Broken

And with that, here's something most, if any of us don't think about.

The body does not know how much money you make.

Yeah, that seems absurd from the first glance. It may appear to be a copout for the lack of success for some of the most talented and highly-paid professional athletes. Making such a statement in the eyes of many disillusioned sports fans is akin to saying “as long as I’m getting paid”.

However, that’s the reality; the body does not know how much money you make.

So when the news of a season-ending microfracture surgery for Houston Rockets swingman Tracy McGrady came across the wire Wednesday afternoon, the refrains of being injury-prone and beyond echoed once more.

Now, of course, there’s the manner of how the news was revealed – he posted a message on his website before his coach, Rick Adelman had discovered such through the newspapers – yet, that’s just adding fuel to a fire that doing quite enough damage on its own. Yet, to think that a player whose individual talents rival that of Kobe Bryant and LeBron James has been unable to perform at their level because of a steady stream of injuries is more than disconcerting.

It’s sad.

Now, there’s no apology if this is one of those scenarios where McGrady could have played through the remainder of the season. We hear all the time from the football world that there’s a difference between being hurt (sore or at most, having discomfort in which any correction can be put off until season’s end) and being injured (as in, you kind of need those bones, ligaments, muscles, etc. in order to walk, let alone play). Yet no matter how much his detractors try to make that case, it’s impossible and a bit unfair.

None of us are in the guy’s head.

None of us are in the locker room or on the practice court day after day with him.

None of us know his body and most of us didn’t study kinesiology.

If this was Shane Battier or Carl Landry, the latest injury would be a big deal for a day and not again until the Rockets lose either their playoff position or another first-round series. If this was even Joey Dorsey or Luther Head, it would be quite easy to dismiss their significance to the team as they are just collecting DNP-CDs and a few hundred grand.

A few seasons ago, the New York Knicks endured this with Allan Houston. In 2001, he received the biggest contract extension in franchise history; a six-year, $100 million pact for a player who was a tremendous perimeter shooter, but not heralded for much else. While the contract was an eye-opener at the time, it between 2003 and 2005 that it became an eyesore as Houston missed a combined 94 regular-season games in two seasons. Financially, the Knicks took a major hit, one bad enough that the league office allowed an amnesty tax (affectionately known as the “Allan Houston rule”, though the team never used it on him, but Jerome Williams). Yet, the truth of the matter is that the ligaments in Houston’s knees were gone.

A former teammate of both McGrady and Houston, current Phoenix Suns forward Grant Hill, endured some of the same trials. When he signed his mammoth deal with Orlando back in 2000 along with McGrady (who was traded for Steve Francis four seasons later), they were supposed to return the Magic to prominence in the post-Shaquille O’Neal/Penny Hardaway era. Yet from an ankle injury suffered in during the playoffs in his final season with Detroit to nagging shin problems to a sports hernia, Hill’s Magic days were miserable, to say the least. Unlike his former teammates, however, Hill began to give his body the proper rest as not only to properly heal, but in keeping in mind that he was entering his mid-30s with a dimmed window of championship hopes and physical ability.

There have been plenty of players – contracts big and small – whose bodies failed them in some degree, but in the case of the players with mega deals, one who slips under the radar of criticism is Milwaukee Bucks guard Michael Redd. If there’s a player whose path thus far seems to follow that of Houston’s, Redd, unfortunately, fits the bill. Instead of signing to play in Cleveland – his hometown team – he signed a six year, $91 million contract in 2005 to remain with Milwaukee. Though he only missed two games in the first season of the deal, he missed 29 games in 2006-07, ten in 2007-08 and will sit out for the remainder of this season after tearing his ACL and MCL back in January.

Recently, we heard about an athlete who admitted that the pressures he faced after signing his nine-figure contract compelled him to make a bad decision. Before landing in Texas in 2001, Alex Rodriguez had the talent and ethic to solicit bids for the highest offer for his services. However, it wasn’t until he confessed to using performance enhancers that you could say that he placed a price tag on his physical being; no matter how large, historic or unheard of a ten-year, $252 million deal had been. In his case, it was all about justifying his contract to the masses by adding something to his body; something well in his control.

Can anyone attribute a dollar value to a body part; healthy, hurt or injured?

