“Even Sugar Got Free…”: Black Athletes and the Contradictions of Free Agency

“Even Sugar Got Free…” *: 
Black Athletes and the Contradictions of Free Agency

by David J. Leonard | NewBlackMan (in Exile)

One of the common narrative frames of the 2012 playoffs was how the Oklahoma City Thunder did things the “right way.”  Ignoring the team’s move from Seattle, a fact that left Sonics fans with a bitter taste in their mouth, Thunder mania stemmed from the fact that the bulk of their roster was made-up of draft picks and players who arrived via trade.  Embodying a “rags-to-riches” ideology, one that celebrates individuals and institutions that supposedly pull themselves up by their bootstraps (or draft-picks), the celebration of the Thunder makes perfects sense given our national imagination about sports.  In praising the Thunder for choosing to trade several players to acquire endless draft picks (a fact that surely also had to do with the pending sale of the team and dumping salary), fans and media pundits reimagined the Thunder as creating their own destiny. 

This celebratory tone was amplified during the 2012 finals, which pitted the Thunder against the Heat, an organization imagined as everything wrong with sports.  “The fact that we equate the Heat with evil and the Thunder with good reveals one big truth: sports fans and media hate it when a player chooses where he plays, and love it when a player has no choice over where he plays,” writes Nicholas Schwartz. “Writers and fans simply approve when a player has absolutely no choice over where he can play — like the Oklahoma City players dealt through trades — and disapprove when a player has a choice in which uniform he puts on. The criticism of the Heat ‘model’ for winning reveals that sports fans simply don't want athletes to have any power over the course of their careers.”

What is clear from this “logic” and the celebration of the Thunder is that fans and media alike don’t like free agency.  Worse yet, they don’t approve of players, particularly young African American men, determining their own future.  In wake of LeBron James’ decision to take his talents to South Beach, William Rhoden noted the oppositional nature of free agency for the black athlete: “There are many lessons contained in the James free-agency drama. The first is controlling the game, not allowing the game to control you. Here is James, a 25-year-old African-American man with a high school diploma, commanding a global stage.”  The response that he should “shut up and play” where he is told to play reflects the hegemony of white racial framing.  The message is clear: professional basketball players are lucky enough to earn millions of dollars for playing a game, and that the least they can be is grateful, appreciated and loyal to their fans and city. 

The contempt for player movement within the NBA has been on full display in recent years.  The condemnation directed at LeBron James both typified this mentality all while perpetuating the idea that free agency is destroying the league.  On The Bleacher Report, Asher Chancey named James the #1 worst traitor in sports history (the Sonics/Thunders’ owners are no where on the list). “By holding a prime-time news conference to announce to the world that the City of Cleveland was losing one the best athletes in professional sports, LeBron showed all the qualities we suspect our favorite athletes possess but hope they do not,” he notes. “LeBron showed the entire world that he has an enormous ego, he cares about himself first and all others second, and that the game of basketball is just that to him, a game.” 

In other words, in holding a nationally held press conference that millions of people chose to watch, by raising money for the Boys and Girl’s Club, and in exercising his rights under free agency, he was denigrated (and dehumanized) as a traitor.  He was said to be worse than owners who moved their teams to other cities or franchises that fire its workers because of a lockout. 

Telling, no? 

With jerseys burning in the background and fans ranting in virtual spaces, Dan Gilbert made clear his feelings about James and the enterprise of free agency:

As you now know, our former hero, who grew up in the very region that he deserted this evening, is no longer a Cleveland Cavalier.  This was announced with a several day, narcissistic, self-promotional build-up culminating with a national TV special of his “decision” unlike anything ever “witnessed” in the history of sports and probably the history of entertainment. Clearly, this is bitterly disappointing to all of us…. his shocking act of disloyalty from our home grown “chosen one” sends the exact opposite lesson of what we would want our children to learn. And “who” we would want them to grow-up to become. But the good news is that this heartless and callous action can only serve as the antidote to the so-called “curse” on Cleveland, Ohio. The self-declared former "King” will be taking the “curse” with him down south. And until he does “right” by Cleveland and Ohio, James (and the town where he plays) will unfortunately own this dreaded spell and bad karma.

Ray Allen’s recent decision to join the Heat has prompted similar outrage.  Fans have burned his jersey; Jarrett Jack took to twitter to call him a traitor; he has been called “Benedict Allen;” “Judas Shuttlesworth” has become such a common reframe that t-shirts are now available.  He joins, James, Carmelo Anthony and Deron Williams, who both found their way to New York (although traded, they are still condemned for not being loyal), and Dwight Howard, whose indecision has not masked his determination to leave Orlando, as the cited examples of what is wrong with today’s NBA player.  Absent from the list of “traitors” bandied about within the national media has been Steve Nash, who despite ample criticism from fans and media within Phoenix is not required to take the loyalty litmus test.

Charles Moriano sees the power of whiteness within these differential treatments from the national media:

To simply honor Nash’s greatness without studying the incredible white privilege that he receives is to disrespect and dishonor his NBA colleagues. Nash is not only the most under-criticized NBA superstar to never reach the finals, but his smooth escape to LA, candor about the importance of money, and bold statements on “no true loyalty in sports” with no national debate has redefined “Disney World” for Dwight Howard [1].

Allen knows better than to utter Nash’s words, and Lebron’s act (not manner) of joining other stars to chase a ring brought labels of “coward“, “fraud“, and “scared little kid” deserving of an “asterisk” on future titles — and that’s just one article! If Steve rides Kobe’s coattails to a title, will it be tainted? Will it even be debated?

