Hornets Hype

Now, I know this is the internet, where douchebags have free reign to be douchebags in anonymity, without repercussions. I know most comment threads are usually full of ignorance that’s not worth reading. But (this is the point where you should stop reading if strong language offends you) the shit I have seen today is far beyond the limits of acceptable behavior. I am compelled to say something about it.

For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, in the past few weeks Stephon Marbury has gotten up to a neverending series of interesting– and sometimes disturbing– antics in his forays into livestreaming his life on the internet. I am probably guilty of watching far too much of them than is healthy to watch. Wizards center Brendan Haywood, when asked about Marbury by Hardcore Sports Radio, had the following to say:

“At first it was cool, but after a while it just became disturbing. He’s on YouTube crying with no shirt on for no reason, sweating while his boy’s rubbing his shoulders. What’s that about? That’s like gay porn. I don’t understand it. He’s dancing to a song called ‘Barbie Doll’, doing like stripper moves. I have no idea what’s going on with the guy, it’s almost like he’s trying to end his own career. There’s not a GM out there that would touch Marbury right now.

Have you seen the ‘Barbie Doll’ clip? Click on YouTube and go to Barbie Doll. There’s no way any other professional athletes would wanna get dressed around this guy, because you gotta think something is a little, he’s swinging from both sides of the fence.”

OMG they could be in your locker room, looking at your DICK!!

I was kind of taken aback by this when I read it, since, as mentioned, I watched quite a bit of the Marbury stuff this summer and “gay” was a word that pretty much never occurred to me. Kelly Dwyer of Yahoo’s Ball Don’t Lie provided an excellently written and fairly condemning post on Haywood’s foolish comments, and Kevin Arnovitz at True Hoop (who actually is one of the  “out” journalists referred to in the aforementioned post) followed it up with this piece. I read both and immediately thought, “Wow. Those were awesome pieces.” I said so at once. In fact, I’m the first comment on the BDL piece. What I liked particularly about it was that it used language that made the subject accessible to the average fan who might not be used to reading or writing about equality topics, and it used humor. It didn’t leap in and get political, or throw around a bunch of terminology that an NBA fan wouldn’t know. As you will soon find out, I am not going to do that in this post. I am going to use terminology. But I am going to– I promise– try to explain it, and also why the comments I read today from NBA fans are disheartening and seriously not OK, and the inherent connections homophobia has to issues which directly affect me.

Usually when I rant about topics like this, the group toward whom I direct my ire and fruitless pleas for enlightment is heterosexual white men. This is the default demographic in America. What do I mean by “default”? I mean that they are the group that’s marketed to. I mean that they are the group we see presented to us as characters on our televisions in Hollywood-produced entertainment, in ratios that are disproportionate to real life. It means if you are not a part of this group, you are “other” in some way. You have had some sort of “-ism” directed at you in your life, whether it be racism, sexism, whatever. For the purposes of today’s rant, however, I want to make it clear that men of color are totally not being given a pass. We are talking about HETEROSEXUAL. MEN. WHO. LIKE. SPORTS. Got it?

So now we’re going to talk a little about privilege. I’m going to roll with this definition, because I really like it:

Privilege Is: About how society accommodates you. It’s about advantages you have that you think are normal. It’s about you being normal, and others being the deviation from normal. It’s about fate dealing from the bottom of the deck on your behalf. (Source.)

It is now Question Time.

Q: But Ticktock6, I called Kelly Dwyer gay because if someone cares about an NBA player being afraid of gay people, he must also by default be gay!

A: I was called gay at least three times today in comment threads about the Brendan Haywood thing, and I found it both laughable and infuriating, because it is so symptomatic of the exact attitude the posts were talking about. It was part of what prompted me to write this post, and part of the privilege thing I was talking about before. It is self-centered and arrogant in the utmost extreme to assume that everyone in a comment thread must automatically feel a certain way because you do. Also, I frankly am so horrified that people apparently exist who have no ability to put themselves in the shoes of another human being, I really don’t know how strongly I can express this horror without spazzing incoherently on the keyboard of my MacBook. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? You read that post, and the first thought that jumped to your mind was, “Haha! Kelly Dwyer’s gay!” … Wow. You are a sad individual. You are awarded no points, you fail at life, and may God have mercy on your soul.

Q: Surely, Ticktock6, you would be afraid to change in a whole room of lesbians, because they might spontaneously assault you and try to convert you! Oh wait, I just remembered lesbians are hot. Whereas gays are not cool. Never mind.