Paramnesia

Paramnesia is the "scientific" name for a familiar, but simultaneously unusual phenomenon, déjà vu.

And so here while there are three rematches of the 2007 postseason this spring, the one that may have a longer-lasting effect on a player's career started on Saturday in Salt Lake City.



So one year later, Tracy McGrady finds himself going against the same exact team with nearly the same exact circumstances. There is no doubt that he is one of the most talented players to ever grace an NBA court. There is no doubt that provided a lucky break here and there during the postseason, his name would be in the conversation of one of the all-time greats. Yet, with not only four prior first-round eliminations and a Game 1 loss to the same team that knocked his Houston Rockets last year - the Utah Jazz - you just might get used to seeing this clip making the rounds once again.

What do you think of T-Mac? Is he the best to have never won a playoff series? Is he not doing enough in your eyes? Is it all just hard luck?

Thoughts highly encouraged to be posted here, not on Facebook or MySpace.

Ethic

If you noticed a day ago, there was a slight error in the poll. Unintentional, of course, but bad enough all the same. Because of general curiosity from those who come upon Scribe, the poll will remain here until April 1st.

One of the strangest and most baffling occurences in sports takes place in barbershops, workplace kitchenettes and message boards across the globe. It's the moment when the mere mention of a particular athlete's name invites the most absurd comments about his or her work ethic.

When did Shaquille O'Neal first become out-of-shape and fat?

When did Tyler Hansborough become the hardest working basketball player in the rich history of college basketball?

When did Vince Carter or his third cousin, Tracy McGrady ever look as if they were dogging it?

When did the now-retired Brett Favre become the toughest player to ever strap on a football helmet?

When did the Williams sisters

When did Miguel Cabrera or Andruw Jones fall to the "one Angus Deluxe away from eating his baseball career away" category?

These are just a few of the many instances where we tend to believe that a player isn't giving his all or a player is so passionate that - to borrow from the excellent new Nike campaign's slogan - his better is better than someone else's in terms of work ethic. Yet, there is something inherently wrong about trying to gauge someone's efforts on the playing surface.


Well, there are a few things wrong with this, to be real with you.

First of all, despite the great recreational runners and pick-up ballers that read Scribe, fans in general are not exactly embodiments of athletic excellence. In fact, the most athletic thing most of us actually does is roll out of bed. This isn't intended to be a slam or a mock at all, so much that this brings up a point. There are very few people in the world that can carry their athletic aspirations beyond their high school gymnasiums and neighborhood parks. It took some sort of persistence to be the best around the block, even if we probably had a good game against them at some point. Yet, they had desire and enough talent to build upon to the next level, from AAU and high school to some form of college (four-year or JuCo) to the elite professional stratosphere. Some work so hard to be so good that is seems easy and effortless when in fact, it took years of crafting their skills.

Secondly, these statements tend to be regurgitated from media reports and commentary, but rarely understood and questioned. Sports media has a lengthy history of members who made names for themselves by being vitriolic or overly flattering of certain athletes and leagues. Yet, most of this happened with only editors and stockholders as the defining check and balance of their expressions. Now, with immediate response from fans and colleagues through readily avaiable media, you would think that media heads and players-turned-analysts would be held a little more accountable or at the very least, be more discriminating with their opinions and word choice. Sadly, nothing has really changed except that there are more people involved. Sadly, there are more people believing the hype or repeating what they've heard. In the words of SPJ, "just turn off (insert media outlet here) and think for yourself".

Temperment plays a significant role in how a player's ethic is received. Think of how suddenly, Eli Manning has a legion of fans believing in him after his Giants' Super Bowl win last month. Manning had been derided by beat writers (not this one), columnists, talkies (again, not this one) and TV analysts for not having the personality of a quarterback who would kill his mother for a victory. His body language showed nonchalance when the Giants, notably he, struggled over the past two years. He was never found to scream in complete lunacy as Dan Marino did in his career, yet, even in good or great games outside of Super Bowl XLII, you didn't see a Tiger Woods triumphant fist pump, either. Because there was nothing for the camera to pan to, did this mean that he didn't care or that he wasn't into the moment? Did this mean that Manning did not put his work in during the week to prepare for Sundays? Manning's successful final weeks should serve as a reminder that you don't need to be a "rah-rah" athlete to win, let alone play at all.

