ESPN host Dominique Foxworth recently
made an excellent point during an appearance on Bomani Jones’ podcast, noting
the difference between a polarizing figure and a lightning rod. In the former
category, you do or say things that drive folks into opposing camps. In the latter
category, you don’t have to do or say anything. Your mere existence is enough
to divide the masses.
Caitlin Clark is a lightning
rod, crackling in the WNBA and throughout pop
culture.
Her presence has brought added scrutiny to the 28-year-old league – where 70% of the players are Black and 100% are women. Not surprisingly, a lot of racism and sexism is on display from fans and the media.
Celebrities were among the earliest influencers, especially famous entertainers who enthralled fans and swayed consumers in person or print, over the air or on a screen. But that was eons before social media grew pervasive and reverse-engineered the process, changing life for generations born after the Internet shrunk the world.
Nowadays, fame and celebrity aren’t prerequisites for mass persuasion; renown can grow as individuals become influencers on social media, helping brands connect to targeted slices of cyberspace.
“When I was a child, I spoke and
thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish
things.” I Corinthians 13:11
Growing old and growing up are
not synonymous concepts.
The first is an involuntary process that occurs in daily increments, never ending until the day we die. The latter requires intentionality, a conscious effort to be responsible and accountable as we age and life becomes more complex.
Don’t let age fool you. A person who’s 50 can be less mature than a person with half that time on Earth. The rational part of our brain isn’t fully developed until around age 25, when functions for planning, prioritizing, impulse control and making good decisions are stronger.
Whatever we think of Stephen A. Smith as a broadcaster, we can’t deny he’s balling.
He’s a certified star in media, where ratings and revenue matter more than anything. He reportedly makes $12 million annually from ESPN alone, with a chance of hitting $20 million when his contract expires next summer. His eponymous YouTube show has more than 600,000 subscribers and is worth seven figures annually.
You know who else is balling? Smith’s friend Sean Hannity, the Fox News host who reportedly earns $45 million per year for a TV and radio show.
If we’re being honest, most people couldn’t pick Las Vegas Aces star A’ja Wilson out of a police lineup. Not because she’s Black, but because top WNBA players don’t enjoy the same widespread recognition afforded to their NBA counterparts.
New York Liberty star Breanna Stewart, another two-time MVP, is white and few people could point her out, either.
Wilson and Stewart stand out as unusually tall women — both 6 foot, 4 inches — but otherwise barely draw second looks in a crowd. Women’s basketball historically hasn’t attracted large enough national TV audiences to create many A-list celebrities.
For far too long in too many
places, too many Black boys have dreamed too much of becoming two things: athletes
or rappers. Not white-collar professionals or blue-collar workers. Not small
business owners or government officials. Not firefighters, EMTs or the po-po.
It’s a problem with no easy
answers or quick fixes. Athletes and rappers are leading role models even when their
comportment is less than desirable. Doctors and lawyers don’t act right at
times, either, but their disputes are less likely to become fodder for multimedia
content.
That’s not the case with Hall-of-Fame athletes-turned-broadcasters Shaquille O’Neal and Shannon Sharpe, who slipped into Drake-Kendrick mode last week.
LeBron James is still among us and he still commands a lion’s share of NBA attention. But successors to his throne are circling, particularly in Minnesota, where 22-year-old Anthony Edwards is introducing himself to the public at large. “Ant Man” is here and he’s looking like “Thee Man.”
LeBron James, Stephen Curry and
Kevin Durant suffered quick exits from the NBA postseason, but their ability to
hoop remains exquisite. They routinely hold their own and more, putting up
numbers against players 15 years younger. No one denies that James, Curry and Durant,
among all-time greats, are still elite at their craft.
Frankly, it’s amazing how well they continue to play at this stage, James at 39, Curry 36 and Durant 35. They’re our “OG3,” ballers we’ve enjoyed from Day 1 when they arrived with fanfare. But they’re virtually ancient in NBA terms. And it appears their time is up.
The saying “don’t hate the player, hate the game” has some merit, specifically the second half. There’s no denying that the American system is rigged and worthy to be loathed, historically and often currently telling us to get back simply because we’re Black.
But there’s no automatic, blanket
approval for the saying’s first segment. Some “players” are totally reckless in
how they roll, wilding out against their skinfolk and other folks. There’s no
love here for those who lie, steal and kill to get ahead, while the rest of us do
our best within the jacked-up rules.
So I completely agree if former
Iowa star Caitlin Clark says don’t hate her.
That’s your inquiry when
arriving at a pickup game in progress. Then you ask if spots remain on the upcoming
team(s). If not, it’s your moment to make the game’s most declarative off-court
statement:
Follow