Such actions from Black ballers are regularly met with “get-back-in-your-place-you-spoiled-ungrateful-fill-in-the-racial-code-word-blank” media backlash. Whereas Steve Nash seems to get a pass because he is doing it “for his kids,” the (black) ballers of the new generation are once again cast as selfish pollutants to the league.  

Whether citing loyalty or noting rivalries, owners, fans and sports media continually display their contempt for player movement?  While acknowledging the right of players to take their talents anywhere, Jemele Hill waxes nostalgically for a time where rivalries was part of the NBA fabric:

But I don't know if I'm comfortable with such cozy collaborations among supposedly irreconcilable foes becoming the norm in the NBA. If a player could so easily jump to a team that just beat him in the Eastern Conference Finals -- even if part of the motivation was sticking it to the team that tried to trade him -- that doesn't say much about the state of player and team rivalries in this league,” writes Hill.  “In-season rivalries haven't blocked career decisions in some time, but can you blame me for being Pollyannish and wishing that they still did?”

Players going from one team to a rival is nothing new – Rodman to Bulls and then the Lakers; Horace Grant to the Lakers; Karl Malone and Gary Payton to the Lakers; Robert Horry to the Lakers and then the Spurs; don’t forget Shaq?  Additionally, beyond presuming that the players have all the power in the process, why isn’t Hill and others demanding changes to the collective bargaining agreement, which encourages players to seek out big markets (to make money outside of the sports) all while limiting the ability to teams to retain its role players.  The failure to address these various issues reveals the discomfort and anxiety about (black) players determining their own futures, exercising power in the face of overwhelming white ownership, overwhelmingly white media commentators, and white fans.

One has to wonder if CBS or NBC asked any sports commentator to join their enterprise, would they cite loyalty in declining their offer?  Where is the outage at coaches that coach for rivals, CEOS that parachute from one company to the next, or companies that race to the bottom?  I know they are too busy lamenting Ray Allen to the Heat but the hypocrisy and double standards are thick. 

In 1970, Curt Flood’s life would forever changed and so would the American sports fabric when he wrote the following to Bowie Kuhn:

After twelve years in the major leagues, I do not feel that I am a piece of property to be bought and sold irrespective of my wishes.  I believe that any system which produces that result violates my basic rights as a citizen and is inconsistent with the laws of the United States and of the several States. It is my desire to play baseball in 1970, and I am capable of playing.  I have received a contract offer from the Philadelphia club, but I believe I have the right to consider offers from other clubs before making any decisions.  I, therefore, request that you make known to all Major League clubs my feelings in this matter, and advise them of my availability for the 1970 season (Flood, 194-195).

Denounced as disloyal, as leading to the destruction of baseball, as being selfish and everything wrong with athletes of his day, Flood’s courage brought about free agency across the sporting landscape.  One has to wonder how those who often celebrate Flood, who invoke his name as evidence of a once politically engaged athlete, can denounce and demonize the players who are merely standing on the shoulders of Flood and Spencer Haywood.  One has to wonder how the blogosphere, how the twitter generation, and how the 24-sports industry that spans ESPN and sports talk, would have treated Flood.  The contempt for player movement and the outrage directed at players who “take their talents” elsewhere is telling in this regard, begging the question of what is “free” in “free agency.”  

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He has written on sport, video games, film, and social movements, appearing in both popular and academic mediums. His work explores the political economy of popular culture, examining the interplay between racism, state violence, and popular representations through contextual, textual, and subtextual analysis.  Leonard’s latest book After Artest: Race and the Assault on Blackness was just published by SUNY Press.

* Paul Mooney

Why America Still Hates LeBron: The Natural, Horatio Alger & the Myth of Hard Work

Why America Still Hates LeBron: The Natural, Horatio Alger, & the Myth of  Hard Work

by John “JD” Roberts | special to NewBlackMan (in Exile)

As the dust settles on LeBron James winning his first NBA Championship, many Americans still dislike LeBron.  It is not even a debate-worthy topic anymore because many public opinion polls have overwhelmingly supported the idea that the general public dislikes James.  But why the hate?  By all accounts, LeBron is charitable, helps kids, loves his mama, does not appear disrespectful to his fiancée, and does not get in trouble with the law.  As a reformed LeBron hater myself, my dislike of LeBron has made me reassess America’s approach to sports and my own.  No matter how many wedding photos LeBron poses in, babies he burps, or little old ladies he helps cross the street, Americans outside of South Beach on the whole seem to not accept LeBron as their NBA superstar.  However, it is not simply because of “The Decision,” or as one guest pundit on NPR recently proposed, LeBron’s inappreciativeness, which in and of itself is (probably) a misperception.  Instead, LeBron is a victim of his own identity, an extraordinarily gifted black athlete that America has perceived as not having worked hard to get where he has gotten in the NBA.

At St. Vincent-St. Mary High School in Akron, Ohio, LeBron exploded onto the scene as a freshman, averaging 21 points a game.  As he progressed through high school, he improved his game and stats steadily as he grew into his eventual 6’8”, 250 pound frame.  Tracked by Five Star and playing in the AAU circuit, early on he was well known, establishing himself as an athletic talent able to dominate his competition.  While comparisons of any athlete to Michael Jordan are often unfair, there is one comparison here to LeBron that is quite illustrative.  Even (and I would argue especially) when Jordan was at the height of his playing career, dominating his competition on the way to six NBA Championships, announcers obsessively brought up Jordan’s struggles and hard work to make his high school basketball team.  The level of adversity he experienced and the hard work Jordan put in to make his high school varsity team hides the fact that he had a growth spurt between his sophomore and junior year and regularly ran roughshod on his junior varsity competition in his sophomore year.  That part of the narrative does not complement the overall goals of the media’s message to its audience, one which the average American audience always wants to hear: stars like Michael Jordan got to the pinnacle of their professions through hard work, adversity, perseverance and dedication. 