A: There is a lot of privilege to unpack here but I will make a valiant attempt. Let us start with the fact that men are privileged not to have been bombarded by sexualized and contorted imagery of their bodies on a daily basis for their entire lives. As a woman, damn, all we see is other women’s bodies. They’re everywhere. They’re in our magazines. They’re on the TV. They’re out on the street, because it’s acceptable and encouraged for women to wear less clothing than men. They’re on freakin billboards. If we hadn’t achieved a level of comfort with them being out there, we wouldn’t be able to open our eyes in America. Our sexuality doesn’t even really belong to us, on a certain level. It belongs to… everyone! It’s… out there! It’s public. We have been removed from having a say in certain aspects of it, and while this is not right, it does make us very used to female bodies. Sorry if I can’t summon any sympathy for your terror that someone gay might be looking at your body. As a heterosexual male, you are privileged in not having to deal with this in your life. I don’t know, is it this privilege that makes men freak out about other men’s bodies? You tell me. But then, you guys are in locker rooms. You guys pee next to each other with parts of your anatomy out. Where does this intense fear of other men’s sexuality come from? Seriously, don’t you think gay people have much better things to do than try to convert you? Again, your ability to be so self-centered is directly rooted in your privilege.

Q: So you are saying that Stephon Marbury might have danced around on Justin.tv to a teenybopper song with no shirt on for a reason other than because he’s gay? But how can this be? I was watching! The fact that he was there! Doing that! While I was watching! And I’m a heterosexual male! He has to be gay!

A: This is the assumption that pissed me off. If you can get this, and only this, you may leave this blog and I will feel like I achieved my purpose. Repeat after me. It is not always about you. Maybe it’s possible that someone can do something weird or slightly “off” and it’s not about their sexuality. Hell, maybe it is about their sexuality, and it’s still not about you. Maybe it’s possible that people exist– bear with me please– who are basketball fans, for whom a video of Marbury dancing is not “gay” at all. I watched a bunch of the Marbury stuff. I was like, “Damn, don’t put the shirt back on!” Was that gay of me to say that? Of course not. I’m a heterosexual female. (Never mind that gay people are just like heterosexual people, and they behave in a variety of different ways because they are a whole spectrum of people and do not necessarily define their entire lives by the fact that they are gay. They may be doctors. They may be writers. They may be basketball players. The point is there is no such thing as “THIS IS THE WAY ALL GAY PEOPLE ACT”.) By pre-supposing that someone’s behavior is gay or offensive solely because you are uncomfortable with it or confused by it, you are making it all about you. Society is set up to accommodate you more than any other demographic group, and you are demanding that we do it some more because you are insecure. You completely dismissed out of hand the idea that Marbury might be dancing for anyone– me, his friends, himself– other than you, because of course you are his only possible audience. And as a nice little side note, you are telling me I can’t possibly exist. I do not take kindly to this. Hence, the post.

Q: I don’t get it. How is that telling you you don’t exist? That’s not what I said at all. You’re not even gay.

A: You implied it. And this is really the crux of the whole thing. When you make harmful and ignorant comments about an NBA co-worker/peer in a supposedly joking way, or think every space in the sports blogosphere is a safe space for you to spew ignorant hate as a commenter and not be called on it– after all, everyone there is the same as you! … What you are really saying is that people who aren’t like you  A) aren’t a part of the audience for sports, and B) aren’t welcome in sports.

As a wrap-up note, don’t tell me I’m being too sensitive and need to grow a thicker skin or whatever garbage you want to say. You. Have. No. Idea. What it is like being me, out here in the blogosphere. You think if I didn’t have a thick skin, I would be still be writing an NBA blog? This is going to be my third season, and let me tell you, if I was not already able to shrug off the disgusting jokes, and ignorant statements, and people talking like I’m not there, and sheer hatred of women I read on a daily basis– yes, I said daily and yes, I said hatred because, as far as I am concerned, a denial of a person’s basic humanity counts as hatred–  I would have quit after a month. And that’s just what I read on the internet. In the spaces I regularly inhabit as a fan of the NBA. I can’t even imagine what it is like being a female reporter in a locker room. Or a gay reporter in a locker room. Also, it goes without saying that anyone who accuses others of being “too sensitive” or “acting out” is operating with a big whopping dose of— let’s all guess the word– privilege. If you’re a blogger, never having to skim past eighteen disgusting comments about a group of people that includes you is the biggest privilege of all. And you probably don’t even notice.

What follows is a Heterosexual Privilege checklist. The time I have personally taken to read checklists like these has been highly eye-opening and sobering to me. I suggest you read it alone, drop the tired “no homo/pause” facade, and try to imagine what it is like to be someone else for the five to ten minutes it takes you to finish reading. (For more reading on privilege, go here. And White Privilege Checklist, and my personal favorite friend the Male Privilege Checklist.)

Daily Effects of Straight Privilege ( Source.)

