Wishing for the Day the Music Dies at NBA Arenas
By Cecilio's Scribe on Jan 26, 2008 with Comments 1
Since When Did These Guys Become an NBA Arena Staple?
This is my random weekend rant if you couldn’t tell already. It’s one of those things that’s always been there but for some reason has only struck me of late. And now I can’t get it out of my head. Whether you’re in an NBA arena, or watching the action on TV, see how long you can count without hearing some brain-cluttering noise kicked in from the arena PA. It’s absurd.
Now, granted we understand that teams are looking to fire up the fans, make their arenas loud and intimidating for opposing players and what-not. And, sure, it might be a little quiet when the speakers are turned off. But when did DJs become necessary in professional basketball? Would it be the worst thing ever for fans to hear the sounds of squeaking shoes? Maybe a coach barking out a play? Or, dare we say, some naturally-generated fan noise?
It’s bad enough we are deemed dumb enough to need constant cues to chant “de-fense” or “charge!” every three minutes. But the good ole organ has a place in sports. But in between we now have to listen to 50 Cent and Paul Oakenfold? Don’t get me wrong, I like the music. On my iPod. In my own ears.
Do you see this in football? Baseball? Hockey? We’re OK with some Hells Bells before a big third down play at the Meadowlands. I’m even alright with the whole Final Countdown thing in the last few minutes of a tight game at the Garden. But this incessant, mind-numbing noise artificially pumped into NBA arenas has got to go.
And that’s all I have to say about that. So, how’s that for a random Saturday rant? Yes, we are entering that slow time in the world of sports. We’re trying to battle through. Stick it out with us.
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About the Author: Cecilio's Scribe is the founder of The Legend of Cecilio Guante and a generally pessimistic fan of the Mets, Jets, Knicks and Rangers. A fine NYC-based gentlemen who hones his marketing skills as his primary trade by day. Husband, chef, father of a newborn and after-hours blogger by night. Proud alum of the mighty Big Red of Cornell. University. Hot sauce devotee. Staunch protester of the continued wussifcation of American sports. Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick.


I am glad you mentioned this one. On top of the DJ at the Q in Cleveland, we ripped off Detroit and hired a “Hype Man.” This dude runs around to different parts of the arena with a wireless mic basically just yelling at me to “Get Up!” all the time. My dad and I went to a game last year and just gave up on conversing during timeouts and in between quarters, let alone trying to discuss the plays as they were happening.
Thank goodness for HD broadcasts because they give me a reason to stay home to watch games.