Take a seat, please. Draw a deep breath. This next paragraph is going to take a while.
Twenty-four former or current NBA players have been investigated in connection with a drug ring, arrested for drug possession, accused of sexual misconduct, arrested for a concealed weapon, ordered to pay child support, accused of striking a police officer, charged with statutory rape, charged with reckless manslaughter or have admitted lying to a grand jury, pled guilty to domestic violence and battery, agreed to drug counseling, pled guilty to four counts of indecent exposure or been accused of aggravated burglary.
Of course this is an incomplete list.
Oh, and by the way, this doesn't include Portland's Bonzi Wells propelling his phlegm at San Antonio's Danny Ferry during a game last season and calling him a "honky."
"Bad Boys" doesn't star Martin Lawrence and Will Smith, but Rasheed Wallace and Kobe Bryant and Jayson Williams and ... well ... let's get to the point. The NBA right now feels like the real pirates of the Caribbean. So how does the NBA clean up its image? Better put, how do you clean up people?
"Anytime you mix money, power and celebrity with extreme youth, that's a formula for a promlem," said Dean Bonham, a sports marketing executive from Denver.
In the past, the NBA has done it with marquee players. In the late '70s the league was being tarnished as it is now and along came Larry Bird and Magic Johnson to save it. As Magic and Bird began to fade, Michael Jordan emerged. Like it or not, and now the NBA regrets it, the league has become player-driven and anchored in the last 25 years by a few saviors. Allen Iverson might have been another, but he is always an accident waiting to happen. Tim Duncan is not flashy. Kevin Garnett and Tracy McGrady have flair but lack the aura that would make them The Man. Bryant was everyone's best bet, but now, no matter what happens in Colorado, he will never regain his unquestioned status.
That leaves LeBron James, 18 years old.
"People are looking at LeBron to be six parts basketball player and four parts diplomat," Bonham said. "People want him to be the next Michael Jordan. I hope people don't do that. As great as Michael was, he didn't have near the kind of pressure coming into the league that LeBron has now."
What choice does the NBA have? It's tried education. At the beginning of training camps for the last 15 years, the NBA has conducted a Rookie Transition Program. For five days, incoming rookies hear psychologists, law-enforcement officials and former players and coaches speak on every possible temptation. Not one stone is left unturned, says Mike Bantam, the NBA's senior vice-president in charge of player development.
"What we are trying to do is accelerate their maturity," Bantam said. "Many times we are asking teen-agers to function like adults because we tell them they will be treated like adults, seen by adults and paid like adults. It's an awesome task."
Not to mention an impossible one. In the forced merging of adolescence and adulthood, the former frequently wins that battle on stubbornness alone. This is Mr. Toad's Wild Ride at Disneyland, and the NBA is desperate to guide the car straight -- when it's the very last thing that car wants to do. "Don't tell me how to drive," says Chris Webber.
"It's the ebb and flow, it's the nature of sport," said Bonham, who doesn't see a crisis.
Fair enough, Mr. Bonham. But I have just one question.
Are we still ebbing? It feels like we're still ebbing.
http://www.pressdemocrat.com/column/padecky/22padecky_c1empirec1.html
Twenty-four former or current NBA players have been investigated in connection with a drug ring, arrested for drug possession, accused of sexual misconduct, arrested for a concealed weapon, ordered to pay child support, accused of striking a police officer, charged with statutory rape, charged with reckless manslaughter or have admitted lying to a grand jury, pled guilty to domestic violence and battery, agreed to drug counseling, pled guilty to four counts of indecent exposure or been accused of aggravated burglary.
Of course this is an incomplete list.
Oh, and by the way, this doesn't include Portland's Bonzi Wells propelling his phlegm at San Antonio's Danny Ferry during a game last season and calling him a "honky."
"Bad Boys" doesn't star Martin Lawrence and Will Smith, but Rasheed Wallace and Kobe Bryant and Jayson Williams and ... well ... let's get to the point. The NBA right now feels like the real pirates of the Caribbean. So how does the NBA clean up its image? Better put, how do you clean up people?
"Anytime you mix money, power and celebrity with extreme youth, that's a formula for a promlem," said Dean Bonham, a sports marketing executive from Denver.
In the past, the NBA has done it with marquee players. In the late '70s the league was being tarnished as it is now and along came Larry Bird and Magic Johnson to save it. As Magic and Bird began to fade, Michael Jordan emerged. Like it or not, and now the NBA regrets it, the league has become player-driven and anchored in the last 25 years by a few saviors. Allen Iverson might have been another, but he is always an accident waiting to happen. Tim Duncan is not flashy. Kevin Garnett and Tracy McGrady have flair but lack the aura that would make them The Man. Bryant was everyone's best bet, but now, no matter what happens in Colorado, he will never regain his unquestioned status.
That leaves LeBron James, 18 years old.
"People are looking at LeBron to be six parts basketball player and four parts diplomat," Bonham said. "People want him to be the next Michael Jordan. I hope people don't do that. As great as Michael was, he didn't have near the kind of pressure coming into the league that LeBron has now."
What choice does the NBA have? It's tried education. At the beginning of training camps for the last 15 years, the NBA has conducted a Rookie Transition Program. For five days, incoming rookies hear psychologists, law-enforcement officials and former players and coaches speak on every possible temptation. Not one stone is left unturned, says Mike Bantam, the NBA's senior vice-president in charge of player development.
"What we are trying to do is accelerate their maturity," Bantam said. "Many times we are asking teen-agers to function like adults because we tell them they will be treated like adults, seen by adults and paid like adults. It's an awesome task."
Not to mention an impossible one. In the forced merging of adolescence and adulthood, the former frequently wins that battle on stubbornness alone. This is Mr. Toad's Wild Ride at Disneyland, and the NBA is desperate to guide the car straight -- when it's the very last thing that car wants to do. "Don't tell me how to drive," says Chris Webber.
"It's the ebb and flow, it's the nature of sport," said Bonham, who doesn't see a crisis.
Fair enough, Mr. Bonham. But I have just one question.
Are we still ebbing? It feels like we're still ebbing.
http://www.pressdemocrat.com/column/padecky/22padecky_c1empirec1.html