On a daily basis as a straight person…

• I can be pretty sure that my roommate, hallmates and classmates will be comfortable with my sexual orientation.
• If I pick up a magazine, watch TV, or play music, I can be certain my sexual orientation will be represented.
• When I talk about my heterosexuality (such as in a joke or talking about my relationships), I will not be accused of pushing my sexual orientation onto others.
• I do not have to fear that if my family or friends find out about my sexual orientation there will be economic, emotional, physical or psychological consequences.
• I did not grow up with games that attack my sexual orientation (IE fag tag or smear the queer).
• I am not accused of being abused, warped or psychologically confused because of my sexual orientation.
• I can go home from most meetings, classes, and conversations without feeling excluded, fearful, attacked, isolated, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance, stereotyped or feared because of my sexual orientation.
• I am never asked to speak for everyone who is heterosexual.
• I can be sure that my classes will require curricular materials that testify to the existence of people with my sexual orientation.
• People don’t ask why I made my choice of sexual orientation.
• People don’t ask why I made my choice to be public about my sexual orientation.
• I do not have to fear revealing my sexual orientation to friends or family. It’s assumed.
• My sexual orientation was never associated with a closet.
• People of my gender do not try to convince me to change my sexual orientation.
• I don’t have to defend my heterosexuality.
• I can easily find a religious community that will not exclude me for being heterosexual.
• I can count on finding a therapist or doctor willing and able to talk about my sexuality.
• I am guaranteed to find sex education literature for couples with my sexual orientation.
• Because of my sexual orientation, I do not need to worry that people will harass me.
• I have no need to qualify my straight identity.
• My masculinity/femininity is not challenged because of my sexual orientation.
• I am not identified by my sexual orientation.
• I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help my sexual orientation will not work against me.
• If my day, week, or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether it has sexual orientation overtones.
• Whether I rent or I go to a theater or Blockbuster, I can be sure I will not have trouble finding my sexual orientation represented.
• I can walk in public with my significant other and not have people double-take or stare.
• I can choose to not think politically about my sexual orientation.
• I do not have to worry about telling my roommate about my sexuality. It is assumed I am a heterosexual.
• I can remain oblivious of the language and culture of LGBTQ folk without feeling in my culture any penalty for such oblivion.
• I can go for months without being called straight.
• I’m not grouped because of my sexual orientation.
• My individual behavior does not reflect on people who identity as heterosexual.
• In everyday conversation, the language my friends and I use generally assumes my sexual orientation. For example, sex inappropriately referring to only heterosexual sex or family meaning heterosexual relationships with kids.
• People do not assume I am experienced in sex (or that I even have it!) merely because of my sexual orientation.
• I can kiss a person of the opposite gender in the cafeteria without being watched and stared at.
• Nobody calls me straight with maliciousness.
• People can use terms that describe my sexual orientation and mean positive things (IE “straight as an arrow”, “standing up straight” or “straightened out” ) instead of demeaning terms (IE “ewww, that’s gay” or being “queer” ) .
• I am not asked to think about why I am straight.
• I can be open about my sexual orientation without worrying about my job.

Q: But isn’t this supposed to be about basketball?

A: It is about basketball. And if you really, truly, loved the game, you would do everything you could to make sure that other people who aren’t exactly like you can be part of it too. I really encourage people to think seriously about whether you are being selfish in spaces you share with other NBA fans. Think about whether what you say may interfere with someone else’s ability to post about or talk about their love of the game.

Now, I hope we are clear about how arrogant and ignorant it is to assume that no one who’s anything other than the demographic you belong to is in your space as a sports fan or participant. I hope we are also clear that… this blog? This is my space. And if the “big” media isn’t going to delete hateful and disgusting commentary, you can be 100% assured that I will.

The only correct and acceptable answer here is, “Yes, Ticktock6, we are clear. Crystal.”

This only works if you are a really, really fast reader, but if you click the link below, you can see what looks like our 2009-10 schedule (the dates match up, and the games are different from last year) before it redirects back to last year’s schedule. Oh, NBA, fining people for leaking schedules and then putting them up on NBA.com. UPDATE: The whole schedule appears to be up now. I’ve posted it.

http://www.nba.com/schedules/index.html?team=hornets

It looks like:

• We have several nationally televised games again
• We start 10/28 on the road at San Antonio
• First home game is vs. Sacramento
• For once, we end with a bunch of home games as opposed to the asskicker of a stretch run we’ve had the last two years

But again, that’s if this is indeed the schedule. We’ll find out for sure this afternoon. Also this afternoon is the Hornets’ press conference to officially introduce Emeka Okafor. I’ll probably throw up some links related to that later.

(Yes, my mood is “cold.” What? The A/C is madly ridiculous at my desk.)