While LeBron James’s early personal life presented him with plenty of adversity off the court, his “athletic life” was never a problem.  He was on the radar of college and NBA scouts since junior high school.  Some people like LeBron James are naturally gifted athletes.  Some people like Michael Jordan are naturally gifted athletes, but also have the historical narrative on their side of hard work and adversity.  Some people are the underdogs, and those are truly the most beloved athletes in America, almost wallowing and basking in the accidental glory of their hard work and adversity.  Why is America so hard on the naturally talented athlete though?

Obviously, the American public can identify with an underdog and cannot readily identify with a superiorly gifted athlete.[1]  Additionally, the naturally gifted athlete has often been historically derided as surly, having a bad attitude toward their chosen sport, or taking their athletic blessing for granted.  LeBron’s media image should not be compared to the “bad boy” of yesterday he mimicked, Charles Barkley, in his own Nike Role Model Campaign, but mirrors the likes of say, Wilt Chamberlain or Jim Brown.  All three were/are naturally gifted athletes that excelled in their sports in a seemingly effortless fashion.  These gifted athletes were standoffish at times and made their respective games seem easy for them.  When players like this fail, their failure is celebrated, much like Wilt Chamberlain’s celebrated failures against the serious and studious Bill Russell, or LeBron failing against the more “elegant” game of Dirk Nowitzki.  “The Natural” fails in the face of the more studious, elegant, and supposedly hard working cerebral opponent.  Raw natural talent is not earned, but is a gift, and when it fails, it is equivalent to man defeating a machine.  The machine does not have to work hard to excel or “know” what to do.[2]  Therefore, when the machine (or in this case, the naturally gifted athlete) is defeated, the defeat is always celebrated as a defeat in favor of humanity (which is imperfect) over perceived perfection (machine, or in this case, the naturally gifted athlete). 

It does not matter that LeBron has dedicated himself to hone his skills through practice and hard work.  LeBron James could not excel in the NBA by only driving to the hoop for a dunk or a layup and bulldozing his opponents.  If that was LeBron’s only strategy, defensive schemes could be crafted by NBA tacticians to stop him.  He has had to craft a jumpshot, free throws, and moves in the lane through many years of practice, and he has conditioned his body through training and weightlifting.  His hard work is superseded by his body; an impossibly strong, agile and swift body that happens to be black.

If LeBron were white, he would be venerated as a freak of nature.  He would be an awesome dominant force that had inexplicably been born to dominate the NBA, and the NBA fans would love him for it.  It would not matter how much work he had put into his game, because he would be a white superman that dominated his opposition effortlessly.  His decision to take his talents to South Beach might be lauded as a shrewd decision in his search for a championship and better marketing opportunities.  Instead he (along with many other black athletes, particularly in the NBA and NFL) has been seen as an extraordinary talent in a long line of naturally gifted black athletes.  African Americans have attained the stereotypes in the second half of the 20^th century as (always) fast, (always) strong, and (always) able to jump high. 

These stereotypes on the surface seem favorable or benign, but they are not, because they make black Americans who cannot do these things less than the stereotypical “average,” and reduce blackness to physical attributes and athletic performance.  In this case, ideas of supposed black “natural gifts” are again deleterious and destructive, but in an opposite direction from the naturally gifted athlete, hemming black Americans into a box of athletic superiority, a role impossible to achieve for most.  Whiteness has been tied in sports to hard work and work ethic, while blackness has not.  Instead, blackness has been linked to natural ability, which is somehow (coincidentally?) inferior in the minds of American fans.

In many ways, LeBron’s life has mimicked Bernard Malamud’s book The Natural.  Roy Hobbs experiences a miraculous baseball season fifteen years after he was shot by Harriet Bird.  With his team the New York Knights, he performs superhuman feats on the baseball diamond after he takes over for the Knights’ former star Bump.  As Hobbs’s fame and profile grow, journalist Max Mercy seeks to discover what is really the story behind Roy Hobbs.  In the end of the book, corrupted by his desire for fame and wealth, and concerned about his own glory, Hobbs reneges on throwing the baseball game and tries to win, but strikes out anyway.  Throughout the book, Hobbs is infatuated by a beautiful woman named Memo who barely likes him over a woman named Iris who loves him dearly.  How does this book (notice the now famous Robert Redford movie adaptation is MUCH different than the book) compare to LeBron’s situation?  No matter how the public feels about the appropriateness of “The Decision,” LeBron spurned Cleveland to seek more fame and glory with another team (Memo vs Iris). 

In the 2011 NBA Finals against the Dallas Mavericks, he became so worried with the weight of failure that he disappeared in the 4^th quarter of those games and averaged well below his season average points per game (worried about his name and his own glory, Hobbs strikes out).  After The Decision, it is obvious that LeBron is consumed with how the American public sees him (Hobbs wants to be loved by Memo and she does not love him back).  His commercials for kids staying in school, the highlighted charity work (including The Decision money going to charity), the half-hearted Nike Role Model Campaign, and the impromptu posing with people in their wedding photos all smacks of a man who wants to be liked by a public that will not accept his overtures.  LeBron has been lauded all his life for his extraordinary natural talents, but he has recently come to the realization that despite those accolades, people seem to not like him.  Is it because of his talents he took to South Beach, or his personality?        

I would argue that the hard work and/or adversity narratives are what LeBron has lacked until recently.  The 2011 NBA Finals loss by LeBron and the Miami Heat provided the adversity needed for his 2012 NBA Finals win, leading to what I predict will be LeBron’s eventual “redemption” with the American public over time.  Americans require hard work and adversity to legitimate their love of superstar athletes, but where does this need originate?  

