Adjusting for Era

ROUGH JUSTICE: It occurred to me while watching Bill Belichick: A Football Life that, were Alexander the Great born today, he would end up in pro sports. Or Wall Street, I guess.

OIL CAN SAMSON: Except wasn't he basically tiny and not much of a specimen?

RJ: Right, but coaching.

OCS: Oh, you mean like how Mark Jackson would've conquered Persia a couple centuries ago.

RJ: HANDS DOWN, LANDS DOWN!

OCS: MAMA THERE GOES THAT MONGOL!

RJ: Red Auerbach would have conquered the known world.



RJ: Shaq certainly would have been a Goliath-type character.

OCS: "David, tell me how mine ass tasteth!"

RJ: And everyone would have laughed, because they would have been malnourished and 5'4" and he would have been fucking terrifying to behold.

OCS: Yup. He eats two steaks, cracks a fair to good joke, everyone goes home and starves a little more.



RJ: Do you think the visigoths got Rome because someone like David Kahn ended up in charge of Rome's defenses?¹

1: Turns out Honorius was the emperor at the time.

OCS: Nah. Just too many Urkels in their Legion.

RJ: "Man, how about that city-state of Buffalo in the early 90s? They seiged the shit out of everybody, but just couldn't seal the deal!"

OCS: "No one had an answer for their no-huddle warships!"

RJ: I can certainly see Tom Brady ending up as a Homeric figure. Or Kobe, for that matter.

OCS: Somehow I can't Dan Marino, though. Just how his face looks.

RJ: Yeah, I had the same apprehensions about Peyton Manning. Although the brothers angle plays well with oral traditions!

OCS: Rulon Gardner might end up a Little John-type; but he'd probably just live a brawny, anonymous life farming the shit out of some land.

RJ: KG, on the other hand, would die in battle seven or eight times.

OCS: Man, that dude would take a lot of people with him. He would get a statue and statue KG would be riding a horse, and he would have gone down so hard that the horse would be rearing all four legs off the ground.

RJ: Just resting on its giant, metaphor-laden balls? (I'm sorry that I'm not sorry about that one.)

OCS: HEY GUYS
THIS IS PRETTY UNCOMFORTABLE I GUESS
I WONDER WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO CARE ABOUT THAT

Another Lap With "Senna"

This is somewhere between an extension and a counterpoint to Rough Justice's semireview yesterday. We might as well get the counterpoints out of the way first-- it won't take too long because I basically agree with RJ. My points of difference have largely to do with the implicit politics of the film: I'm not quite comfortable imputing the disdain for Prost or the out-and-out beatification of Senna. Don't get me wrong, it was certainly hagiographic, and uninterested in interrogating the man's self-presentation. Senna speaks for himself in the interviews that comprise the fabric of the film. That is certainly a political choice, but such a light editorial touch gives the audience latitude in forming their own judgements. The film's sins of omission are almost entirely explainable through its narrow focus on the life of Senna the driver rather than Senna the man. Prost comes off as an antagonist because that is the role he played in Senna's career, and many of his achievements, including his first two championships, happened when Senna was a young driver without a competitive car. Only almost, mind you.

The reason this is a post instead of a conversation is because of the rivalry between Prost and Senna. It was a rivalry of classical form and bitter intensity and it was the centerpiece of the film. The two became teammates on McLaren in 1988, and from the first season, the two found themselves at odds. They were very possibly the best two drivers alive at the time, and McLaren had the fastest car.¹ They were each other's truest peer, and each had far too much ego and competitiveness to subordinate. They also embodied a stylistic contrast that is very easy to lend moral weight: Prost was nicknamed "The Professor" for his methodical, intellectual style and was happy to finish 5th if it would serve his needs in the season's points tally; Senna was brash and intuitive behind the wheel and drove every race for first; Prost played the political games of F1 as well as anyone and was close with FISA president Jean-Marie Balestre; Senna was willfully ignorant of the games behind the game. They mirrored each other historically as well as personally in a pair of deeply controversial crashes in successive Japanese Grands Prix. Their mutual hatred and respect formed a deep bond between them; I think Prost would have done anything to save Senna's life for the same reasons Batman saved the Joker.²

1: Between Prost and Senna, Team McLaren won 15 of 16 races that season.
2: And vice versa, these being comic books.