I’m not sure I even knew where the Basketball Hall of Fame was until this weekend. (For all of you who are similarly oblivious, it’s in Springfield, MA.) But here we were driving down the Mass Pike on our way to a wedding, and we see a sign on the side of the highway that says “Basketball Hall of Fame.” We’re like, really? Here? Why? And then we thought, well, of course we have to go. It was the randomest of things. But I thought I’d share some of the pictures we took. Most of them are of weird stuff. Because I like weird stuff.

First of all, if you mean to go to the Basketball Hall of Fame, you cannot miss it. It’s right off the exit, for one thing, and for another, it’s the place with the giant basketball on top of a big white tower (see left). Oh, P.S.– at any time feel free to click on the pics to biggify them; I had to shrink them to thumbnails just to get them all into the post. Your $16 will get you a ticket with the names and pictures of the current year’s inductee class on it. This year, that’s Michael Jordan, David Robinson, C. Vivian Stringer, Jerry Sloan, and John Stockton, but none of their stuff is there yet because they don’t get inducted until September 10th. There was, however, construction tape roping off a section on the 2nd floor where they were ripping some walls out, and a sign informing us that this is where the MJ exhibit is going to be.

The Hall of Fame is set up around a three level dome. You walk in, they put you on an elevator, which whisks you up to the third floor. The third floor is where all the Hall of Famers are. Their pictures are on the walls (see left), and below them are boxes containing basketball artifacts, the HOFers’ biographies, some videos, and a neat historical timeline matching the history of basketball to other events that were going on in the world. Basically, you start in the 1800s and walk around the circle. On the second floor are specific exhibits– they have one for great high school teams and another for great college teams, one dedicated to pro dynasties, one for broadcasters (that one’s interactive, which is cool for the kids), one for coaches, as well as random jerseys and shoes and stuff from popular players. And on the first floor is a basketball court, so at any time you can wander over to the railing and look down and see all the kids playing (right).

Now, to have a good time at the Basketball Hall of Fame, I am going to posit that you have to be something of a nerd. In particular, a history nerd. And you have to be willing to read a lot. Which is why I’m sure, for instance, we probably got more out of the third floor than the group of high school ballers who were wandering through at the same time as us. If you want to see people you’ve heard of, you might as well skip the first two thirds of the top floor, because they’re not going to be there. Remember, most people you’ve heard of aren’t in the Hall. Even Jordan’s not yet. So, non-history buffs beware– you might want to proceed downstairs and do the silly stuff like sticking your foot in Shaq’s shoeprint (left). But you would be missing out.

Anyhow, basketball was invented in 1891 by Dr. James Naismith. He was Canadian! I bet you didn’t know that. So you enjoy your basketball heritage, Raps fans. The first game was played at the YMCA at what is now the location of Springfield College, hence the random location of the HOF. But it was quickly picked up by colleges who wanted a way to keep their athletes in shape between football and baseball seasons. Women’s basketball was started only a year later in 1892 by Senda Berenson Abbott (left), who was a gymnastics instructor at nearby Smith College. Yet– go figure– she didn’t get into the HOF until 1985! Yay for sexism, right? She was appropriately the first woman inducted, and there have been lots more since. Of course, I took her picture.

The old stuff in the HOF is hilarious. Here’s an early Knicks uniform on the right. It’s made out of sweater and has a belt! They used to also wear knee pads. They didn’t even have sneakers until 1917, when the Converse Chuck Taylor’s were invented (yup, they’ve got one on display). I got a huge kick out of the gear from the early 20th century. Also the totally random factoids. Like: Did you know the basket used to have to be opened by the ref after a team scored, to let the ball out? It wasn’t until 1906 that it dawned on someone to leave the bottom of the basket open. (There wasn’t a lot of scoring in early basketball.) And they had to invent the backboard because games were often played in crazy places like opera houses and there would be people reaching down over the wall from their seats to interfere with baskets? And they had to move the basket a few feet out from the wall because players used to try to run up the wall to lay the ball in? (I don’t know, doesn’t this seem like kind of a cool thing to put back in the game? Just for an exhibition at the All Star Game or something? With the athleticism of the players these days? I totally wanna see this!)

One of the cooler things in the early days of basketball was barnstorming. There were several organized leagues– it was more like in Europe than anything else we have in the U.S. But some teams, like the New York Renaissance, the first all-black team, and the Harlem Globetrotters, weren’t allowed in a league, so they would barnstorm– which was basically getting on a train or a bus and traveling around challenging whatever teams would play you. There was even a women’s team called the Red Heads (they all had red hair) who barnstormed and won something like 80% of their games against men’s teams. Because of the travel, basketball pretty much stuck to the eastern part of the U.S. for many years. We also learned that, in addition to the Boston Celtics (speaking of which, there’s one of Red Auerbach’s cigars, left), there was also a New York Celtics. You always think the players today are huge compared to 50 years ago, but I don’t know. Some of those guys in the 1920’s pictures clearly worked out. Dudes had pretty big arms, even if they weren’t as tall.

