Phoenix Suns
Hall of Famer
It’s time we finally stop overthinking the NBA tanking crisis
Source: https://www.brightsideofthesun.com/...les-mat-ishbia-competitive-integrity-analysis
CHICAGO - MAY 15: Kiki VanDeWeghe, Executive Vice President of Basketball Operations for the NBA, picks out a ping pong ball during the 2018 NBA Draft Lottery at the Palmer House Hotel on May 15, 2018 in Chicago Illinois. NOTE TO USER: User expressly acknowledges and agrees that, by downloading and/or using this photograph, user is consenting to the terms and conditions of the Getty Images License Agreement. Mandatory Copyright Notice: Copyright 2018 NBAE (Photo by Randy Belice/NBAE via Getty Images) | NBAE via Getty Images
There is one conversation dominating NBA headlines right now, and thankfully, the Phoenix Suns are nowhere near it. They are safely outside the noise for two very simple reasons.
First, this team is competitive. Not pretend competitive, not vibes competitive, but legitimately playing games that matter with a real path to the postseason. And maybe even a path that skips the Play-In entirely, which felt unrealistic when the season tipped off. They have surprised in a way that buys you meaningful basketball in April, and that alone changes the temperature around a franchise.
Second, the Suns are not part of this conversation because they do not have draft picks to weaponize. Whatever picks exist are tied to past decisions, past swings, past bets on players who are no longer here. You either compete or you waste a season, and Phoenix chose the former.
The conversation everyone else is having is tanking.
Players sitting in competitive games. Rotations are getting weird. Injuries are stretching a little longer than necessary. Entire franchises quietly shifting their posture from trying to win to trying to lose with purpose. It is one of those topics that lives perfectly in bar conversations or office debates, the kind where everyone suddenly has a solution. How do you fix tanking? How do you punish it? How do you make losing hurt more than winning helps?
I have heard plenty of ideas. Remove protections entirely. Create a tournament for the bottom teams where the prize is the top pick. Penalize teams financially the following season if they are clearly gaming the system. Some of them are creative. Some of them are fun.
None of them really move me. Okay, maybe the example above, because it incentivizes winning versus losing. But honestly? I do not care.
Tanking is almost unavoidable, and it is unavoidable for one very simple reason. The draft exists to distribute talent across the league. That is its purpose. If you are bad and you want to get better, the fastest and most realistic path is the draft. You add young talent. You hope it grows into something real. You hope it becomes a cornerstone. And the only way to consistently access the top tier of that talent pool is to be near the bottom.
Until the fundamental idea of what the draft represents changes, all the surface-level tweaks in the world are not going to solve much. You can shuffle odds. You can add incentives. You can dress it up in new language. Teams will still find a way to position themselves for the best chance at the best players. That is not corruption, it’s logic.
The Suns are fortunate to be operating in a different lane right now. They are chasing wins, not probabilities. They are playing games with consequence. And in a league where so many teams are already thinking about June, that is a place worth appreciating.
The Suns are not immune to this either, though. We lived it. We spent a decade squinting at injury reports, wondering what was really wrong with T.J. Warren’s neck, wondering why Devin Booker was sitting on a random March night when he looked perfectly fine two days earlier. We all knew the answer, even if we pretended we didn’t. The organization was trying to be less competitive at the end of the season in order to improve draft position. That was the plan, that was the play, and it was not unique to Phoenix.
This happens everywhere, across every major sport. In Major League Baseball, once a team realizes October is not happening, September turns into a parade of call-ups, auditions disguised as games, futures being prioritized over present results. Do you know how many fantasy baseball seasons have been derailed because I had a guy who launches dingers, but he’s on the Pirates or Rockies?! I’ve learned my lesson. Mostly.
In the NFL, the final two weeks for bad teams become a showcase for backups, not because coaches suddenly love depth charts, but because organizations are protecting assets and thinking long term. Nobody loses their mind over it. It is understood as part of the ecosystem.
So why does the NBA always catch the heat?
It starts with timing. The spotlight is brightest on the league right when tanking becomes most visible. Football is finished. Baseball has not started. The NBA owns February and March. And because of how the season is structured, because of the sheer number of games and when the calendar flips, teams often know by that point that the postseason is not in their future. When that realization sets in, priorities shift. Development matters more. Health matters more. Next year starts creeping into the room.
That is also the exact moment when casual fans and national voices start paying closer attention. And what they see is a diminished product. Players are sitting, rotations are changing, and outcomes feel preordained. The league does not condone it publicly, but it has also done a poor job of managing the optics. Whether that comes down to an 82-game season, the calendar start, or the way incentives are aligned, the result is always the same. Right when the NBA has the stage to itself, the cracks become visible.