With its complex subject, epic rivalry, and stunning racing footage, "Senna" is one of the most beautiful and compelling sports documentaries I've ever seen, a fantastic choice for ESPN films to follow the 30 for 30 series, and for what it's worth a full-throated recommendation from the No Fours crew. Keep an eye out for it, in the theater if possible.

Kobe Gettin' Work

No need to apologize if you missed it or didn’t think much of it, but I was fascinated by the LA Times report the other day that Kobe Bryant is catching a lot of flak from Armenian groups for his deal with Turkish Airlines to be a “global brand ambassador”. Given the global nature of celebrity at the top of the sports pyramid, it’s no longer surprising when a star is criticized as a sponsor, but the normal script involves a flare-up when personal conduct, on or off the field, is seen as being at odds with the brand or product’s image. The media hates any disconnect in narrative, so, for example, Tiger Woods can’t endorse a classy watch if the tabloids have caught him doing less than classy things.

The Turkish Airlines flap is a different, new sort of celebrity/sponsorship uproar. Unless I’m forgetting a similar past episode, Kobe is the first American sports star to be asked to articulate a foreign policy. The facts: Turkish Airlines apparently enjoys a close relationship with the Turkish state. By getting in bed with one and therefore to some degree both, Kobe has accidentally aligned himself, at least in the eyes of LA’s resident Armenian population, with a government that has systematically worked to avoid international acknowledgement of the Turkish genocide of its Armenian citizens during World War I. That genocide occurred is beyond debate. Efforts to avoid UN/international recognition of such are Turkish efforts to protect their national pride and/or reputation. What seems like a moral no-brainer with no modern policy implications is muddled by the convenience of trade with Turkey for America and Western Europe, the two most likely sources of censure. Any claims otherwise are denial in its ugliest form.

The question, then, is how that debate relates to Kobe Bryant, global brand ambassador. What exactly do endorsees owe their parent companies? What do athletes owe the public? Does Kobe’s economic tie to a brand necessitate a public opinion about an atrocity nearly a century ago? I don’t really see how you can make that leap. If Kobe were singing the praises of the Turkish government, sure, he would have an obligation to let everyone know where he stands on the point. But did we demand Allen Iverson denounce anything when he took his talents to Besiktas or an explanation from Hedo Turkoglu or Mehmet Okur when they joined the league?

I’m a guy who has a lot more interest than most in genocide. The politics of the term and its use (and non-use) fascinate me. If you want a discussion of how the Armenian Genocide compares to the Holocaust or the tragic oddity that is the Cambodian genocide, I’m game. But I’m much happier if sports stars err on the side of political silence. If a topic is personally important to someone, they should feel free to use their fame as a platform. Bill Russell is regarded as a civil rights hero for a reason. Tracy McGrady’s trip to Sudan did some small but non-zero amount of good in the world. NBA stars supporting Obama was fun. Luke Scott has a right to open his mouth and remove any doubt that he’s (politically) an idiot. But it’s a big step past that to demand Kobe give up this endorsement or make some sort of statement he doesn’t mean to appease people.



If you find the Turkish government and by extension Turkish Airlines distasteful, if you think Kobe’s tarnished himself by getting in bed with them, that’s fine. Vote with your dollars, write a letter to the editor, do what you feel. But Kobe is a sports star shilling for an airline. He isn’t obligated to become “a champion of human rights” because he’s won a few rings. To suggest otherwise is to place unrealistic expectations on someone whose job and education haven’t required reading the international news page. It would be great if he supports HR 252, as the article suggests, but only if that support stems from personal resolve, not some sort of professional obligation or attempt to save face. Let’s save the venom for people that owe us better than they’re giving us. Kobe owes LA’s Armenian community his basketball skills, not his advocacy. If he wants to give it to them, that’s great, but he’s under no obligation to do so, or to turn down millions at their behest. Requiring athletes to take political stands based on endorsements does no one favors.

