A Blog In Defense Of Joel Embiid: You Can't Help But Laugh At How Bad The Officiating In The NBA Is After Seeing What Happened In Last Night's Sixers Spurs Game

(I cannot wait for Greenie's rebuttal to this blog trying to explain how the NBA doesn't have an officiating problem and trying to spin this into being "entertainment".)

Jordie kinda blogged this last night after Embiid got tossed. He took the angle killing Embiid like has this season for Embiid's repeated absences and antics. 

And make no mistake, nobody can stand Embiid less than me. I think he's one of the biggest perpetrators in Michael Rubin's giant crew of frauds. But even I have to admit that what happened last night was a complete and utter joke. 

If there’s one thing we can count on in the NBA these days, it’s the referees making every game about themselves. 

If you tuned in Monday night hoping for a heavyweight showdown between Joel Embiid and Victor Wembanyama, you got something else entirely. A masterclass in how NBA officiating continues to hijack the league and how one of its biggest stars couldn't help but write his own chapter in the chaos. Per usual.

Let’s start with the refs, who are now as much a part of the NBA product as the insane amount of three-pointers and load management. 

Monday’s game was officiated with the kind of precision you'd expect from a dart thrower after happy hour. 

The 76ers’ victory over the Spurs should’ve been about the team’s strong recent play, (they’ve now won seven of their last 10), but instead, it turned into Flop City, starring Victor Wembanyama. 

For a league whose ratings are down, you'd think they would dial back on the officials and their insatiable need to assert dominance over the game. But no sir. 

The drama began when Andre Dummond was whistled for breathing on Wemby, and he flailed to the ground. (Above)

On the very next play, it happened again, and Drummond was ejected by referee Jenna Schroeder.

Upon review, she admitted her mistake. 

Then they wipe the tech away, and the FT, and bring Drummond back out. 

What a fucking clown show. 

But the damage was done. The tension between Philly and the officials was already sky-high, and Embiid, whose emotions often run hotter than blue hell, poured gasoline on the fire less than five minutes later.

Wembanyama, who has clearly been studying the Marcus Smart School of Acting, flailed to the ground after the slightest of nudges from Embiid. 

The call? 

A charge. 

The reaction? 

A full-on Embiid eruption that saw him ejected before it was even halftime. 

And while it was a weak whistle, let’s not pretend Embiid is some innocent victim. This man is a Hall of Fame-level flopper. The irony of him losing his mind over a flop, something he’s made a career of perfecting, is comedic gold. It’s like the pot screaming at the kettle for being too black.

Crew chief Curtis Blair clarified postgame that Embiid’s contact was indeed incidental, meaning it was unintentional and, by definition, not a big deal. So why does this feel like an overreaction straight out of an eighth-grade school dance? It’s like the refs are perpetually auditioning for a role in a fucking soap opera. 

Embiid's reaction was impulsive, and immature, but lets be clear: Embiid has a point about the officiating. The NBA’s obsession with officiating every brush of contact has made the game borderline unwatchable at times. Refs are inserting themselves into games with calls that swing momentum, dictate narratives, and, in cases like this, eject superstars. 

Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, tunes in to see Curtis Blair and these clown refs, dominate the highlight reel.

They buy tickets, and tune in to watch the superstars. And Embiid is one of the league's stars. 

He is also a guy who has barely been on the court this season. Monday marked just his eighth game of the year, and it was only the fifth time he, Tyrese Maxey, and Paul George have all suited up together. 

When you’ve got three stars who can’t seem to share the floor for more than a few games without someone getting hurt, tossed, or sinus-fractured, staying on the court becomes priority number one.

The fact the officials are tossing a guy like that before halftime for something so trivial is a way bigger fucking problem for Adam Silver than figuring out how to run the league's All-Star Game even further into the ground. 

The Sixers got lucky though. Tyrese Maxey saved the day with 32 points, and they held on for a 111-106 win.

Here was Nick Nurse holding back avoiding fines after the game. 

p.s. - 

Howard Eskin is such a troll it's crazy.