The last reason for the absurdity of questioning a player's work ethic comes from something that has no statistic behind it: outside influence. How often do we hear about the player's personal life - for better or worse - seeping into their play? Family concerns, bad breakups and divorces, legal woes, adjusting to new locations - all of these play tremendous roles in how a player appears during a game. We may not learn of all of these travails publicly, but we still mouth off without having the slightest clue. Case in point: the infamous Allen Iverson "Practice" press conference. While he has laughed about it since, reading the full transcript should give you a glimpse of what was going on in his head at the time. Yet, when he was on the court, it was impossible to say that he wasn't giving his full effort; sometimes, you can say he put too much of himself on the line at the expense of his physical health and teammates' development.

Athletes receive the recognition that they do for a reason, whether many in society approve of this or not. Where most of us were limited by life-altering decisions or by lack of talent or physicque or just didn't have aspirations to take our games to the next level, any athlete who is playing in a highly-recognizable league has to have had a strong work ethic to get there. There are few people on earth who are willing to use their entire physical being to play a game or for a chance to make a living from doing so. To assume how hard they work is a little difficult considering that we're just observers, not actually playing with them.

Or maybe that's just one person's opinion.

So you probably think this post is hogwash and that's okay. After all, we might be right when we say that someone isn't trying hard enough or one player 'just wants it more' than another. Yet, for as much as we pick up on body language and the insiders tell us about what may be going on between games, do we really know?

Doubt it.

Say What?!?!: I knew cheerleaders were hardcore... well, except the ones I knew in high school (I kid, I kid). Yet, now, I have come to an important conclusion. Even though they're no joke athletically, they're just nuts. What a cheerleader does scares me more than the prospect of going man-to-man against Bruce Smith in his prime. Dead serious.
Speaking of regurgitation, another nugget from Newsweek- I wish I can give you an appropriate description to how much I HATE this phrase. I say appropriate because despite my colorful in-person language, I prefer to not dig in the nasty word thesaurus on Scribe, even if it is the Internet. So thank you, T.O., sports media, news media, the political arena and every working space in the United States for taking this phrase to such insightly levels.

Forward (VI)

After this, just one more. A smorgesborgh, if you will, of other sports to watch out for throughout 2008. For now, this sixth installation speaks about the most criticized and self-critical league ever known.

NBA: Will we keep looking for the Next Jordan? A while back in Sideshow, an article from Page 2’s (ESPN) Chuck Klosterman was referenced. It’s probably the most truthful article written in decades, if not ever, about the National Basketball Association. He described the league as “hopelessly, endlessly, incorrigibly narcissistic,” but explained further:

“When people hear the word "narcissistic," they associate it with egotism, but that's not really accurate. The failing of the mythical Narcissus was not his obsession with himself; it was his obsession with his image. And this is what prompts the NBA to wrestle with itself. No other league is as preoccupied with how others feel about its product.”

This is the league, however, that recreated the template of sports superstardom that is hard for anyone to duplicate. The emphasis on the individual is unlike any other from a team sports organization. From the unusual physiques to the near-nudeness due to the uniforms, NBA players are arguably the most recognizable athletes in the industry. The potential for these athletes, however, to transcend the sport took some time and luck to determine.

Baseball players were some of the first due to their early start in the sports landscape. Football stars followed suite once the NFL began to grasp the power of television. Yet, because the NBA has always been in some sort of need for revival, the singular face of the league was undefined. The Bill Russell-led Celtics, Oscar Robertson-led Royals and Wilt Chamberlain’s 76ers and Lakers were not enough, despite their uncanny talents and public demeanors. Race plays a significant role, whether we like it or not, but there was something else that not even Magic Johnson or Larry Bird in the 1980s possessed.

Somehow, Michael Jordan had it.

Before Jordan, it took the press’ unquestioned pulse on the sports world and some social firestorms to make athletes seem bigger than life. Muhammad Ali (and Jack Johnson before him), Joe Louis, any Yankee Hall-of-Famer, Johnny Unitas, Jim Thorpe, you name it. Though Fortune 500 companies had long ago made their foray into sports, the union between Jordan and Nike changed how popular athletes would be introduced to the world on a grand scale. That very union attracted many other offers for him and started a tidal wave of endorsement deals and sponsorships that has yet to show signs of subsiding.