For Now We See Through A Glass, Darkly

"The true picture of the past flits by. The past can be seized only as an image which flashes up at the instant when it can be recognized and is never seen again. ‘The truth will not run away from us’: in the historical outlook of historicism these words of Gottfried Keller mark the exact point where historical materialism cuts through historicism. For every image of the past that is not recognized by the present as one of its own concerns threatens to disappear irretrievably. (The good tidings which the historian of the past brings with throbbing heart may be lost in a void the very moment he opens his mouth.)" -Walter Benjamin, On the Concept of History

"I am prepared for anything: KG pulling a Willis Reed, Jordan and Bird showing up, Rondo hitting John Salmons with a chair, Doc running the series-deciding play for Tony Allen, Kevin Harlan's head flying off his body, Tim Thomas experiencing a human emotion, you name it. That's the best thing about this series: Anything is possible. The ceiling hasn't just been removed, it's been obliterated.
Call it Game 7, call it Round 15, call it whatever you want. Just remember to call it the greatest first-round series ever played." -Bill Simmons, Chicago Bulls Boston Celtics Game 6 Diary

Sail To The Moon (Brush The Cobwebs Of The Sky)

There are sports events and there are sports Events. Transcendent moments for which "'we put up with every story about Clemens and Bonds and Michael Vick and Terrell Owens and everyone else who conspires to make sports less fun,"¹ moments that form the frameworks of our fandom. As a cursory poke about our archives will tell you, one of the main reasons we feel sports in general is worth our emotional and intellectual engagement is that it provides "a bottomless well of compelling narrative."² I'm going to go a step further here: I'll go ahead and posit that as far as our individual fandoms are concerned, sports events derive lasting significance almost exclusively from their narrative significance.³ This works on all sorts of scales. We use evolving mental narratives on various levels to define athletes, franchises, even entire sports. There are events and Events; there are transcendent moments and there are Transcendent Moments. I feel a hastily conceived, extremely biased chart coming.

1: Same Simmons piece. It is, I must say, enormously convenient to have such an invested, articulate Celtics fan around to quote, so long as he's not making "Godfather" references or talking about women.
2: While I have a few differences with Justice on the subject, they're more emphatic than thematic. Read his post, read the Run of Play series linked therein, we'll all high five, it'll be great.
3: This isn't incompatible with the other things Justice was on about earlier. It's different in the same way spending a whole season flipping on ESPN when you're channel surfing is different from spending a whole season flipping on ESPN when your team is on.

Karma Police

All of this mythologizing is an internal, personal process, but it's hardly unique and it doesn't happen in a vacuum. From the staid, journalistic AP recaps to deeply partisan hometown newspaper columns, there is a structure to the unfolding media discussions. A sort of teleological progression towards an interpretive narrative that grows more abstract and orthodox in proportion to the narrative power of its subject.⁴ Now, to a great extent this is just humanity doing its thing-- finding, applying, and adjusting broad patterns is one of the primary ways our brains interact with the world. But every so often it is good to be reminded that sports is "a business where developing, maintaining, defending, attacking, and manipulating broad narratives [is] an important tool of the trade." Controlling the story is vital; most teams would like to land the next David Axelrod almost as much as they'd like to land the next LeBron James, I'd imagine. But on the level of the individual fan, what this boils down to is that, unless you avoid journalism like the plague and only talk sports with a bloody-minded, manifesto-toting group of friends, discussions that deeply influence the narratives you will internalize are largely framed for you in broadcast media studios.

4: If this seems like a stretch, tell me: does anyone ever bother trying to claim that this was a low-percentage shot leading to a somewhat flukey win? Because it was.

