Poster dunk victims like Mike Muscala are the real heroes

One of the most exciting things that can happen in an NBA game is a poster dunk.

The slam dunk itself is an expression of ferocity, a realization of impressive athleticism, a vision of elite physicality 98 percent of observers can’t match. To someone who can’t manage to slam on a 10-foot rim — that is, almost everyone — watching someone dunk is mighty impressive.

It’s not the most important basketball skill at any level. Being able to hit three-pointers, to make clean passes on the drive, to rebound in traffic, to defend without fouling, to hit free throws consistently — those are all skills more important than dunking the ball.

But those skills aren’t as impressive as a dunk.

The poster dunk brings the basic dunk to another level. It introduces drama. It introduces, in a way, combat. It brings a team level down to an individual level, much as is the case with a crossover in isolation on the perimeter. (The famed Allen Iverson crossover and stepover on Tyronn Lue was the guard’s version of a poster dunk.)

There have been cogent concerns about tying up masculinity and dominance culture in appreciation of the poster dunk in the past. But you can strip those problematic elements out by reframing the poster dunk as essentially stage combat.

The dunker is the protagonist. The defender is the antagonist. The air above the paint is the stage. We the audience all wait in eager anticipation.

What I want to talk about is the importance of antagonist. Without that role, a poster dunk is just a dunk: impressive, but not dramatic. Without someone willing to step in as a villain, there can be no heroes.

Without Mike Muscala, this John Wall dunk is just another dunk. With Mike Muscala and his face, it’s a showstopper.

Let’s enhance.

Freeze it right there.

Yes, this is good dunk.

Here’s the important thing: It doesn’t happen without Mike Muscala and his face.

Without defenders willing to play the role of the antagonist, we don’t get marvelous freeze frames like that. We don’t get GIFs that get us dancing in our living rooms. We don’t get stinkfaces. We don’t get bench reactions. We don’t get posters. To the dunkers go the tributes. But without the poster victims, none of this is possible.

We should cherish every player who decides to defend a dunk. We should not ridicule them in a classic sense. (Memes are fine. In fact, memes are good.) These defenders have not been emasculated or expelled from the NBA or any of the goofy things we tweet when something like this happens. They have died on stage, much as Tybalt falls by Romeo’s sword. (Spoiler alert.) It’s a dramatic moment within the greater drama of the game; sometimes, the dramatic moment outshines the whole. But Tybalt still gets applause at the curtain call. So too should Mike Muscala’s face.

Thank you, Mike Muscala’s face. John Wall may be the star of this scene, but it couldn’t happen without you.