The need to overcome something through hard work and adversity is seemingly encoded in America’s DNA.  It does not matter how authentic the narrative really is for America’s historical trajectory.  From Frederick Jackson Turner’s “The Significance of the Frontier in American History,” to Hollywood, to the more formative influences of Horatio Alger’s youth books, America has hungered to believe that hard work, adversity, “rugged individualism,” and a little bit of luck have made America great.[3]  One could argue that Horatio Alger’s Ragged Dick series has done as much harm as it has good to American political and social thought.  Alger’s late 19^th century books for young adults followed a set formula of young boys gaining wealth and status in society through hard work and overcoming adversity, rising out of their unfortunate circumstances, sometimes with the help of some good fortune or fortuitous coincidences (think pulling oneself up by the bootstraps).  While it demonstrates the infinite optimism of what can happen through hard work and determination in America, it also deludes some, often associates hard work primarily with those who have not, and negatively affects those who have not achieved success in their working lives. 

Does the coal miner work as hard as the successful entrepreneur?  The most important point in the case of LeBron though is the association of the have nots with hard work.  The consequence of this idea is questioning those naturally gifted individuals’ (intelligence, athleticism, appearance) work ethic.  If one’s work ethic is questioned, one’s status as “deserving it” is questioned.  America rejects those viewed as not “deserving it.”  Therefore, America up until this point has rejected LeBron James as their NBA superstar. 

Having come to the end of this article and realizing I might have written what could be perceived as Atlas Shrugged: The Athlete’s Edition, I would like to instead reiterate my main point, which are the fallacies America has created when it comes to pro sports.  Extraordinary athletes like LeBron James have been groomed early in their high school careers based on their natural abilities, and then are faulted for their status as venerated athletes when they eventually turn pro. 

The very system of sports, which has created an unfathomable amount of wealth for owners and athletes, is fed by the dollars of the average working stiff/fan, who believes NBA players like Brian Scalabrine work harder than LeBron James because one player is more like them than the other.  Narratives are constructed to demonstrate how each athlete deserves to be where they are, regardless of the truth behind that narrative or the narrative’s motivations.  These narratives are historically constructed by American circumstance, which includes a heavy dose of racism, classism, Social Darwinism, and Horatio Alger tales along the way.  The construction of these narratives often does not favor black athletes, and definitely does not favor a superiorly gifted black athlete like LeBron James. 

Players get built up by the media and the fans to be summarily torn down for not working hard enough, not having enough heart, or not having enough natural ability as they get older.  If I had anything to tell LeBron James, it would be to keep working hard, stay out of trouble, and let the haters (like myself, before I reformed) hate.  No matter what LeBron does, it will be the media and the American public that constructs his historical narrative for him.                                                  

              

***

John (J.D.) Roberts is a PhD student in the History Dept at UMass-Amherst. He focuses on drug trafficking history in Latin America, but has researched and written on a wide array of issues globally, particularly globalization and illegality.

---

[1] Perhaps the 13 Colonies’ underdog status against Mother England in the American Revolution kickstarted America’s affinity to the underdog, even though we are now (and still) the world’s hegemon.

[2] The Legend of John Henry for instance would actually equate LeBron James to the steam powered hammer instead of John Henry.

[3] For FJT’s “Frontier Thesis,” see: http://xroads.virginia.edu/~HYPER/TURNER/

Covering the #Fail: The NBA, Sports Reporting & the United Hater Nation

Covering the #Fail: The NBA, Sports Reporting & the United Hater Nation

by David J. Leonard | NewBlackMan

I have lost that lovin' feeling.  Already a recovering baseball, football, and college sports fan, I am slowly starting to hate the NBA.  Don’t get me wrong – I love the game; there is nothing like a crisp bounce pass, a thunderous dunk, an ankle-breaking crossover, a fadeaway jumper, and a last second shot.  Nothing compares to the beauty of the NBA game, or its excitement, competitiveness, and unpredictability.  No other sport can compare when it comes to artistry and memorable moments: MJ’s jumper over Bryon Russell, Magic’s baby hook, Reggie’s 8 points in 9 seconds, Kobe’s alley-oop to Shaq, Robert Horry/Derek Fisher, and that is just a few playoff moments.  Just think: Iverson’s crossover, Duncan’s bank shot, the Dream shake. Shaq’s rim tattlers, Ray Allen’s jumper, Gervin’s finger roll, and MJ/Kobe’s baseline jumper.  The sight of LeBron James or Kevin Durant getting in the zone is not simply greatness personified but pure beauty.  Perfection, beauty, and timeless are the words I would use to describe the NBA yet I have lost that lovin' feeling. 

My waning love isn’t about the hypocrisy of a league that sells its products through hip-hop at the same time it disparages and regulates its presence.  It isn’t about an overzealous commissioner who vetoes trades for basketball reasons or even the league’s racial and class politics.  It isn’t about greedy owners and the treatment of players.  I have long come to grips with my discomfort, remaining a fan in spite of these troubling realities for the love of the game.  Yet, that love doesn’t feel eternal.

The last week of the playoffs has highlighted my growing unease with basketball, which has nothing to do with the players, the league, or even basketball.  I am starting to hate watching the NBA (and sports in general) because of the media, fans, and the cultural politics of blame.  Upon the conclusion of several playoff games, commentators and fans alike immediately took to their respective platforms to blame players for a loss, to disparage, mock, and otherwise ridicule these great athletes.  It is not just the glee the results from THEIR loss, but the pleasure in denigrating and disrespecting another person’s hard work and artistry that is killing my love softly and slowly, especially during the playoffs.  

