Oh, I've caught the fever, baby. I've caught it REAL bad.

Say what you will about the NBA (e.g. “It’s booooring!” “No one plays defense!” “The players are so promiscuous! Someday they’ll all be dunking...in the fiery depths of hell!”), but they sure know how to market well.

If this weekend’s All-Star weekend proved anything to me, it’s that the NBA has absolutely smoked the other two (come on; let’s face it) pro sports leagues in promoting its product in recent years. Maybe it’s just the luck of an exceptionally charismatic wave of talent, but somehow the NBA has turned into the fun-time feel-good league that few would have fathomed eight years ago.

Overblown? Yes. But All-Star Weekend was fun to watch. The creativity in this year’s dunk contest was fun to watch. The Barkley-Bavetta race was very fun to watch. Even the Shooting Stars competition, which is stupid, somehow proved entertaining.

I know I’m a year or two late with this whole NBA rebirth theme (sorry, the blog hasn’t been around that long), but it’s still apt, as the vibe seems only to build further. It almost seems counterintuitive that the NBA, what with David Stern’s wacky codes of conduct, has found momentum in the self-expression of its players. But whether it was Gerald Green and Nate Robinson’s cardboard cut-out antics, Shaq’s point-guard play (a repeat gag, but great nonetheless), or Gilbert Arenas just being the generally ridiculous character he is, that’s what happened this weekend.

Would any other league let one of its Hall of Famers and one of its officials stage a footrace? Or for that matter, have the other pro leagues ever enjoyed such a lightheartedness that could produce a stunt like that? On the whole, NFL and MLB Hall of Famers are a pack of icy stiffs too hung up on (respectively) their macho pride and self-importance to look silly dicking around with the young guys.

The current NBA links to its past by having George Gervin launch half-court shots and showing campy-yet-cool Red Auerbach “Roundball” videos on its website. Right now, the MLB’s strongest links to its past are Jose Canseco and Pete Rose book tours and a surly Hank Aaron bemoaning the accomplishments of today’s steroid users. And when these connections aren’t strained or downright negative, they’re so up-their-own-ass with the sacredness of baseball tradition that they alienate the 99.999% of the fan base that never made the big leagues.

Maybe it’s rooted in the fact that most NBA stars never completed college—if they went at all—but their playfulness comes off so much more genuine than their NFL and MLB counterparts. Never propped up by baseball dads or corrupted by college education, many are literally living part of their unfinished childhood in the NBA. And it’s great to watch, even when it plays out as petulance more than playfulness.

When Gilbert Arenas talks about banding together with regular season opponents for a shot at 35-grand, it’s charming and refreshing in a way that Sammy Sosa’s “I’m just trying to put on a good show for the fans” in the 2000 Home Run Derby tried to be, only to ring phony. Even the NBA’s charity pin-ups and “guys from all different backgrounds coming together because we all love to ball” angles come off way more authentic than they do in other sports. And I think, in part, that’s because they are.

Whether the NBA is that great at marketing their product or just very lucky right now, gone is the image of the league where shady, criminal-minded characters like Latrell Sprewell and Shawn Kemp were free to choke coaches, start fights, scare children, make illegitimate babies, and run isolation sets. Now when players start fights and spawn illegitimate children, they earn it by cracking zone defenses. And it’s in a more fun, diverse, charitable way.

And that’s what this weekend taught me. That, and a 44 year-old fat dude can beat a 67 year-old runner in a short footrace.