Monthly Archives: May 2013

Carmelo Anthony, Dwight Howard, Kevin Durant, LeBron James, NBA, Oklahoma City Thunder, Oklahoma tornado

Durant’s Different is Good


Sometimes, in the midst of hardship and tragedy, an simple act will occur that puts it into perspective. This can be a difficult proposition in the modern world.
After another deadly tornado ripped through Oklahoma on Monday, nearly everyone sent news crews and cameras down to capture the story. We need to see it, right? Have to make fun of the people wearing inappropriate t-shirts who didn’t know they’d end up on camera. We must move each other to tears with images and first-hand reports of the horrors.
We’ve got to have every pundit on TV turn this into either a commentary on global warming or sequestration funds or any other number of political issues, all in the name of ratings and driving up the mass consumerism of other people’s misfortune.
Even kindness must have its moment, put on some make-up for the cameras and give details about how it’s here. The whole spectacle is enough to make our stomachs turn. The news is enough – we don’t have to over-produce our coverage of it.
So in a world full of cynicism, full of foreboding entourages, fake glasses and fashion statements, leave it to a professional athlete, of all people, to momentarily restore my faith in humanity.
Kevin Durant of the NBA’s Oklahoma City Thunder donated $1 million in relief funds to victims on Tuesday.
It only got out because the Red Cross announced it. It would have anyway because it was such a large sum of money. But the point that anyone in professional sports can donate without making a scene about it is nearly as remarkable as the donation itself.
Then again, this is Kevin Durant. He’s different and always has been.
Durant doesn’t draw attention to himself. He doesn’t preen, boast or brag. He doesn’t whine about why the breaks don’t go his way.
Time and again, Durant tells you everything you need to know about him just in the way he carries himself. Often without saying a word. And the words he does say are measured, well-thought out and only convey what wants projected. He insists on being Kevin Durant, not a global icon or caricature.
It’s as simple as accepting blame and deflecting praise. Durant has always done both well, which is kind of opposite how the rest of the sports world works.
Last year, in a crucial Game 2 of the 2012 NBA Finals, Durant had a chance to put LeBron James and the Miami Heat in an 0-2 hole. He had a chance to put all the pressure on James and the Heat as he drove the baseline and pulled up for a jumper. Durant and James got tangled up a bit, Durant kept shooting form.
Durant missed.
It was clear Durant had been fouled, but he either had not sold it well enough or had not earned enough stature in the game to go toe-to-toe with the league MVP and get the fouled called. James and the Heat escaped, and went on to win the series.
But in the aftermath of Game 2, reporters crowded around Durant. Time for the barking. Time for the gamesmanship of gathering the league and referees attention to this most grievous act. Time to at least acknowledge he got fouled, deserved free throws and that the rest of the series needed to be officiated a little more toward the middle instead of serving the King’s court.
Nope.
“I missed the shot, man,” was all Durant would say at the time.
With microphones jammed in his face, Durant simply shrugged it off and blamed himself. Maybe he didn’t want it that way. Maybe Durant wanted the foul called on its merits, not based off who’s wearing the other jersey.
In many ways, it’s a stark contrast to many of Durant’s superstar contemporaries around the league like James, Carmelo Anthony, Dwight Howard and Chris Paul.
Howard’s got teams from coast-to-coast fawning for the services of a player who seems less mature today than he was in 2009. Chris Paul seems nice enough, until you remember he did push behind the scenes to leave New Orleans and he had that nasty incident in college for stomping on another player. Then there’s Anthony, who prima-donna’d his way out of Denver, only to shrug off his team’s lackluster playoff performance and deflect any sense that there’s pressure growing on him to live up to the hype he’s had since joining the Knicks.
Durant chose to re-up with the Thunder. He wants to stay in Oklahoma City. It’s about as middle as mid-market comes. Aside from lamenting briefly that he was tired of being No. 2, Durant’s bore the full burden of losing the playoffs without a sidekick and being questioned how good he really is on his own.
Just last week, the topic de jour was about how Durant maybe now understands why LeBron left Cleveland. Maybe he could, can and will learn what James learned during his time with the Cavaliers.
Speaking of James, he’s different, too. He also seems just a little less greedy than everyone else.
We’ve largely forgiven the traveshamockery that was “The Decision” – mainly due to the fact that James gave a large, multi-million dollar donation to the Boys and Girls Club.
But maybe this is where James could learn from Durant.
Kevin Durant didn’t need a national TV audience and primetime special to do something for the great good. Durant didn’t need to do some self-promotion to raise the money and donate a portion of the proceeds to charity.
Durant simply cut a check – and probably went back to the gym.
Durant gave $1 million dollars, of his own money, to people he’s never met, that probably have relatively few, if any, ties to the Thunder or sports in general. And he did it without announcing it on Twitter. Did it without going on television or having Jim Gray come to his house.
Much like in the day of an average American, we meet people and know little about them, the same is true for professional athletes. And we’re always wondering, whether it’s a co-worker or some HD face on TV, if they are who they purport themselves to be. Why? Because we still care about being genuine. We like people who have no agenda, no hidden motives or greater plan, but simply do because it’s right.
We could use a little less talking. We could do without the political agendas, sidebars and just the moments when people need a moment to catch their breath lay silent in humility and honor.
Thanks to Kevin Durant, there’s still hope for that.
This time, Durant wins Most Valuable Person. This time, Durant isn’t No. 2.
This time, Kevin Durant made the shot.  
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American culture, Me Generations, psychology, Society, Time