And then we do the dance. Same cycle every year. Same outrage. Same proposals. Same debates on how to fix something that is not really broken, it is functioning exactly as designed.
In my opinion, there is no true fix. Not without fundamentally changing what the draft represents and why teams value it. Until that happens, this will keep looping, season after season, argument after argument, while the teams that have something to play for keep playing and the rest start quietly looking ahead.
Teams are always going to prioritize long-term possibilities over short-term competitiveness, especially when the math tells them that sacrificing now gives them a better chance to be something later. That part is inevitable. My real issue with tanking has always lived in one place, and that place is the fans, because they are the ones who ultimately pay the price. Literally.
If you are a season ticket holder and your team tanks one year in an effort to secure a better draft pick, then comes back the next season and still isn’t any good, there is no refund waiting for you. The league is not cutting you a check. The team is not knocking 20% off your invoice because they decided to roll out a lineup full of G League-level talent while preaching patience and development. You paid full price for a diminished product, and that is the part of this equation that never really gets discussed. Or at least not enough.
That is why tanking feels unfortunate, even when you understand it. On the surface, the logic tracks. If you are bad and you want a chance to stop being bad, you often have to lean into being bad long enough to draft someone who can change your trajectory. It is the natural order of how this league is built. You can workshop a million ideas on how to fix it, flatten the lottery odds, create tournaments, punish cap sheets, tweak incentives, but someone will always find the seam. Someone will always locate the weakness and exploit it, because that is human nature.
I have seen this play out countless times outside of sports. In the hospitality world, I cannot tell you how many processes I have helped put in place, well-intentioned, thoughtful, designed to create fairness, only to watch guests immediately search for ways around them. Everybody loves rules in theory. Everybody supports structure and order right up until it inconveniences them personally. Then it becomes negotiable.
That is the space tanking lives in. It makes sense from the top down. It is defensible from an organizational standpoint. But from the seat in the arena, from the fan who keeps showing up, keeps paying, keeps caring, it feels like a tax with no return policy. And that is the part that will always sit a little sideways with me, no matter how logical the strategy might be.
But again, it is the fan, the person who simply wants to enjoy the product, who ultimately pays the price. And in my opinion, that is the one place where there is an actual fix, even if it is the hardest one to pull off.
Teams and organizations are businesses. Full stop. They exist to make money, just like any other business. And this is where short-term greed starts tripping over long-term greed. The short-term play is obvious. Maximize revenue, fill out the balance sheet. Walk into the boardroom and say, “Look, we might be bad on the court, but the numbers still look good”. Tickets sold. Sponsorships intact. Revenue streams humming along.
But if you actually want loyalty, real loyalty, not the fragile kind that disappears the moment expectations aren’t met, you give something back. You refund a prorated portion of season tickets during a tanking year. You lower prices so the building stays full even when the wins aren’t coming. You admit what the season is, instead of selling hope as a finished product. And the byproduct of that honesty is still revenue. People show up. They buy food. They buy drinks. They buy merchandise. They bring their kids. They stay emotionally invested instead of feeling taken advantage of.
That is where it gets interesting with the Phoenix Suns, if and when a tanking season ever arrives. A real one. One where they actually control their first round pick and decide that short-term pain is necessary to reset the trajectory of the franchise.
Because what Mat Ishbia has shown in a very short amount of time is that he cares about the fan experience. He cares about access. He cares about the relationship between the team and the community. And he has proven he is not afraid to do things that go against the grain. We have seen it with the value menu. We have seen it with free local broadcasts. We have literally seen him buy antennas so fans can watch games. That is not normal ownership behavior. That is someone who understands that if you make fans feel included in the process, the long-term payoff is far greater than squeezing every last dollar out of a down year.
So if the Suns ever reach a point where tanking becomes the path forward, Ishbia would have a rare opportunity. He could be a trendsetter. He could be the owner who says, “This season didn’t meet the standard, and we’re not going to ask you to pay full freight for something we know isn’t complete yet. We’re going to eat some of that cost, not you”. And in doing so, he would likely gain a level of trust that most franchises never touch.
Because if you want a fan base to understand a tank, to actually get behind it instead of resenting it, that is how you do it. Until something like that happens, tanking will always exist. These conversations will keep cycling. The league will keep pretending there is a fix just around the corner. And the truth will remain the same as it has always been.
Until someone gives back some money, which I think we all know will never happen, we’ll continue to have these circular conversations until the playoffs start. And then? No one gives a shit until next Febraury.
Source: https://www.brightsideofthesun.com/...les-mat-ishbia-competitive-integrity-analysis