After awhile, we worked our way around the circle to the guys I’ve heard of. One of the things I liked were the commemorative balls. They’re all painted and written on with the names and dates of the accomplishments, and some of them are really old. This one on the right isn’t– it’s the ball from when the 1995-96 Bulls hit their 70th win. Then there was the quirky stuff. They’ve got Red Auerbach’s cigar– imagine anyone lighting up on the bench these days, even after the game was won. It would never happen. They’ve got Pistol Pete Maravich’s socks. Yep, his socks. I guess he used to wear tall floppy socks. And there is an actual pair of them in a glass case (see left). Pistol Pete is one of the jerseys retired in New Orleans Arena, even though he never played for the New Orleans Hornets (you know, I was just thinking, if we’re gonna do that, it seems like we’d also retire Larry Brown, who played for New Orleans’ ABA team, the Bucs, doesn’t it? But which jerseys are appropriate to retire where is another topic for another day). And he was, as far as I could tell, the first Louisiana guy in the HOF.

Oh, and small shorts! Let me tell you, there is a plethora of small shorts. The Hall of Fame is like an ode to the small short. There’s Bill Russell’s small shorts. And Wilt Chamberlain’s small shorts. I took pictures of several pairs of small shorts, but I will only grace you with one. These are Dave Cowens’ small shorts from the 1979-80 season. Now, it may be hard to get the proper perspective in this picture, but I am telling you, I own shorts the same size as these shorts. Am I a six foot nine man? Am I? I ask you. Amazing. The small shorts just slayed me. If you are a fan of small shorts, you should definitely check out the Basketball Hall of Fame. (Interestingly enough, the shorts started out long in the early days of basketball, got short, and then got long again. The era of the small short was fleeting yet legendary.)

One of the weirdest things about the HOF is that all of today’s great coaches… are already there! You need to be retired at least five years to be eligible if you’re a player, but coaches need to have been retired for five years or to have coached for 25 years. So Phil Jackson and Pat Riley and Larry Brown and Jerry Sloan… these guys are already in, even though their careers are still going. On the left was one of my favorite things– that’s Pat Riley’s pre-game speech to the Miami Heat the night they won the championship in 2006. His handwriting’s kind of hard to read, but I just found it amazingly cool to see all written out. What he thought was important, what he underlined, the quotes he picked. So did he deliver it like it was on the paper? Or just use it as a reference? I guess we have to ask James Posey.

On the second floor there are interactive displays where you can measure your wingspan (70″, and mine was longer than mW’s despite him being taller than me), see if you can palm a basketball (uh, the baby sized one), figure out your vertical leap (only like a foot, but I was wearing flip flops and hungover), and do other silly stuff like that. On the right, we can see that I am shorter than Manute Bol …. but! Taller than Muggsy Bogues. There are also more jerseys, sneakers, and team histories. There was also a small case full of Paul Pierce stuff (I suspect there is rather more Celtics stuff in the HOF than other teams because of its location less than 2 hours outside Boston). Which included– I shit you not, why did I not photograph this?– a bottle of Minute Maid lemonade. Like, seriously. Jerseys from Kansas and Boston, sneakers and some memorabilia… and a lemonade. I couldn’t decide if someone left it in there by accident or Paul Pierce just really, really loves lemonade. Someone needs to tell me the significance of the lemonade!

Finally, I am going to wrap up with a comment–and a plea– to the Denver Nuggets. I was not aware of these jerseys. I do not know how, because they are clearly one of the awesomest things in the history of the word awesome. Well, that oversight has been corrected, and I know about them now. And thus I must beg– bring back the rainbow unis, Nuggets! How many teams in the league have stupid light blue now? It’s overplayed. Not to mention three of them (Nuggets, Jazz, and Thunder) are similarly located in the middle of the U.S., so it’s not like you are helping people tell you apart there. No one has this. No one. Look at the rainbow on the legs of the warmups! This is a great uni. Bring it back, Nuggets. And then we can have idiotic conversations like this:

Melo: Pause.
Chaunce: … WTF? You didn’t say anything.
Melo: Oh, just cause I’m wearing this jersey. No homo.
Chaunce: …..

Make it happen, Nuggets. You know you want to.

According to the Associated Press, the NBA Salary Cap has been set at $58.68 million, about $1 million less than last year’s Cap.  The NBA Luxury Tax also dropped, by about $2 million, to $69.92 million.  The midlevel exception has been set at $5.85 million.  The new Cap and Tax went into effect at 12:01 a.m. today, allowing the real free agency period to begin.  Will the real Jeff Bower please stand up?

