While flipping through the television channels on Feb. 19, I stumbled upon the NBA dunk contest just in time to see the flashbulbs go off.

As has been the case in the NBA, attention has been paid to what is flashy, showy, ostentatious or whatever synonym one would like to use. And yes, we all can agree that the NBA and fundamental skills are two concepts that do not mix well together.

But the damage done to the minds of those not quite at that level yet has made me look close to home at NIU. For the students who know there is both a men’s and women’s basketball team, and have cared to see even one game for each team, there is a noticeable difference in the games’ style. Plain and simply, the women’s team is more technical in their play. Put another way, looking at basketball from a purity standpoint, the women’s game is clearly less tampered than the men’s.

When James Naismith invented the game in 1891, he did not conceptualize a dunk. In fact, it took him some time to conceive of putting a hole in the bottom of the fruit basket that the soccer ball was being shot in to.

Now I understand the physical differences between men and women, which, for the most part, does not allow women to dunk a basketball. The height and vertical jump is just not there.

But does this contribute to the larger understanding of attitude toward the game? Basketball is a team sport, meaning no one person will win a championship on his own. Yet, this season the men’s team has relied on the skill of guard Xavier Silas to make a run for a MAC Championship. For a team that has been struggling to win games, frustration can turn into selfishness and lack of teamwork. As printed in a Northern Star article, men’s head coach Ricardo Patton said after the Feb. 19 game against Seattle that “sometimes, when you have guys that this is their last go around, maybe they start to think about life after college as opposed to thinking about their team.”

The attitude toward the game shifts from the team to the individual. And it may be that the individual flashiness long associated with the NBA has trickled down to the collegiate level and below, causing a rift between understanding what is meant by the term “team sport.”

Instead of needing the team to help the game, one player thinks he needs only himself. And by watching promotion of the single player in competitions like a dunk contest, the idea permeates.

But for me, a belief in the purism of the game, dunking over the front end of a midsize sedan is less flashy than dribbling the ball up the court, swinging it across the weak side to find the open player for a jumper. Maybe it’s because more than one person is involved, also known as a team.