The Pacers’ victory over the Heat didn’t produce praise for Indiana’s squad or celebration of a clutch performance from David West or Roy Hibbert but endless statements from the UHN – United Hater Nation.  Blaming LeBron, D-Wade, Spoelstra, Riley, and the role players, the post-game banter focused on player failures, player shortcomings, and worse yet the inadequacies of the players – “he isn’t clutch; he is mentally weak; he is selfish; he is to blame for the loss.”  What happened to who is responsible for the win?  What happened to celebration and acknowledgment of the greatness of players evident in the victory?  In victory and loss, the politics of blame imagines players as robots deserving condemnation when they don’t perform as expected. 

Even James’ historic performance in Game 6 of the Eastern Conference Finals did not silence every critic with questions raised as to whether he could play at the level in a 4^th quarter with the score tied, or whether or not he had the mental toughness to make that last 2^nd shot.  I am surprise he wasn’t criticized for not having 25 assists along with his 45 points.  Where is the love?

The postgame commentary following game 2 (and likely game 4) between the Lakers and Thunder was no different in terms of the blame game, although it included death threats directed at Steve Blake.  With debates about who was responsible for the Lakers inability to close and secure in those games (Kobe, Pau, Bynum, Coach Brown, role players; Jim Buss??) few even acknowledged the execution from the Thunder.  The Thunder won that game and would ultimately win 4 games.  The Thunder execution when it counted was amazing, especially for the young and untested team from OKC.  That continued into the Spurs series.  Yet, in many instances, the exceptional play of the Thunder and all its players hasn’t been the focus from the media and fans on social media given the dominance of the culture of blame, uber criticism, and the haters that dominate the NBA landscape. 

What is worse and certainly more corrosive to sport culture is the joy and pleasure fans and even sports media pundits take from watching others fail.  The number of tweets and online cheap shots that pop up at the conclusion of any number of games devalues the game.  At the conclusion of the Heat and Lakers’ games, non-Heat and non-Thunder fans have taken to twitter to celebrate the loss; that is, their failure to win combined with individual struggles (missed shots; not taking shots), seems to the basis of fandom.  Pleasure increasingly comes from calling LeBron a “choker” and “mentally” weak leaves me to wonder what will commentators and fans talk about on those when he delivers 40 and 18.  When Kobe scored 81 against the Raptors many critics chastised him for shooting too much and only getting a few assists; surely some even scoffed on fact that he didn’t score 82.  No time to praise and celebrate when there is criticism to be leveled.

If LeBron and Kobe ended world hunger, these folks would criticize them for taking too long.  Combine the blame game and name-calling with the joy and pleasure derived from other’s pain and suffering and you can see not only everything that is wrong with what surrounds today’s NBA culture but our mean-spirited culture.

Haters are nothing new; fans and media that power and power pleasure in criticizing is as old as the game it self.  Yet, with 24-7 sports networks, countless debate shows, and talk radio, the blame game rules the day.  As with America’s political culture, defined by partisan commentators blaming politicians for societal problems and politicians scapegoating other politicians and the people themselves for larger issues, the politics of sports blame creates a climate where the post-game commentary has become more important than the game itself.  The similarities are striking and disturbing at so many levels.  Whereas Republicans blame regulation and government for unemployment; whereas the Right blames a culture of poverty or the lack of a work ethic for persistent poverty; whereas the GOP blames teachers for educational shortcomings, unions for budgetary issues; and the Left for value changes; and whereas society blames hip-hop and scapegoats community of color for __________ (fill in blank with any social ill or problem), I want sports to be something different. 

But in many ways it is not any different.  In terms of its replicating society’s ills, embracing its politics, its celebration of victory/$ over anything else and embracing of a politics of hate and blame, sports is no escape.  In absence of something to hate on, a player to blame, it is almost as if sports cannot exist just as the game itself. 

In an effort to reclaim my love for basketball and avoid the trap of blaming others for my changing relationship with my national pastime, I have decided to make that change.  No more debate shows; no more Sports Center spotlight segments, and no more commentaries – post-game twitter is now off limits.  Nothing but the game and me.  I may even begin to watch the game on mute so that the beauty of the game, the greatness of the players, and their commitment to excellence will be fully visible without the corrupting voices of sensationalism and haters.  Just basketball and me. 

Just me and CP3’s competitiveness; just me and Kevin Durant’s clutch 3; just me and the beauty of the Spurs versatility; just me and LeBron James dribbling through defenses, powering up for another layup; just me and the Pacers defense; just me and KG’s longevity; just me and harden’s sweet left hand; just me and the potential of Dru Holiday, Darren Collison, and Russell Westbrook; just me and Kobe’s and Wade’s greatness.  Just me and clutch shots from “The Truth” and James Harden.  Just me and LeBron in the zone. Just me and those post-game glasses; just me and a fantastic game. 

The game is too beautiful, and the game is too exciting, unpredictable, and unscripted to do anything but just sit back and love this game.  Let the haters hate, the blamers blame, and those whose very existence is predicative on telling people what to hate, ridicule, and fear, because I will be watching the NBA, a beautiful game indeed.  Just in the couple days since putting the blame game and the haters on mute, I already got that lovin' feeling back.  Silence is golden!

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He has written on sport, video games, film, and social movements, appearing in both popular and academic mediums. His work explores the political economy of popular culture, examining the interplay between racism, state violence, and popular representations through contextual, textual, and subtextual analysis.  Leonard’s latest book After Artest: Race and the Assault on Blackness was just published by SUNY Press.