As of today, the Hornets are committed to 11 players, for $77,575,998.  Yikes.  Expect them to sign three more, and if both draftees, they come cheap, and whoever else (Marks?), cheap too.  But that’s still a $1 tax per dollar over the limit, which means Georgie is paying $8 mil out of pocket, plus loses out on certain revenue sharing.  As of today.

I missed this post from Minnesota T-Wolves blog Canis Hoopus when it came out a couple days after the draft, but I’m going to link to it anyway because it’s a great rant. It’s about the national media’s treatment of the Ricky Rubio circus, particularly the rampant use of “unnamed sources” and cliches about Minnesota and the organization.

What does this have to do with the Hornets? Well, you know we’re interested in critiquing the failings of the mainstream media on this blog. But all his points are particularly relevant to one of our favorite causes– taking writers/sports personalities to task (sarcastically) for their sloppy research on New Orleans and the franchise’s situation here. Amazingly, I read an article even last week that stated the Hornets might be forced to trade Tyson Chandler because they can’t put butts in the seats (despite factual evidence that pops up at the top of a simple Google search — which anyone could have performed in 30 seconds– stating that the Hornets were actually 8th out of 30 teams in percentage of butts in seats this season).

So, it’s interesting to read about other maligned small-market franchises’ struggle with the same crap.

Probably a lot of you that read this site enjoy Yahoo’s Ball Don’t Lie.  I do.  Big fan of The Basketball Jones, too.  But I caught a video they posted the other day, “Where Amazing Caucasian Happens,” a parody of Kanye West’s alleged-song, “Amazing.”  Honestly, I get that it’s a joke.  But beyond that, I think it bothered me.  The very premise that whites are worse athletes than blacks is ingrained deeper than this parody, and obviously is the thing upon which it relied.

To begin with, it is an outdated paradigm: whites-blacks.  The NBA, like America itself, is a multicultural thing, with a growing number of foreign players.  How do they fit in?  What about mixed heritage players?  I mean, seriously, there are few blacks in America as richly dark as persons born in Africa today, and few whites in America as pale as Swedes.  But why even get caught up in distinction?  Does it matter?  I don’t think so.

When Kobe broke out as a star, he emerged from a League that had a thug-like reputation.  What made him stand out wasn’t the color of his skin.  It was being brought up in an upper-middle class, suburban neighborhood, being well educated, and traveling the world at a young age; despite not going to college, he’s probably been better schooled than a lot of athletes who went to college.   I mean, contrast that to the out of court college experiences of Jason Williams, who got kicked out of one of the most prestigious college sports teams in the country for repeated violations of the drug policy, i.e., he liked the Weed.  So he jumped straight to the NBA with amazing raw physical talent, made highlight passes left and right, and talked with that Southern-ghetto accent.  Oh yeah, and he was white.  Yet his nickname, “White Chocolate.”  I don’t think I have to explain the correlation.  Both of these players inverted the extreme stereotypes that people have of certain races, and showed that it was a person’s actions that mattered most, and that anyone, of any race, if put in the right or wrong situation, could exemplify the best or worst of any attribute, race be damned.

Here’s the bottom line.  We do studies and track data and make all these distinctions by race.  But what is “race”?  Why are Hispanics not Caucasians?  They developed from Spaniards, like early Americans were French or American.  Are people in Spain today not “white”?  What even is “black”?  Not that long ago, in a famous case here in Louisiana, a woman discovered she was legally black because she was 1/36 black.  Not sure if that law is still on the books.  But think of it, how “mixed” people are considered to belong to whatever race the minority distinction in their blood inheres.  It’s more latent racism, that only “pure” members of the race count.  Crazy.

My point?  It’s irrelevant.  I try never to think of or even acknowledge race.  Sure, the guy standing in the third row with the pale skin.  The black lady walking past George Shinn’s seats.  There’s no shame in describing someone’s appearance, just like there’s no problem acknowledging the color of a person’s eyes.  But as if it means anything?  Nope.  It’s all how you are educated, how you choose to develop, and how you carry yourself.  For those of us that pretend these things are inherently related, it’s just lazy correlation.  As a convenient side-bonus, it enables people to forget the real and more complicated problems: unequal education, low wages vs. out-of-control inflation, and lack of health care coverage.

But that’s just me.  Yeah, I get this video was a joke.  But it’s also an implicit acknowledgment of how we perceive race relations.  I just think that time will erase all such artificial distinctions.  But who wants to wait that long?  Sorry.  Now back to your regularly scheduled NBA-blog.