A Time for Action


Ever listened to the clock, like one of those old grandfather clocks with the chimes that would wake you from a dead sleep in the middle of the night?
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
You can actually hear time passing. What’s interesting that you pick up from observing this is that there is really no such thing as right now, even though Val Halen had a popular song about it. In fact, Sammy Hagar’s lyrics were outdated before the ink probably dried on the notepad he wrote the lyrics.
Even saying the phrase right now takes a second, which inevitably creates a paradox in which you are both speaking of something from the past in the current and calling it the present.
Good and confused? Well, you should be. The passage of time has and will remain one of the great mysteries of our world. 
Men and women have used it and abused it, wasted it and made the most of it for as long as we’ve inhabited the planet. While we’d probably think of the  way we once lived as nomadic hunter and gatherers as naively barbaric , it could be argued that we are still barbarians, just a different kind.
We’re still hunting and gathering, only now, it’s consumption of things.
If you really want to see how fast the world moves, just go here, to the worldometers, a site that measure statistics on a variety of things.
In some areas, it is difficult to even comprehend “right now”. Just watch the birth rate. Or scroll down to the social aspects of the world. Look at how many Tweets are sent every second. The only thing that keeps up with both those categories is the number of CO2emissions this year – measured in tons, of course – and money spent on obesity related diseases. Or cigarettes smoked or world spending on illegal drugs.
Want to know about how fast – and what exactly moves quickest – here in the good ole United States? Then head over here, to usarightnow.com. Watch how fast these categories move: cans of coca-cola consumed, debt, revenue, spending on plastic surgery, text messages sent, energy consumed. 
So we’ve never really figured out this whole “what to do with ourselves” quandary. How is our time best spent, and according to whom? I suppose it’s up to the individual. Some live for family, some for faith. Some for vacations, gadgets, objects. Others live for love – of person, of food, of money. Some live for their work and the task manager mentality of accomplishing something, even if that something isn’t all that well defined or, frankly, important.
Not everything holds the same value when measured by people or, perhaps even more intriguing, by time. It cannot, frankly, otherwise, we wouldn’t know what to appreciate. But that doesn’t mean what we value most is what we spend the most of our time on. Some argue because we can’t afford to.
I’d say based on things are going, we can’t afford not to.
According to most of the statistics, how we literally “spend” our time says all we need to know about us, as individuals and as a society. How we do our now will ultimately determine our later.
We want it all and we want it now.
We want quick fixes and short-term solutions to long-term problems. We want to feel good, so we buy whatever our drug of choice is: movies, music, food. And yet another minute, another hour, another day, month or year will pass and nothing actually changed. The feeling we get from all these things, is, like time itself, momentary and brief. And at the end of it, you have to wonder: what did I actually do?
We’re all about me. Then again, we always have been. There’s just more of us now.
Time just ran yet another story about another generation of young people who are all about themselves and how many people in older generations worry that they won’t be productive members of society.
Oh, but they will.
This story has been told and re-written many times, about Baby Boomers, Generation X, Y, Z and Millennials.  As Elspeth Reeve so eloquently pointed out in The Atlantic Wire last week, this same argument has been pushed as a talking point for over a hundred years, with nearly every generation. And every time, eventually, the vast majority settle down and do what they are supposed to: get jobs, acquire debt, pay taxes and die.
