years, ratings have taken off like a submarine.

Oh, and you HAVE to make sure every celebrity at the Staples Center gets air time. Like we don’t know famous people hang around Hollywood.

Sometimes you can’t always blaze the trail; you have to study other paths of success.

So here it is (drum rolling, lights dimming, music crescendoing to a Digital-Surround-sound epiphany): introduce to the world the NBA American Idol!!!

Complete in every arena would be an annoyingly critical English dude (Simon Cowell clone), a can’t-say-a-bad-thing-about-you, Nickelodeon's Kids Choice Hall of Famer (Paula Abdul clone), a (relatively) sane ex-producer (Randy Jackson clone) and a thirty-something with an America Top 40 voice host (Ryan Seacrest clone)!

Can’t you already see the ticket sales rising?

For the first time in its history, the NBA wouldn’t be charting untraveled ground. But who can really mess with the success of a program dubbed “The #1 Show in America” for the past four years?

Plus, it would appeal to your highly touted middle-aged demographic. Face it, making the game “hip” with Destiny’s Child at the All-Star game is not going to win over people like my Dad, who’ll still think Allen Iverson’s a punk, MVP or not.

Bringing back old players like the Iceman, Kareem Abdul-Jabar, Walt Frazier, Bill Russell, Moses Malone, Dave Cowens and Dr. J to parade the trophy around is not going to gain the NBA nostalgia points, either. As much as those players should still be a part of today’s game, they’re washed out. In their playing days, people watched them because they were something new; now, the only new addition is a head of gray hair.

American Idol is something new, something popular and – as evidenced by four seasons (!!!!) of top TV-ratings – it’s not going away anytime soon.

What the NBA really needs is some good ‘ole singing and a sense of audience importance. So here’s how American Idol can be adapted to the hardcourt…

Each team sends out a player to center court before every game. Both opponents are given microphones and played a track of their choosing (swear-free, of course). They then sing a 30-second verse and give it up to the other team.

The audience text messages its votes to stadium statisticians, and results will be tallied in a quick and timely fashion. Because the home player will almost always win the audience vote (no matter how terrible he sang), the three American Idol judge clones will each have a vote worth 25 percent of the total. The audience vote counts for the remaining 25 percent.

This process would occur at every jump ball situation and at the beginning of overtime periods. So, effectively, the jump ball would become obsolete.

Imagine this:

Amare Stoudemire and Yao Ming get caught up with a jump ball. There’s one minute left in the fourth quarter, two-point game.

The lights turn out completely except for two spotlights at center court. Ming steps into one light; Stoudemire under the other. The crowd goes crazy.

Ming announces he’ll start with a new joint by the Wu Tang Clan. Stoudemire counters with…Frank Sinatra? Who woulda guessed it?

Key moments could boil down to the most nerve racking competition of vocals since Bo Bice and Carrie Underwood.

Not only will this add an amusing musical aspect to the game, players will eat this idea up as well.

Can anyone imagine Ron Artest coming out with five-times as much passion and energy next year if this rule was in place? He would be running kamikaze all over the court for loose balls just for a chance to promote his new album a couple times a game.

People all across the country would know Artest’s music after he wins the MVP award for his hard effort. How’s that for redemption after getting slapped with the longest suspension in NBA history?

In tight situations, traditional bench warmers might become big-time clutch players because of their vocals. Who knows, Darko Milicic might have some use after all.

The NBA could produce an annual “best hits” album, complete with the most clutch songs, impassioned vocals and hilarious attempts at tone. The album could be as important as jersey sales and bigger than those annual Now albums.

Commissioner Stern, NBA American Idol would be an instant success. Forget about the lack of Magics, Birds and Jordans to advertise. Don’t worry if the score didn't hit 100 in seven Finals games. Who cares if Kobe Bryant and Kevin Garnett can’t lead their teams to the playoffs? Don’t worry if your game’s best player doesn’t even smile when he wins a third title.

A singing Tim Duncan is worth far more than the price of admission.