Listen Up, the Miking Can Make a Difference

After the Lakers lost to the Portland Trail Blazers, Coach Phil Jackson pretty much laid it off on the referees, saying they were miked for the game which changes the way officials do their jobs.

Now that’s interesting. Imagine if you were miked all day at work, would you act differently?

You’d have to be on your guard, and that would make you uptight. But you also might get so involved in your work, you’d forget you were miked, and suddenly you’d be muttering what a big-old nincompoop your boss is--something everybody at this establishment does--and you’d be the one who gets caught electronically.

I guess being miked would make you more careful about calling Sports Editor Bill Dwyre names.

Not to be technical--although it’s something Tex Winter, Ron Harper and Isaiah Rider could relate to--let me just say this while I have the microphone--so to speak--I would never call Dwyre a big-old nincompoop like everybody else in the department. That’s not my nickname for him.

But for the sake of argument, imagine you were miked all day--and knowing this--you kept your mouth shut, meaning you swallowed everything your boss told you no matter how ridiculously the big-old nincompoop pumped up Notre Dame.

Now consider the very worst-case scenario: Imagine you were miked all day, and you found yourself telling people, “It’s a great privilege working for someone as talented as Mr. Dwyre,” because you knew the big-old nincompoop was listening, and this was your only shot at a raise.

As you can see, there are a lot of variables when someone is listening to every word you say, and it can have an impact on how well you do.

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CRAZY ME, THOUGH, I thought the Lakers lost to the Trail Blazers, because as the announcers kept telling us over and over, Shaquille O’Neal had assured them he would make the free throws when they counted, and apparently O’Neal determined this game didn’t count. That was a good enough explanation for me.

Then later I heard this stuff from Jackson about it being the referees’ fault because they were wired, and if you forget about that blown game earlier this year when he drew up the final play for Rider instead of Kobe Bryant, Jackson pretty much knows what he’s doing.

So it raises a good question: Would I act differently on press row if I were miked for a game?

I’d like to think I was just being me when I said, “Criminy, Phil, Rider is uncoachable, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take a timeout and coach everyone else.” But, maybe I was showing off for Suzy Shuster, hoping she’d put me on one of her Fox Regional Sports Reports as a local NBA expert.

Now would I be more careful if I were miked? I probably wouldn’t say, “Is that Jeanie Buss? Lucky Phil,” again. But I’d yell, “Time out, Phil--any time now,” because I think it’s pretty well accepted around here that I know a thing or two about coaching, and maybe he’d hear me.

But having someone listen to every word I say. That’s a tough one. Sometimes things just come out, you know, punkylike: “Hey, Philip, you might as well have Mike Penberthy play defense on Rasheed Wallace and surrender the way the rest of the lugs let him score at will.”

I make harmless remarks like that a lot. But it’s done in the privacy of my press seat, and when I sit down to write, I’m my usual objective self.

I can see the problem, though, if I were miked and someone like Greg Foster was monitoring my comments. He might take offense to the expression: “The big stiff.” And there really would be no reason for him to be upset, because I would never say that to his face.

I guess that kind of makes Jackson’s point--people not really being themselves--although I’m pretty sure if you asked Jackson, he would have liked to have been miked after the Portland game, and had his remarks fed directly into the referees’ dressing room.

P.S. Let me just say, I’m a big admirer of Mr. Dwyre . . . hello, is this working, testing 1-2-3 . . .

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THE IMPORTANT THING to remember at this time of year is to forget all those preseason predictions of who will make it to the Super Bowl. I know I have.

There are 12 teams remaining, and two of the best and definitely the most entertaining have No. 6 seedings: St. Louis and Indianapolis.

St. Louis opens against New Orleans on artificial turf, which should allow the Rams to go to New York next. They already beat the Giants by 14 without Kurt Warner and Marshall Faulk. That sets them up for an NFC title game with the winner of Tampa Bay-Minnesota. Philadelphia is eliminated by virtue of the fact it stinks--that’s both the team and the city.

Tampa takes advantage of a gimpy Daunte Culpepper, and gives everyone a rematch of the Buccaneer-Ram Monday night game--this time the Rams winning and going to the Super Bowl.

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IF THE COLTS get to Nashville, they’ll probably lack the grit to win. The Denver-Baltimore winner would play at Oakland in that case, which means the Raiders would be shaking, because they can’t beat Mike Shanahan.

But let’s say the Raiders get by Baltimore, travel to Tennessee, and probably lose. Raider lover that I am--I refuse to accept that at this time.

A Ram-Titan Super Bowl rematch would be a bore; a Ram-Raider Super Bowl would be a hoot. I always root for the hoot.

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THE PRELIMINARY TV RATINGS for the season’s Monday night football finale--Dallas and Tennessee--produced the second-lowest national rating in the 31-year history of the program. The Monday night game, however, finished with a higher rating than the Blue-Gray game. That’s the difference Dennis Miller makes.

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ANYONE WHO KNEW the Blue-Gray game was on TV must have had a Christmas to forget. Anyone who could tell you who won probably didn’t know it was Christmas. Anyone who could tell you the final score is awaiting parole.

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TODAY’S LAST WORD comes in an e-mail from Forrest:

“Did you know Stu Nahan used to be host for a TV children’s show in Sacramento, and he’d come out dressed in a nautical costume with a jaunty cap? ‘Skipper Stu’ then invited all the kids aboard his boat for a voyage to funland.”

Skipper now invites adults to hockey games, but he dresses the same.

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T.J. Simers can be reached at his e-mail address: t.j.simers@latimes.com