So yesterday afternoon I was joking around that, instead of my regular snarky one-liners on Twitter during the game, I would comment upon Cavs/Magic Game 4 entirely in haiku. Well, this didn’t quite pan out the way I expected, since one of my domains got hit by a spammer from Sweden who generated 150,000 spam comments and caused my entire account, including this blog, to be suspended by my host. If you came here last night, you might have noticed the fact that the site was, you know, missing. Sorry about that. It’s fixed now. But it caused me to be on the phone with tech support and as a result I missed most of the game.

True to my word, though, I hopped on Twitter with around 3 minutes left in the fourth quarter and did live game commentary through the rest of regulation and overtime entirely in haiku. I decided to put all my haikus together, just for fun:

1.
Dougie loves LeBron
but that pesky man named Skip
oh he’s just a friend

2.
Superman at line
strangely strong under pressure
hit one to close out!

3.
Rafer is so clutch
oh wait forget I said that
jack another one

4.
GET THE DAMN REBOUND
IT’S OUT OFF OF DELONTE
lucky break Magic

5.
Not too much time left
live or die by the jumper
time to live or die

6.
Come on Feel the Noise
watcha gonna do Magic
inbound play is key

7.
Swish goes the clutch shot
so this makes Rashard Lewis
King of what Kingdom???

8.
M-FING BULLSHIT
he tripped over his own feet
travesty ends not

9.
“What it comes down to”
“is Cavs are inferior”
“wasting our time” – M

10.
Fatigue a factor?
how bout monstrous ass screwings
by men in gray shirts?

11.
DUNK THAT SHIT DUH-WIGHT
the only way to live now
is fight through this hard!

12.
Holy MF shit
was that shot from in orbit?
make your own fate now

13.
They don’t need no crowns
these Magic know how to make
their own destiny

14.
“I’ll tell you how big”
“that play was,” says Doug– wait Doug
how big was what now?

15.
Clutcheriffic Dwight
tune it out with the music
that plays in your head

16.
Chosen One watches
as a taller star is made
in these late moments

17.
In an apartment
somewhere in corporate land
two puppets are sad

We all got played.  Have you ever seen a good Lebron Raymone James (“LRJ”) shot and turned to a friend, and just said, “Witness, dude.  Witness.”  Have you called him the “Chosen One?”  How about “King James”?  (I prefer Viscount James, but I disgress.)  Well, you got played.  In politics, business, and law, masters of language work hard to control the language, because when you control the words people use, you limit the choices available to those people.

A quick example.  Politicians love the term “Tax Relief” when they’re for tax cuts.  Why?  Because “relief” implies a malady which needs a cure.  How could anyone be against curing the tax “ills” of America?  Boom.  The language does exist to oppose that.  But if you re-frame the argument in terms of fiscal responsibility, and dispute the very use of the term, “relief” as loaded and avoiding the real issues inherent to taxation you can argue effectively by supplying a new language for the discourse.  Advertising does it all the time by using trademarks.  Product X has the new “SafeClean” system.  1) The company brags that no other product has it, which is crazy, because the “it” is a trademark, thus no one else can have it; and 2) people just accept that this product is actually “safe” because it has that word in the product description, which, technically doesn’t mean shit, it’s a name.  But people don’t look beyond the product name and how it’s packaged and are fooled.  My basketball point?  LRJ and his people are exactly those kinds of masters of language and we’ve all been clowned.
 

Art by Andre Moore

Bron-Bron tattoos himself with all his monikers and his publicity people put them out there, as ubiquitous as air and as often appearing as a bad Craig Seger suit: every time.  Then Nike puts it out there.  Then Vitamin Water puts it out there.  But what’s really unforgivable is that the national media does it.  This should be no different than when the news media was excoriated for using the term “Maverick” to describe John McCain, when his camp was the one to invent the term, and which was largely misleading because he voted with President Bush 90% of the time.  (Can you imagine if so-called objective pundits had said “Yes We Can” cover Obama’s campaign?  It was his slogan, so to have incorporated that language into anything other than the description of that slogan would have been ridiculous.)  My point here is that sportswriters should never use the terms “Witness,” “Chosen One,” or the like  in their articles.

Nonetheless, we get stuff like this, allowing the “Chosen One” metaphor to get out of control:

It changes the way we think of him, makes you want to proclaim, “He is ‘The One,’” as when Neo came back to life and made the bullets stop in “The Matrix.” From now on, anything and everything seems possible with LeBron. – J.A. Adande, ESPN.

Now to be clear, no beef against J.A., I like his work.  But really?  Does this mean LRJ is going to start shooting all his shots from the opposite baseline just because he can?  Don’t hold your breath.  LRJ is no messiah, just a good baller.  Maybe he should just start with free throws.

Here’s another one:

As if once wasn’t enough, the Orlando Magic were forced to watch LeBron James’ amazing buzzer-beater all day yesterday.  The Magic were witnesses all right. Again. And again. And again. – AP Report, Boston Herald.