No Heir Jordan: The NBA Lockout and the End of an Era

No Heir Jordan: The NBA Lockout and the End of an Era

by David Leonard | NewBlackMan

The NBA lockout is over.  With the players and the owners having reached an agreement, basketball will return beginning Christmas Day.   Ushering in substantial structural changes to the league, which will likely restrict player movement and constrain middle-class player salaries, the NBA lockout will also go down in history as an end to the search for the next Michael Jordan.  Since MJ’s retirement, the league, its marketing partners, and fans alike have pinned for someone to fill his AIR Jordans.  Each anointed as the next Michael Jordan, Penny Hardaway, Grant Hill, Vince Carter and Harold Miner (“Baby Jordan”) all failed to deliver because of injuries, limited production, or a combination of both.  Each in their own right was imagined as a player who could fill the shoes, whose talents, charisma, and athleticism would propel the NBA during its post-Jordan era.  None of them met these expectations resulting in an NBA in continued search for a twenty-first century basketball God.    

Kobe Bryant and LeBron James each took the mantle of the next Jordan to places none of the other NMJ (next Michael Jordan) had reached.  Kobe, because of his talents, the ways in which he patterned his game and demeanor after Jordan, his quest for rings, and most importantly his competitiveness, all elevated the comparisons, leading many to argue that he was the NMJ.  Yet because of Eagle County, Colorado, because of his conflicts with Shaquille O’Neal and the ultimate demise of the Lakers Dynasty, and because he is said to have demanded to get out of Los Angeles, Kobe has fallen short in other’s quest to find the next Michael Jordan.  Like Kobe, LeBron James has delivered on the court, dazzling fans with his passing skills, his athleticism, and his ability to make his teammates better.  Worse than struggling to secure a title, LeBron James fall short in the MJ sweepstakes when he decided to take his talents to South Beach.

While possessing the skills, charisma, and baller potential, the two most promising players to lead the NBA, to build upon the global popularity established by Jordan, have fallen short not because of their basketball talents but their inability (or our inability) to fill mythical shoes.  The quest to find the Next Michael Jordan, thus, has nothing to do with basketball but rather is part of an effort to find a player who reinforces popular narratives about the American Dream, the protestant work ethnic, and post-racialness. 

Jordan, only seen in public in his basketball uniform or a $3,000-dollar suit, Jordan embodied the politics of racial respectability on and off the court.  He “allow[ed] us to believe what we wish to believe: that in this country, have-nots can still become haves; that the American dream is still working” (Ken Naughton quoted in Andrews 2000, p. 175).  David Falk, Jordan’s agent, celebrated the dialectics between his dominance in the marketplace, his worldwide popularity, and racial identity in illustrative ways:

When players of color become stars they are no longer perceived as being of color.  The color sort of vanishes.  I don’t think people look at Michael Jordan anymore and say he’s a black superstar.  They say he’s a superstar.  They totally accepted him into the mainstream.  Before he got there he might have been African American, but once he arrived, he had such a high level of acceptance that I think that description goes away (Quoted in Rhoden, 2006, p. 204). 

Amid the 1980s and 1990s, amid Reagan’s dismantling of America’s safety net and his elevation of the War on Drugs, Jordan provided more than a wicked jump shot, playing a lead role in the Republican Revolution.  He was “cast as a spectacular talent, midsized, well-spoken, attractive, accessible, old-time values, wholesome, clean, natural, not too goody-two shoes, without a bit of deviltry in him” (Falk quoted in Andrews 2001, p. 125).   Imagined as emblematic of the power and importance of  “personal drive, responsibility, integrity, and success,” as opposed to “the stereotypical representations of deviant, promiscuous, and irresponsible black males,” Jordan’s racially transcendent, colorblind-driven, raceless image was always tied to racial language.  He represented the possibility of acceptance by whites (racial transcendence), which meant he was able to “transcend his own race” (Rhoden 2006, p. 204), or better said, constraints of the “facts of blackness.” 

The longstanding struggle for the next Jordan has been a journey in search of the next the  “Africanized Horatio Alger” (Patton quoted in McDonald, 2001, p. 157) to lead the NBA.  The search has failed in part because of the inability of the next generation of players to fulfill the imagined narrative and qualities associated with Jordan.  Michael Jordan was the leader of an “army of athletes who possess the (new) right stuff with modest beginnings, skill, and personal determination” (McDonald 2001, p.157).  In the dominant imagination, these recent players lack “the right stuff,” leading to a paradigm shift facilitated by the 2011 lockout. 

The recent celebration of Kevin Durant illustrates how the search for America’s next Michael Jordan has little to do with basketball and is all about the narrative, the ideology, and the overall mythical representation embodied by Jordan.  David Heeb, in “NBA Lockout 2011: Searching for the Next Michael Jordan,” encapsulates the narrative and ideological elements central to the proverbial MJ Search:

So after all these years, we are still looking for "The Next Jordan."  Will we ever see another player that great?  Maybe not, but the first thing we have to understand is, when looking for "The Next Jordan," we have to stop looking for guys that look like Jordan.  Instead, we have to look at what made Jordan tick.  What made him burn to be great?  We all know the story of how he was cut from his high school basketball team, and how he couldn't beat his older brother Larry in the backyard one-one games they would play.  We all heard the Hall of Fame speech, where Jordan recalled how he remembered even the slightest challenges to his greatness.  Michael Jordan was the kind of guy that got out of bed every morning looking for a challenge.  He looked for hurdles to jump over.  He searched for mountains to climb.  If there were no worthy opponents, he just invented insults, so he could say he had to prove himself all over again . . . . That doesn't change the fact that Kevin Durant might be "Next." Jordan had a "love of the game" clause in his contract, permitting him to play pickup basketball whenever he wanted to.  Durant, like Jordan, loves the game.  He will play anytime, anyplace, and against anybody.  We have seen him this summer playing pickup basketball all across the country.

Despite the purported potential of Durant to be the heir to Jordan, the NBA has transcended the struggle for the NMJ. 