It seems no matter where you look, you find people who are not content or happy with something. And that’s not a knock, we’re all human and we all want and desire and need. But based on what we spend the majority of our time on, none of it is worthwhile to us. Actions speak louder than words, as they say, right?
Who are “they” anyway? Who actually does instead of merely speak? If action is the greatest indicator of doing there is, if so many are sick and tired of so many things, why do we spend so much time talking about it all? Perhaps because, at a young age, we’re told to share our emotions and our feelings as a coping mechanism. “You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”
And so we are a society of talkers.
This runs contradictory to all that we, in societal terms, believe ourselves to be. Our collective and individual self-image and worth is higher than what we actually are, or how we are viewed by others. Basically, we think we’re great, but we’re not all that great.
Yet inherent within the fabric of our very being is the need and the desire for something more. This could be due to the fact that we’re not fulfilled in how we spend the majority of our time. With over 80 percent of the American population reporting they do not enjoy what they do, this can certainly be a large contributing factor to our sense of uneasiness.
It’s the constant pull between the benefits of the here and now versus the hazy, distant outlook of the future. It’s hard to picture the future and see anything but an older reflection of today, or better yet, yesterday.
Do we have the wherewithal and the focus to get past the right now, which we’ve already established doesn’t exist? There’s always another horizon, another horizon – until there isn’t and we’ve ran out of time.
The promise of someday is nothing more than an illusion that makes us feel our mediocrity is acceptable. To actually make someday today, to make our tomorrow, our vision for the future a reality does, in fact, require action.  It requires care, focus and a formidable resolve to see it through.
Society has taught us – or impressed upon us through marketing and consumerism, that all things must occur fast. That speed equals good, that the quicker you get it, the happier you are. We should be mindful of wanting it all to happen now.
There’s good in the journey. There’s quality over a duration of time, a reminder that sometimes – often times – the best things happen over a period of time. Change typically occurs, for good or bad, slowly. Instead of just some picturesque idea or vision of what we dream and hope for, the journey and the determination to do it and actually see it through is the actual change.
Time is ever-fleeting. Not much is ever done or resolved right now, but rather in the moments long before and after it.
So what you do with your time only says and writes the history of you.
The world, as we know, will keep on moving – a grand machine where the numbers are ever changing. But even though they are measured the same – by the rate of time – they are not and do not have to be connected.
An individual’s life is theirs and theirs alone. So to what do we owe ourselves, as opposed to the world in general? Is what we do who were are, and if it is, are we happy with it?
Action speak louder than words.
So the next time you want to talk about how you feel, remember that’s fine. It’s good to get it out. In the end, however, the action you take determines what you truly mean (or don’t) what you say.
The hope and promise of the future will exist tomorrow as it did today and yesterday.
What are we doing right now that will make our dreams and goals of tomorrow a reality?
Tick, tock.
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1994 NBA Playoffs, 1995 NBA Playoffs, Chicago Bulls, Indiana Pacers, Indianapolis, Indianapolis 500, Michael Jordan, NBA playoffs, New York Knicks, Pat Riley, Patrick Ewing, Reggie Miller, The Month of May

