The Problem: If the NBA is a league of trends, then “flopping” is the Ed Hardy muscle tee; a showy, desperate attempt to prove what an ass you are in order to get a cheap score. In Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Quarters LeBron James flopped on a high screen from Tyson Chandler (see above). Even after getting a whistle, "The King" rambled about the court wincing in pain and holding his neck like a paparazzo who’d been nudged by an irritated Justin Bieber. It's a type of pathetic theater that makes dives in the Spanish Premier League look honorable by comparison. Growing up on Chicago's Southside, Dwyane Wade would've been shot if he was calling his own fouls after jumping into defenders he'd faked into the air. That's not a joke. You try that shit in a L.A. Fitness open gym, you'll get stomped out by a pack of weekend warriors and you absolutely deserve it.

What Needs To Be Recognized: In this case, the NBA doesn't have an officiating problem—it has a culture problem. On the offensive end, for some reason, it’s OK to scream to the rafters and stare down whatever Eastern European import you dunk over. But on the defensive end, six-foot-nine supposed hard-asses drop to the ground like they’ve fired a bazooka into a brick wall at point blank range. So, which is it? Is basketball an exhibition in Tarzan-like machismo or is it grown men falling to the hardwood like they’re trying to score settlement checks? Attention Ginobili, LeBron, and Pierce, maybe you’ll get a whistle, maybe you wont, but you will definitely look like a pussy. Just stop.