The NBA lockout, with its efforts to systematically change the system, will end the quest for the next Michael Jordan.  In an attempt to remake the league in the fashion of the NFL (despite the significant differences between the leagues), the NBA has traded in the marketed superstar for greater parity and emphasis on team rivalries.  The greatness of Jordan (and Magic, Bird, Kobe, Tim Duncan, and even Dr. J) came not just from their individual greatness but because they were all part of dynasties.  At a basketball level, the ability of teams to bring together the level of talent that surrounded these great players will nullified by the future collective bargaining agreement. 

The systemic changes resulting from the 2011 lockout will not only curtail the ascendance of superstars who build their legacies through dynasties but reflects the league’s abandonment of a star driven league.  The inability of LeBron, Kobe and Carmelo to attract Jordan level fan support prompted such a change. The fears that Durant, Dwight Howard, Chris Paul, Blake Griffin, and Derrick Rose might follow in their footsteps guided the lockout.  In the end, the presumed failures of the players to deliver off the court contributed to this shift.  The low q-ratings of these players, and claims about player betrayals of fans mandated a system change that has traded a league organized around superstars to one more focused on parity and competitiveness. 

With these changes, the league no longer needs another MJ; better said, the league seems to have decided that it could no longer wait for a player who could dominate on the court and appeal to the masses of the court.    More importantly, given the ideological shifts that have led to increasingly visible racism and the complete destruction of the public safety net, society at large no longer needs a Michael Jordan to justify the abandonment of the 99% - that, like the search for the next MJ, is a wrap. 

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David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He has written on sport, video games, film, and social movements, appearing in both popular and academic mediums. His work explores the political economy of popular culture, examining the interplay between racism, state violence, and popular representations through contextual, textual, and subtextual analysis. He is the author of Screens Fade to Black: Contemporary African American Cinema and the forthcoming After Artest: Race and the War on Hoop (SUNY Press). Leonard is a regular contributor to NewBlackMan and blogs @ No Tsuris.

Jay Smooth: "How Lebron Broke the Golden Rule of Sports"

LeBron James and the Redemptive Path to Nowhere

LeBron James and the Redemptive Path to Nowhere

by David Leonard and Bruce Lee Hazelwood | special to NewBlackMan

As Game 4 of the 2011 NBA Finals came to a close on another last second shot, Dwyane Wade and Dirk Nowitzki were praised for carrying their respective teams. The celebration of Nowitzki has been especially robust given his reported illness, a fact that has been used to celebrate his performance as heroic, as a sign of his toughness, and as evidence of his talents as a leader.

LeBron James, on the other hand, endured another bout of criticism from fans, media, and players alike. After Game 3, where LeBron had a stat line that included 17 points, 9 assists and 3 rebounds, Greg Doyle asked LeBron about his “shrinking” in the 4th quarter. Notwithstanding LeBron’s dismissal of the question,  Doyel maintained this line of criticism in his column the following day, writing:

When someone makes a movie of the fourth quarter, they can cast Rick Moranis as LeBron James and call it Honey, I Shrunk the Superstar.

That's what I'll remember about James from Game 3. His shrinkage, and how it continued a series of shrinkages. I asked him about that after Game 3. I asked him, pretty much word-for-word, how come he hasn't been playing like a superstar in the fourth quarter? What's going on with that? James played the defensive-stopper card. That's why he's out there, you know. For his defense. He's not a latter-day Michael Jordan. He's a latter-day Dudley Bradley.

Doyel proceeds to criticize James for “complaining” to referees, whining, and otherwise having a “bitter-beer face” when he doesn’t get his way on the court, only to conclude his article by highlighting an instance where James didn’t get a foul call not because there was a foul but because he isn’t a superstar: “Maybe the officials are onto something. Maybe LeBron James isn't a superstar. If the 2011 NBA Finals were the only games I had seen him play, that would be my conclusion. Doyel, especially after Game 4, is not alone in his criticism. Jordan Shultz, in “ LeBron James Shows True Colors In Game 4 Disappearance ” identifies his Game 4 struggles are not an aberration but evidence of his ineptitude and shortcomings as a player: “Wade is in essence, everything James is not. He has the will, the fire and the assassin's nature that LeBron lacks.”

This criticism is nothing new and demonstrates how LeBron James cannot win. In wins (Game 3) and losses (Game 4), he has been reduced to a failure, a punching bag for America’s sports punditry. Ever since the ill-fated “Decision,” praise for James seems to shrink every day while criticism of his game continues to overshadow his contributions to his team. In a season where perception is James is “on the road to redemption,” questions need to be asked. How can redemption be gained if he can do no right? Who is LeBron James really redeeming? And in the end, is LeBron James really trying for redemption?

Since joining the Heat, James has faced criticism at both ends of the spectrum: go for 35-12-10 and he’s hogging the ball, but go 15-9-8 and he isn’t doing enough. With Wade and Chris Bosh on the team, he either doesn’t involve the other two superstars enough or defers to them too much. He is the walking embodiment of the longstanding criticism that has always plagued black athletes living amid American racism: too selfish or unable to lead. This highlights the power of the white racial frame, one that renders black bodies as undesirable and suspect, with the impossibility of redemption. In that James will face criticism irrespective of his on-the-court performance – if he shoots the last shot and misses, he lacks the “killer instinct”/ he is selfish and should have passed the ball to Wade (this was a criticism after Game 2 where James was questioned for not deferring to Wade who had it going); if he passes the ball, he is depicted as mentally weak, scared, and otherwise unable to lead.