Motion Picture Soundtrack

I became intensely aware of this process trying to follow the Celtics' postseason from New Zealand. Between the massive time zone difference and the NBA's peripheral status to a people in rugby's thrall, I was totally relegated to playing catch-up on the internet. YouTube highlights, recaps upon recaps, and a handful of blogs read religiously left me with all sorts of predigested data about the games: who got what statistics in how many minutes, what the key plays were and what they looked like, which coaching moves could be dissected and how, every bench player's contribution and so forth. But the aesthetic experience of watching a game of basketball was utterly stripped away. It was like being led around blindfolded instead of going for a walk. It was like reading Cliffs Notes. My rooting took on an edge of desperation-- if we could only advance far enough, ESPN Australia would have to televise all our games. As the first round series gathered steam, poring over the gobsmacked ebullience pouring out of damn near every corner of the internet dedicated to NBA ball became downright excruciating. Derek Rose matches Kareem's playoff debut scoring record while posting the second 35-x-10 postseason line in history and icing the winning freethrows in overtime. Meanwhile Rajon Rondo, a developing star in his own right and my favorite player to watch, holds his own in the point guard duel, going 29-9-7, and an exhausted Pierce comes up just shy of bringing home the bacon. And that was just game one. Then there were six overtimes in a three-game stretch. Game five happened:

And so did Game Fucking Six:
⁵

And acres of text flowed forth.

5: I chose this picture over Noah roaring like the ugliest lion for the same reason Time magazine chose Giuliani over Bin Laden as 2001's Man of the Year. Ray Allen was the FDNY.

How To Disappear Completely

Basketball moved on. The Celts put up another gutsy seven-game series, but couldn't put the hammer down on Orlando and went to their respective summer homes disappointed. And basketball moved on. Once the dust had settled, what was just as striking as the ecstatic tenor of the round one coverage was how there was no place in any of the sundry postseason retrospectives for "the greatest series you've ever seen in your entire life". Once the games are all over, well, the game changes. The serious fans know the score and have gone home. The only demographics paying attention are Lakers fans looking to wallow some in victory and The Casual Fan, a much easier creature to predict than, say, The Reader. The order of the day isn't really retrospection, it's hagiography. And so the Lakers' hiccup against the Rockets, while it was never compared to the handful of greatest series the Association has ever seen, was the early-round series of note, because it was vindicated by what came later. Past is prologue, and the Celtics-Bulls got left hanging, waiting for its book.

"Vindicated by what came later" also happens to mark the exact point where analysis starts turning into total speculation, which is kind of fun or sort of worthless, depending on how you choose to look at it. If The LeBrons' backcourt hadn't disappeared and they had pulled out some more games (and hell, if we're spotting Playoff Lyndon B. James some teammates playing well, we might as well just give them the title, too), how much more vital would this shot have been? If Bird and Magic had both pulled J.J. Reddicks, would the 1979 NCAA championships have transformed anything?

But let's go another direction with this idea that, recontextualized by what follows, events can change significance. The question at hand is not "what if?" but "what next?"

Jigsaw Falling Into Place

To second-guess the past is one thing; to second-guess the future quite another. There are simply too many variables at play. The core of this team could win anywhere from zero to two more titles⁶, and each scenario would cast things in a different light. Maybe it bypasses the franchise level altogether and becomes a touchstone in some players' creation myths. How bright can Rondo shine? How high can Rose rise, and how long will it take him to put it all together? Can Ray Allen pull out a few more big performances and officially pass Reggie Miller in the jumpshot pantheon?

I can't even pretend to guess with any vestige of authority, which, really, is sort of the point. Nothing kills a good story quite like predictability, after all. Simply pointing out the unknowability of the future is both obvious and played out, but beyond the next few times the Bulls and Celts meet up, who knows when and how this series will find relevance? All we can do is wait and see how things work out.

6: If we do manage to pull out two more, could Kobe deal with an asterisk the size of KG's knee next to His Championship?