It’s just a regular season game on November 19th, 2004. The matchup for the night, the away Indiana Pacers versus the home Detroit Pistons, is a rematch of the Eastern Conference Finals from the previous year. The Pacers are up by twenty right out of the gate and have an easy time holding the lead by fighting off the Pistons’ occasional lead slashes with very well drawn-up plays by coach Rick Carlisle. With 45.9 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the win seemed just reachable. They would never actually hear the final buzzer go off.
The Pacers’ Ron Artest fouls Ben Wallace hard on a layup. The foul isn’t too heavy, but Artest accents it with a slap across the back of the head as Wallace went up. Wallace retaliates by shoving Artest in the face with both hands.
Players scuffle all the time so things don’t seem too out of hand... yet.
Artest climbs onto the scorer's table, resting his head in relaxed arms behind his neck, waiting like a fuse with the spark only at his ankles. The bomb won’t blow until later. Artest had a history of anger issues, and he was previously advised to, in heated situations like this, rest his head and breath to calm down.
By about a minute and a half after the initial foul, a mass upwards of fifteen people has grown into a pile of pumping testosterone, frustration and egos. Stephen Jackson (a Pacers big man) squares up with his legs shoulder length apart and his fists dangling down from his torso. Rasheed Wallace, a veteran at this point in his career (and a generally pretty cool guy) tries to separate everyone and keep heads level. The referees are trying to pass out ejections, but the demand is far too high and only growing.
A drink flies from the hands of a Pistons’ fan, floating on heated air and guided by the fate of NBA basketball to come. It hits Artest dead-center in his barreled-chest. Artest jumps over the scorer’s table, steps on a local Pacers announcer in the process (fracturing five of his vertebrae) and then runs into the stands and tackles the fan seemingly into the next dimension. Coincidentally, the man that Artest sent to the hospital was not actually the man who threw the Diet Coke, but instead an innocent bystander (who did, in Artest’s defence, commit the crime of lookin’ funny at a man who would later name himself Metta World Peace).
Stephen Jackson follows Artest into the crowd, striking two fans on his way up. Rasheed Wallace follows, trying to pull the two men out of the stands like bricks in a crane game.
The cameras zoom in and out, trying to follow Artest and Jackson up the stands, but they’re just a blurry mass running around swallowing everything around them. The announcer Mike Breen’s voice cracks as he attempts to commentate on the whole deal. The whoops and hollers cry out of the arena, adding to the already hellish landscape. Children can be heard crying and screaming from the opposite-end seats, being forced to sit and watch as their heroes try to destroy their fellow man. Because the entirety of the coaching staffs, the referee staffs and a good number of players jump into the stands to retrieve the few players actually committing assault on fans of their game, the whole mess grows and grows. It swallows up all those in the vicinity: fans, players, everyone. I would say it’s like a gladiator match, but even most gladiators didn’t go running into the stands slicing up all the attendees.
“Artest has a look in his eye that is very scary right now,” says Breen. Artest’s jersey is ripped to pieces as he returns to the hardwood. He stands in the middle of the court, looking around the stadium in a daze of furry. Seemingly looking for more trouble to start, Stephen Jackson still bustles around the floor. As the Pacers leave the stadium, gallons of soda and huge bunches of popcorn rain on them like droplets of pure distain, sincerely from the Pistons fans.
The event was dubbed as “The Malice at the Palace” (due to the Pistons’ arena being the Palace of Auburn Hills). Analysts argued for days over what the repercussions should be, what changes the league should bring to avoid future similar occurrences, etc. But time would only show the real impact.
Artest (understandably) got the harshest punishment from the NBA, being suspended for the remainder of the season (a whopping 86 games). Most of the other players involved were also given suspensions, but to a varying level of lesser degrees. Several individuals involved were not only punished by the league, but by the judicial system, including Artest and the original Diet Coke throwing fan.
Before and during the 80’s, the NBA was a much grittier league than it is now, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. While the league cleaned itself up due to the “Bad Boys Era” of the late 80’s-early 90’s Detroit Pistons, the Malice was the final straw. Even though the “flagrant foul” was introduced in the 90’s, it’s appearance has skyrocketed in years since the brawl. While players do not need to get hurt by other players in excessive fouls, there comes a point to where the game is not being played the same way. Many players take advantage of the stricter league, adding “flopping” to their defensive and offensive arsenal. Ironically, “flopping” is now also punishable too.
The repercussions are still very apparent off the court as well. The event began the era of “player punishment.” Suspensions are sent around the league all the time now, sometimes necessarily and, arguably, sometimes not. Speaking badly about refereeing is now a monetary suspension. Small scuffles are matched with game, sometimes multiple game, suspensions.
Did the NBA over-adjust after the Malice? Both sides have multiple positives and negatives. Those who say that the league is now too strict has to admit that the players (and, I guess, fans) are much safer due to the new regulations. Those who say the league handled everything perfectly must admit that the game lost a bit of grittiness, and thus (to some at least) a dimension of entertainment. Just as there are fans of NASCAR only for the crashes, there were fans of the NBA only for the fights.
Whichever side you’re on, the Malice is still one of the most memorable moments in the history of the NBA and sports in general. For good and bad, for better and worse.