Jordan has the looks, the talent, the accolades, the insatiable drive to dominate and an apparent apolitical stance that offended neither consumer nor business. He was the first black star athlete with undeniable crossover appeal. Even in a progressive era as the 1990s, this was unique and it was hard to imagine that the Association, or any league, could find similar success with another player.

They’re still searching for it.

When Jordan first retired following his third title with the Chicago Bulls, roundball columnists were asking who would become ‘The Next’. The roll call: Harold Miner, Penny Hardaway, Grant Hill, Jerry Stackhouse, Vince Carter, Tracy McGrady, Kobe Bryant, Dwayne Wade and the highest anointed of them all, LeBron James. Not surprisingly, most of those players had or have reached just a fraction of Jordan’s popularity with the public and the corporate community (and ‘Baby Jordan’ Miner faded rather quickly). The expectations were unfair and unrealistic, but that hasn’t stopped the A from trying again with Wade and James. All the while, a different brand of superstar emerged that countered the ‘clean-cut’ campaign for Jordan.

For better or worse, stars with ‘hood appeal’, ‘street-cred’ and ‘ghetto superstardon’ written all over them became the focus on the league. Allen Iverson was the first anti-Jordan superstar (and this moment solidified that status), and he singlehandedly carried a fledgling Reebok into the 2000s. Any guard with a crossover and bravado seemingly followed suit (Stephon Marbury, Steve Francis, Baron Davis, ‘White Chocolate’ Jason Williams). The influx of hip-hop culture with these newer players may have opened new doors in the coded ‘urban’ centers, but it also invited a socioeconomic rift that turned away many casual fans. Race, economics, generations, you name it.

Because these two contrasting campaigns were openly competing for the public’s conscious, every little negative tidbit regarding a player or the games themselves became a referendum on the NBA.

It still does.

You can dissect any news related to the NBA and find that no matter how insightful the discussion can be about the game, its players or teams; the conversation always comes back to the league’s image. A low-scoring game invites people to scream about the salaries of players. When someone takes thirty or so shots in a game, players are selfish and dumb (because Jordan himself never took more than ten shots in any game). When more international players are drafted, it’s becomes some conscious plot to undermine the African-American athlete. When Steve Nash wins two MVP awards, some columnists and fans take Commissioner David Stern to task for championing a white player in a league full of black ones. Can the A get a fair shake? Not when it is so open about its desires of finding another Mike.

The league changed on-court play with new ripples for offense in order to move away from the dominant defenses of the 80s and 90s. The marketing of their already-known and industry-leading community relations initiative (branded as NBA Cares) has been turned up since the Brawl a few years back. Wade and James are the most marketed players in the league; Wade’s championship with the Heat have catapulted him major pitchman status while James was placed in Jordan’s shadow when he was still in high school barely five years ago.

All the while, there are a sign of the anti-Jordan athlete, even within the Jordan brand, Jumpman. Carmelo Anthony, its signature player, may run with Iverson now, but he was categorized with him during his rookie season. Marbury went from And1 to his own inexpensive and successful ‘Starbury’ line, even though his image has taken a turn for the worse in recent years. There were failed attempts to find more of those types, such as the adidas contract bestowed upon Marbury’s troubled cousin, Sebastian Telfair.

It’s apparent that the NBA wants to be admired in the way that few leagues are. The NFL, Major League Baseball and college sports (mainly basketball and football) don’t have these internal struggles out in the open as much as the NBA does. Other than baseball, the aforementioned leagues have a similar composition of players as the A; many black players grew up poor, working-class or middle-class. Baseball, itself, has an increased presence of Latino and Asian players and dwindling number of blacks and whites.

So, why do all the image problems really fall into the NBA’s lap? Because no matter if it’s Derek Jeter or Peyton Manning or even the true collegiate pitchmen, the coaches, those leagues never had what the NBA banked on for the better part of twenty years. They didn’t create nor fall upon what the Association had in the palm of its hand.

Jordan.