The Legendary Months of May


Maybe the world changed. Perhaps it was the game itself.
Or maybe it was us.
But whatever the reason, that something, that spark, just isn’t there (yet) in the series between the New York Knicks and the Indiana Pacers.
Perhaps it is because that whatever emotions stir for the fans of these two current versions of the Knicks and Pacers, they can likely never compare to our collective memories the Hicks vs. Knicks battles of the mid-1990s.
Those 1994 and 1995 playoff series were multi-layered, fascinating events. That’s right, events. You just won’t be able to convince anyone in the state of Indiana those were merely just professional basketball games.
During that period of time, there was really something special about the Months of May. 
(You’re darn right I capitalized that!)
There was something in the air, an aura that something special was happening.
Between the anticipation of the Greatest Spectacle in Racing and all that goes on in Indy and at the track, to have the Pacers actually contending in the Eastern Conference against the assumed “Next-In-Line-Now-That-Jordan’s-Gone” champions, the Hicks were downright giddy.
It had all been played out by the pundits before it actually happened, because this was how it had always worked: the New York Knicks would take their rightful place atop the NBA Eastern Conference in 1994. It was just an understanding. They were the next in line.
Just like Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls had followed the Detroit Pistons and Isiah Thomas, who had followed Larry Bird and the Boston Celtics, who had overcome Moses Malone and the Philadelphia 76ers.
You take out the champs, your rival, your nemesis, you move on and assume the crown.
Um, except for one small problem: the Knicks never actually, you know, beat the Bulls with His Airness.
In turn, that became a problem for the Pacers. They saw the Eastern Conference just as wide-open as the rest of the world should have seen it. So for two years, the Pacers never backed down, never gave an inch, punched the Knicks in the mouth, gave Riley’s boys all they could handle. Somehow, the Knicks escaped, but the battle had left them damaged enough, they didn’t win the title.
Then came the rematch in 1995. And it felt like, at least in Indiana, the Knicks were a little too cocky, a little too New York, a little too…entitled. Again.
And yet another epic seven game series followed, punctuated by that skinny punk with his elbows out running his mouth for what felt like the entire month of May in the Garden. Reggie gave us eight unforgettable points in nine incredible seconds. Told Spike his boys were choking.
And we ate it up.
Back in Market Square Arena, sounds of race cars passing played way too loudly during seemingly every defensive possession. Slick Leonard’s “Boom, Baby!” phrase entered national prominence. Towels waved, race flags and Boomer became symbols of entire state for a four-week period that felt like another season shoved in between spring and summer.
In the end, the Pacers took the series before falling to Orlando in the Eastern Conference Finals – much like the Knicks the year before, too drained from the battle to resist the youth and legs of Penny Hardaway, Shaquille O’Neal and the Orlando Magic.
Then Jordan returned and nobody won anything for three more years.
While the Knicks and Pacers met a few more times in the late 1990s, essentially splitting the difference, the names and faces gradually changed. In fact, it happened all over the NBA.
The big man – greats like Patrick Ewing, Hakeem Olajuwon, Shaq, Alonzo Mourning, David Robinson and even the Pacers own Rik Smits – began to disappear. Volume shooters and athletes who could play multiple positions began to take over the game, gone, or at least greatly reduced, were the specialists like Dale and Antonio Davis, Hubert Davis, Charles Oakley, Anthony Mason, Derrick McKey, Sam Mitchell, Byron Scott.
Pure shooters like Reggie? Well, not too many left of them either.
Around Indy, the Month of May has changed a bit too. After the Indy Car split, things got weird for a few years. Oh, make no mistake, the track still hops and it’s lively time in the Circle City – but it’s not quite the same.
Which is all the things that come to mind as this 2013 series between the Knicks and Pacers shifts back to Indy for Game 3 on Saturday night. We like the Pacers chances: a plucky team in 2012 that gave the eventual champion Miami Heat a good scare has become team with far more potential and experience.
And we still don’t like the Knicks around here. Once again, they seem a little cocky for having, you know, not really winning anything but a division title and an insignificant first round series.
So we’ll keep looking for something, a skirmish, a big shot, those race sounds echoing over the Fieldhouse PA – anything to make us feel it.
The Mays of 1994 and 1995 may be long gone, nothing but a fading memory brought back to life by old clips and the oddity that is Reggie Miller calling games in this series.
But it’s still May. It’s still the playoffs. Both teams have a chance, which raises the stakes, which raises the possibility of something happening to add to the lore.
Maybe the game changed. Maybe it was us. It can be different and still good.
Maybe the Month of May will live again.
Boom, baby.
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American culture, ESPN, money, President Barack Obama, Society

