Reflections External

So another fun filled sports weekend has passed. The NBA sure knows how to give their audience a good bang for their buck. And there’s a little something for everyone. ‘Read to Achieve’ for the kids, ‘NBA Cares’ for people who want to believe that players “give back” to the community, and for the thugs…well, there’s always the regular
season, where things like players pulling guns on each other in the locker room, and other on-court/off-court violence happens. And last but not least, for jaded conspiracy theorist assholes, such as myself, there’s the motto of “NBA: Where rigged games happen”. Any yet, as the old saying goes, I love this game. Game, yes. Politics, no. And the NBA (like all other pro sports associations) is all about politics. I remember asking one of my “insider” homies what it was like when they scooped up these young, talented players from the ‘hood. What kind of preparation for their impending fame and acclaim did they get? If they came from violent environments, was that ever acknowledged? He
informed me that to the best of his knowledge, the “life training” portion of their early training consisted of taking the players to a bar, where some of the illest, most bangin’ women were on the prowl, and letting the players flirt with them and exchange numbers and things of that nature (that is to say, no sex), and in the morning informing the horny players that these women were decoys, who were HIV positive. The moral of the story: watch out for hot women that hit on you…because they might have AIDS….so you should really wear a condom. The End.

Yes, that is a very important lesson to learn. But then I’m always amazed by Commissioner Stern’s reaction to the violent outbreaks by players. “We are shocked and disappointed.” Word? Well, I’m “angry and repulsed” by your shock and disappointment. I don’t know…shit is deep. It’s big business and there are many layers to it. It’s hard to see it in just one light. I love the essence of team sports. And sometimes in the moment, you actually feel like you’re a part of
something. But then the moment passes, and your favorite player gets traded, and your team has a losing streak… Or you get into one of those conversations with a friend about how the NBA (or any other pro sports association/league) is like modern day slavery… Frankly, that conversation could go on for days. And nothing I could say in this
blog would be as brilliantly put or to the point as one of my favorite books, “Forty Million Dollar Slaves” by William Rhoden.


If you love sports, and have never read this…it might just change your life….

“So our cheering assumed a deeper meaning: we were cheering for our very survival. Black athletes became our psychological armor, markers of our progress, tangible proof of our worth, evidence of our collective Soul. Our athletes threw punches we couldn’t throw, won races we couldn’t run. Any competition or public showing involving an
African American was seen as a test for us all; the job of the athlete was to represent The Race. This was a heavy burden on one hand, but at the same time it represented a noble, time-worn responsibility. You always represented.”

The End.

by third rail

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~ by livefromheadqcourterz on February 17, 2010.

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