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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Barry Bonds, Boston Red Sox, Indianapolis Colts, Major League Baseball, Oklahoma City Thunder, Pittsburgh Pirates

Really Bad Eggs

Why the Pirates Are Obligated to Loot and Plunder at the Trade Deadline
More than anything in professional sports, as a fan, I just want everyone’s effort.
Just try to look like you care, because we do.
Fair or not, it’s the truth. If you are in a relationship and you’re dogging it, you’ll hear about it – at least if the other party cares at all. And that’s the point, people tell you to try harder and get better or give more effort because they care.
That’s what sports fans do. And after so long, if you believe that a team or its players stopped trying, you eventually check out.
All of this explains why no one cares about the Pittsburgh Pirates resurgent 2011 season.
For the first time in 18 long years, the Pirates are on track to have a winning record. Hell, they’re on track to win their division. If this were any other team in just about any other sport, you’d have been inundated with stories, columns and blogs about it.
Until today, when ESPN ran a story by JerryCrasnik, it was crickets.
And lack of effort explains why.
The Pirates used to be respected. They used to be the big boys on the National League block. They were “the Family” in the 1970s and in the early 1990s, they won three straight division titles headlined by the original “Killer B’s” – Barry Bonds (pre-size 22 head) and Bobby Bonilla. Then some scrub named Francisco Cabrera, the last position player on the Atlanta Braves bench, singled in a broken-down Sid Bream to win a thrilling Game 7 of the 1992 NLCS.
And since that time, all they’ve done is secure a spot in the record books as the team with the most consecutive losing seasons in all four major U.S. sports.
Over the last two decades, the Pirates haven’t even tried. Either by management or by players, they have failed spectacularly.
Oh, there was the time in 1997 that they finished runner-up in the division (albeit with a losing record). Perhaps they would have fared better if not for that bloated $9 million payroll. Even by 1997 standards, that’s obscenely low.
The explanation has been the painfully lame “we’re a small market team and we have no money.”
Then either contract the team, sell it or move it. Or perhaps teams like Pittsburgh could have and should have used some of their massive revenue sharing kickbacks to field a more competitive team.
Take 2008, for example: The Pirates had a payroll of roughly $50.8 million. But they were given $39 million in revenue sharing.
What in the world are they doing with their money?
Well, they did build PNC Park for the 2001 season – which the Pirates opened with a 100 loss season.
What a waste.

The Pirates blew a golden opportunity there. After years of attendance decline (they dropped to an average of 12,577 fans per game in 1995), the 2001 season saw fans come out in droves to the new stadium. 

But what did they do with the 2001 average attendance of 30,834? As one might guess with a team that finished tied for the worst record in baseball at 62-100, they dropped back to 23,148 fans per game in 2002.

It’s basically been falling ever since, hitting 19,479 in 2009.

In every year since 1992 except the 2001 season, the Pirates are at half the league average in attendance.
It’s not something that you can blame on a market. In fact, just stop blaming markets and fans altogether. You bought the team, you knew what you were getting into, the market, the stadium situation, all that. You either want to own that particular team and try to make it a winner or you don’t.

Lots of small market teams draw fans – as long as they are competitive. Look at the Indianapolis Colts or the Oklahoma City Thunder. Good players and good teams bring in fans. Fans want to watch their home team contend.

Forget actually winning, we just want contending. Contending means you have a chance.
As a kid, I enjoyed the underdog. In many ways, I still do. Some of my favorite teams have been underdogs. Others are the big market bad boys who spend among the most. For instance, the Boston Red Sox paid $52 million out in revenue sharing in 2008, but they also spent $147 million.
The difference between the Sox (2nd in payroll) and the Pirates (29th of out 30) was astronomical, both in the money and wins departments, as the Sox paid three times as much for their roster as the Pirates did – and the Sox revenue sharing dues were more than what the Pirates paid for their entire roster.
Even if the Pirates could not afford a decent team for the last 18 years, why didn’t they try something, anything, to prove they cared? The Oakland A’s did not have any money either and they turned to stats and metrics to get the most bang for their buck. They’ve even got Brad Pitt starring in a movie about it – “Moneyball”.
The Chicago Cubs haven’t won a World Series in 102 years, but for the most part, they’re trying. You don’t find them on the list of those receive revenue sharing (yes, there are other reasons, like TV contracts and a massive fan base).
For crying out loud, even the Florida Marlins try once every seven years before selling off half the team. They’ve won two World Series titles in the last 15 years just by growing talent and having one season to see if it wins before blowing it up. The Pirates don’t even do that.
Until now. Now is there chance to redeem just a little bit of the last shameful 18 years. To give back to the poor schmucks that stayed with the Pirates and kept coming to games and buying the black and gold.
With a 50-44 record, the Pirates are a half-game up in the NL Central. Granted, the Central is perhaps the weakest division in baseball – but the Pirates are right there. There’s a little thing called the trade deadline just around the corner.
Do something, Pirates.
Pick up an arm. Pick up a bat. Hell, pick up both. There are difference makers out there. Just do something. Anything.
Just try.
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