The Fog of Money


“Time is money.” – Benjamin Franklin
Ever heard of the fog of war? It’s a often-used military term for the uncertainty in situational awareness experienced by those participating in military operations. The phrase “fog of war” essentially tries to capture the cloud in judgment that can occur during a conflict, military campaign.
There is uncertainty in your rationale, your estimations of your enemy’s capabilities and intent – as well as your own. As one might gather, this is a bad thing, as your judgment, logic and rationale should be clear during such trying times and circumstances. Military’s all over the world have discussed, practiced and prepared for the fog of war for centuries – but it doesn’t stop it from occurring.
The same could be true of American society right now regarding the economy, government and our culture. We’re in a haze socially, too.
This is referred to as “The Fog of Money”.
Because whenever money is involved, we lose all sense of rationale thought, logic goes out the window and our judgment is certainly clouded. What’s worse is own enemies know this and use it to their advantage.
The difficult part, though, is determining who are enemies are. They are not just groups without country in foreign lands, rather, the majority exist within our own borders, inhabiting the same space and occupying the same soil as we do. They could be our own government – both as an institution and as individuals in the institution. They could be the very people who employ us. Our enemies could be family and friends.
If you find this far-fetched and think that this is just another spiel about money being the root of all evil, well, you’d be both right and wrong.
It’s widely known that money certainly drives nearly everything and brings its own aspirations and motivations into any and all situations. It clouds judgment just by entering the room.
This is why they are making more Star Wars movies. Its why your favorite 1970s band continues to tour. It is why you get up and go to your job each day. The fog of money can be found all around us – the desire to get it, to keep it, to use it, to give it away.
There never seems to be enough of it, even though it really exists within the context of our own minds. Technically, it’s just paper that we’ve universally agreed holds some sort of value. As my high school history teacher said, if we all agreed today to burn all money and start using rocks as currency, it wouldn’t create a new system – just a new currency.
The Fog of Money creates an illusion of power, which is something else that’s in and of itself, a fog. Power exists because it is universally acknowledged that someone has it over you.
This week, Politico ran a storyabout how interest groups and the people seeking an audience with President Obama are using advertising time (and money) on ESPN, because they know he watches sports (hope they are keenly aware of this relatively new technology called DVR, which allows you to skip through commercials).
Trade associations and companies are using the media to try and garner Obama’s attention. One strategist indicted that the ads cannot be obvious to the president – he can’t know he’s the intended audience.
Money to deceive the powerful of influence? Who really has the power in this situation? Is it the one running the ad, the president – or the medium itself? Who can tell in this fog?
And it is not just political – Microsoft and the American Petroleum Institute (the largest oil and gas industry trade group) have used the same tactic to try and gain favorable audiences with those who watch ESPN and other networks.
It could be said that all this money would be better spent trying to improve services, trying to better the world through advancing technology and communications. But a message like that cuts through the fog and drips with a sappy message of the advancement of civilization in general. Kind of the opposite point of capitalism, come to think of it.
Thus our contradiction: a country with cultural principles of equality, of kindness, of opportunity, compassion and freedom, but with fundamental economic principles of supply and demand. We’re constantly at war with our two selves: the part of us that wants to do good in and for the world, and the part of us that knows money makes that very world go round.
Case in point: a New York realtor is offering employees a 15 percent raise to those who get a tattoo of the company logo. It appeals to those who are struggling in tough economic times and it’s a walking billboard (and weird story) for all who see and ask about it. It relies on desperation of the powerless, the need to gain any extra piece of cheese or slice of the pie or whatever classic acronym you can apply here.
Is it so different that millionaire and billionaire professional sports owners contemplating adding logos of key advertisers to team uniforms? The money generated from TV deals, season ticket holders, corporate suites, general attendance and merchandising isn’t enough, eh?
To make matters worse, we the people are just as a part of the Fog of Money as those we seem to perceive as running the show – myself included. Every time we “like” some movie or business or show our support for or against some issue, we’re showing that these advertising efforts work.
I’d never suggest removing ourselves from the equation – we’re too entrenched into the modernity of American society now. But we could learn from the likes of those who’ve prepared, as best they can, for the Fog of War.
We can take the time to understand others true motivations and intent. We can learn to draw from our past experiences, do better reconnaissance work and recognize faulty communication. We can slow the tempo of our decision making to a tactical level where there is less risk and better intelligence.
Basically, we can take the time to be aware that the Fog of Money exists.
After all, time is money, and while money buys time, it cannot stop it.
In the end, we’ll be judged on how we spent our time, not the money.
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