What is underlying much of this criticism is a false comparison to a reimagined Jordan. The nostalgia for Jordan as post-racial, as team player, as unselfish, and as God-like illustrate the impossibility of James meeting these expectations. Whereas Jordan in retirement has been reconstituted as a leader, as a fundamentally perfect player who was driven by team success and not individual accomplishment, James, as an embodiment of  Thabiti Lewis’ “baller of new school,” has no possibility of becoming the next Michael Jordan. Given the ways in which black players are scolded and demonized for ego, James, despite his unselfishness, despite his willingness to defer to Wade, pass to Chris Bosh, and set-up Mario Chalmers is unable to transcend the confined meaning of blackness. In actuality, in 2011, Michael Jordan likely couldn’t be the next Michael Jordan.

More than his “struggles” on the court, James cannot win because he cannot be Michael Jordan. And he cannot be Michael Jordan because LeBron does not fulfill a post-racial fantasy. LeBron does not embody what David Falk celebrated in Michael Jordan: “When players of color become stars they are no longer perceived as being of color. The color sort of vanishes. I don’t think people look at Michael Jordan anymore and say he’s a black superstar. They say he’s a superstar. They totally accepted him into the mainstream. Before he got there he might have been African American, but once he arrived, he had such a high level of acceptance that I think that description goes away.”

His tattoos, his decision to hire his longstanding friends to guide his career, “The Decision,”  his insertion of race into the post-Cavs discourse, his acceptance of the anti-hero role, his “What should I do?” Commercial for Nike, and even his response to Greg Doyel where he told him to “watch the film again” so he could “ask me a better question tomorrow” all contribute to a path not paved by Jordan toward racial redemption but one more travelled by many black athletes: one of derision, contempt, criticism, and scrutiny. “The irony of the connection between Willie Horton, O.J. Simpson, and Tookie Williams, and Michael Jordan, LeBron James, Allen Iverson, and Latrell Sprewell, along with most of the black NBA superstars of today is that, as easily as the first three, like so many countless criminalized black male bodies in the United States are denied social and moral redemption because of their race, their presumed inherent transgression, and the need of the American public to reify much of its racist (il)logic,” writes Lisa Guerrero from Leonard and King’s  Criminalized and Commodified. While LeBron as member of the Cavs, as a potential savior (of the NBA; of the Jordan legacy; of Cleveland) had the potential to “redeem us, to maintain our sense of ourselves as a nation that is righteous, equal, and free, and to allow us to continue dreaming the American Dream,” that potential is gone. The narrative of his “failure” redeems us; the hegemonic claims about the righteousness of others and the steps LeBron must take to be saved is a celebration of the system not him.

In terms of the second question – is this his “road to redemption”—we must be clear. LeBron James appears to be disinterested in redeeming himself – a central perquisite in the history of race in America. The parameters of his redemption have been set not by James but by the media and fans. With this in mind, it then becomes impossible for James to gain redemption in the public eye because he will never buy into the parameters set before him. LeBron James is in the continuous struggle of playing by his rules on a court/in a society where everyone but him is setting the rules of the game. Worse, yet, the rules change with each game. “If, as today’s writers lament, LeBron doesn’t want to take over the game, that should be praised, not derided,” writes  Dave Zirin . “Basketball at its best is a beautiful game: a team game. As long as LeBron keeps playing the game as it comes, he will be a champion. He doesn’t have to settle for being the next Jordan.” Irrespective of whether he takes over a game or not, James will be criticized because he can’t be “like Mike” – on the court, maybe, but in the national imagination, never!

For LeBron James, there is no need for redemption. In his eyes, he did what he wanted to do and there is no regret. He wanted to play with his friends and he ended up signing with a team allowing him to do this. While many black athletes strive to reach the summit of Jordan-like acceptance, they fail to see even what Jordan failed to see: no matter what they do or how much money or how many endorsement deals they sign or how they make their respective leagues profitable with immense cultural capital, they are still black bodies in America. James made clear last year that there is little he can do to redeem himself as Michael Jordan. In his “Rise” Nike Commercial, he asks,

What should I do?

Should I tell you I’m a championship chaser?

I did it for the money, rings?

Maybe I should just disappear

As evident in LeBron’s inability to outrun the leadership and selfish trope that defines America’s sports racial history and thus his inability to find solace on a path to redemption, there is nothing LeBron can do. His experiences demonstrate that so long as (white) fans and (white) commentators resent his talent, his choices, his attitude, his swagger, his motivations, his blackness, he is dammed. Not only cannot he not be Michael Jordan or as good as Michael Jordan (sorry Scottie Pippen) in the national imagination but he will continue to face a barrage of criticism for his every move. The black body is continuously subjected to mainstream notions of what it means to be black in a white society all while managing how and working to control those same bodies. Championships or not; 45 points or 8; 25 assists or 2, LeBron James will forever be remembered with the sentence, “Yeah, LeBron could ball, but…”

Post-script 

Despite securing a triple double in game 5, the criticisms directed at LeBron continue to mount. Described as hallow, disinterested, quiet, and otherwise ineffective, securing the 29th triple double in NBA final history did little to silence those critics who continued to focus on his leadership and play in “clutch minutes.” Treating the 4th quarter like a game of “Hot Shot,” where the points are worth double, these critics ignores LeBron’s success throughout the game in an effort to undercut his contributions all while advancing a narrative about his lack of leadership, mental toughness, and “the clutch gene.” Makes one wonder what the critics would say if he did not score, rebound or get his teammates for the first 42 minutes of the game only to amass 17-10-10 in the final 6 minutes. 

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor of Comparative Ethnic Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He has written on sport, video games, film, and social movements, appearing in both popular and academic mediums. His work explores the political economy of popular culture, examining the interplay between racism, state violence, and popular representations through contextual, textual, and subtextual analysis. He is the author of Screens Fade to Black: Contemporary African American Cinema and the forthcoming After Artest: Race and the War on Hoop (SUNY Press).