Seriously, do journalists work for Nike?  It’s crazy.  We need to think about this, seriously.  The Big Nickname himself, Shaq, has more names than he knows what to do with, but they’re not nearly as self-promoting.  The Big Aristotle: trying to show he’s a thinker, not just a dumb giant.  It means something.  The Big Cactus: just a joke on the former nickname.  Dwayne Wade?  Shaq called him Flash to his Superman.  Okay, Superman’s a little self-involved, but it’s also not selling anything.  How about Kobe?  Black Mamba.  First of all, everyone made fun of it before it finally stuck.  Second, it’s supposed to be a metaphor.  He strikes fast and he’s deadly.  Fine.

But consider also that Lebron and his billionaire-minded camp manufactured his names before even playing a single NBA game!  At least the guys above earned their names.  To further prove my point, compare “Chosen One” to the “Great One” in hockey, Wayne Gretzky.  Gretz won eight consecutive MVPs and had more assists than any other player had points when he retired (in hockey points are a combination of both goals and assists).  Yet, again, LRJ had the audacity to call himself “great” before he even played a game?  Fuck, he could’ve ended up being Darko, there was no way to know.  The whole thing is ludicrous.

The worst part? LRJ doesn’t even encourage you to think.  He’s just the “Chosen One.”  The “King.”  No metaphor.  Just accept that he’s the shit straight up.  And as opposed to the inclusiveness of Michael Jordan–who, incidentally, didn’t need all these names because he let his play talk for him–whose corporate slogan was “Be Like Mike,” and invited us all to dream, all to share in his greatness, LRJ doesn’t want you near him.  Instead, you can just sit back and “Witness” his glory.  Sorry.  Other than in the context of linguistic discourse like this, or maybe just plain sarcasm, I won’t be using those phrases.

Lebron might score 50 tonight or hit another buzzer beater.  But it won’t change the fact that he’s a self-aggrandizing, arrogant man-boy who truly believes the world is Lebron-centric.  Fuck that.  We all have a choice over the words we use.  So don’t let someone else, anyone else, put those words in your mouth.  And national media?  Please, think a bit before you succumb to the lazy cliches that make you just another mouthpieces for LRJ’s self-perpetuating myth.

UPDATE 5/25/09: The Orlando Sentinel is on board!

So last night after the Lakers defeated the Nuggets in Game 1 of the Western Conference Finals, I fell asleep for like 2 hours. When I woke up, contacts sticking to my eyes, this is the first thing I saw:

Oh, you know, just had this red leather vest lying around the house and thought, "Wouldn't that look sweet with my madras shirt?"

Clearly this was some sleep-induced hallucination. Surely no one would be wacky enough to show up at an NBA press conference dressed as the really tall other half of Starsky and Hutch.

And yet Lamar Odom did. We shouldn’t be surprised. After all, we’re talking about a guy who showed up at a game last year wearing this:

It's a hoodie! It's a suit! It's a Lakesuit!

Like, wait, hold up. Is that…. a Laker colored suit? A Lakesuit? Or is it a hoodie? Or is it… a suit and a hoodie?

Lamar Odom strolled into the Lakers’ locker room some 25 minutes late. Lakers coach Phil Jackson had just finishing addressing the media during his pregame press session when he saw Odom and blurted out:

“Oh, my God,” Jackson said, laughing. “No wonder it took you a long time to get here.”

Jackson laughed at Odom’s outfit he was wearing. It was an all white suit. The sleeves on the coat were purple. The lapels were gold. “Are you in a marching band?” Jackson joked.

It was hard to describe what Odom was wearing. “This is indescribable,” Odom correctly said. “You can’t describe this.”

Pull up a seat, as we take a spin through the fashion world of one Lamar Odom…

[More]

I get it. Teams alleged tanked ends of seasons to get the #1 pick.  They made a lottery to counter.  Yeah, that’s really stopped teams.  Remember the term “tankapalooza” from the last few years?  Riley scouting college games instead of coaching?  Right.  No impact whatsoever.  Worst idea ever.  Beyond that, since 1990, only 4 teams with the League’s worst record have won the lottery, and teams with the second worst record have won it just 2 times.  So who’s really being rewarded?  Teams that don’t deserve it.  It’s total bullshit. 

The Lottery is a joke and an embarrassment to the League.  I think the only reason that they keep it in place is so Stern can laugh at the conspiracy rumors.  Which, speaking of, may be more than rumors.   Ewing anyone?  Duncan?  Rose?  Right.

So, anyone know who’s been given the #1 pick this year?  My money’s on either OKC or Memphis.  Stern wants the former to succeed and the latter’s already been screwed by the lottery enough that even Stern might feel bad.  But that’s just me.

Discuss.