The Player Empowerment Era is Bullsh*t

I don’t have much time, so I’ll get right to it. This crop of superstar elder statesmen has caused irreparable damage to the NBA, and they must pay for their crimes. The league has morphed into something unrecognizable on their watch. We’ve gotten to a point where the powers that be have to threaten incentives to make sure dudes simply show up to work every day and hold town hall summits to try to get them to compete in All-Star games. Embarrassing. There won’t be any farewell tours for these guys. When they retire, they’re going to find themselves in front of a hoops tribunal trying to avoid prosecution. All this politicking, maneuvering, team hopping, load managing, and holding franchises hostage has been labeled “empowerment,” but it reeks of entitlement to me. Excuses have been made, and goalposts have been moved, but when it’s all said and done, somebody is going to have to answer for this shit show.

I find it ironic that this current era of the “Take my ball and go home” approach to the league is called empowering, while the guys who really sacrificed to improve the conditions for players are called plumbers. Bill Russell spearheaded arguably the most impactful boycott in American sports history. In 1964, he and the other All-Stars got the commissioner to formally recognize the players’ association and agree to implement a pension plan by threatening to sit out the game. We went from that type of rabble-rousing during All-Star weekend to “Aw man, too many parties and media obligations.”. “They shouldn’t play hard. They might get hurt.”. “They’re saving their bodies for the remainder of the season.” “The All-Star game was never competitive. Why should they play hard now?”. In the words of renowned bootlegger and imaginary club owner Ray Gibson, “s-o-f-T!!!”. Maybe it’s just me, but I think players taking advantage of the league’s first opportunity at major media exposure to significantly improve their professional lives and those for generations to come is more empowering than a guy deciding hours before tip-off that he’d rather not play against the Rising Stars. If it’s just me, I’ll shut up.

This entire narrative is rooted in hypocrisy, anyway. Y’all collars are about to get tight because I’m going to pick on your favorite player. LeBron James’s decision to take his talents to South Beach and stack the deck has been heralded as a monumental shift in power from owners to players and is held up as the shining example of a player taking their destiny into their own hands. That is, until it’s time to explain why this “power move” wasn’t enough to avoid the two most embarrassing Finals losses in NBA history and match the success of the player he is most constantly compared to. Then it’s, “WHAT ABOUT PAUL PIERCE AND THEM??!!!??”. So, did LeBron start player empowerment or not, man? “Is it Oochie Wally Wally, or is it One Mic?”. The answer is no, he did not. The true shift came nearly 40 years earlier. Oscar Robertson literally sued the NBA to end restrictions on player movement. The rules have changed and been modified over time to what we see today, but the fact remains that the Big O was the one who gave players the ability to choose their destiny. Now, all that withstanding, what LeBron did was absolutely historic and was a colossal shift in how players operated. Was it empowering, though? I suppose, by definition, it was because others immediately followed suit. But here’s the thing: there was no benevolent cause. Bro was just trying to win some rings. Which is completely fine, do you playa. But treating dude like he’s Martin Luther King, Jr. when the man who fought to give him the ability to move like that in the first place is constantly disrespected is wild. And please don’t try to convince me that LeBron was trying to lead a coup against the owners. That lazy rhetoric has extreme “Drake is suing UMG for all rappers” vibes. Also, depending on who you ask, this had a negative ripple effect throughout the league. I don’t know, man. I wouldn’t want my name permanently attached to something that many believe ripped the competitive fabric from the game and encouraged people to take shortcuts. Being the originator of “Running from the Grind” is a hell of a label to carry. And even acknowledging the fact that LeBron having that type of leverage isn’t entirely unfathomable, the downside of that is lesser players thinking they can move that way. That’s how we end up with Kyle Kuzma demanding trades and Bradley Beal having a no-trade clause. LeBron isn’t solely responsible, either. We’ve seen KD whore himself around the league. James Harden has fleeced teams at a historic level. The Clippers mortgaged their future in the name of acquiring the remains of Kawhi Leonard and Paul George. It’s a lot of blame to go around.

Oh yeah, another stupid thing y’all like to repeat about player movement is, “Older players would have done the same thing if they could.” Please cut it out. I’m not sure why there is a prevalent thought that players from previous eras couldn’t handle business and effectively guide their own careers when they had to navigate an exponentially more difficult terrain than players do today. You want to talk about empowerment? Let’s talk about Spencer Haywood. The option to turn pro early wasn’t available to him until he made it available. Spencer left school after his sophomore year in order to support his family. After playing one season for the Denver Nuggets (ABA), he signed a 6 yr/$1.5 mil deal with the Seattle Supersonics. The NBA stepped in to try to nullify the contract and threatened sanctions against the Sonics. Haywood took them to court and won. His victory allowed everyone who could make a case for economic hardship to enter the draft earlier than the established “4 years removed from high school” rule the league operated by to provide for their families. Over time, this morphed into players flat out having that right, which is fine. Players should be able to make that decision. But just like most things older players fought for out of necessity, the new guys took it too far. Just because the option is there doesn’t mean you have to take it. And I’m actually not going to put this on the players 100%. Front offices, scouts, coaches, and other decision-makers have to hold some of this L. Have some balls. Tell these kids they’re not ready. And now we have to see 19-year-olds stumble through their first three or four years instead of developing their games in college and having a smoother transition to the league. Guys who just got the privilege of avoiding a young renter’s fee at Enterprise are looked at as vets because they’re entering the league so early. This is really a moot point at this stage because you can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube now, but I’ve said all of this to say that Spencer Haywood’s trailblazing journey is not recognized nearly enough for how transformative it was in reshaping the league.

Now, let’s talk about this era’s most disgusting creation: load management. And yes, I’m putting it on the players. Because when superstars were forming up like Voltron and it was frowned upon, the response was, “These guys are taking charge of their careers. The players have more power than ever before.” But when these same superstars are chided for sitting out games, it turns into, “The team is making them do it.” Now wait, I thought these players were all-powerful and did things on their terms. How did we get to “They won’t let us play even though we want to”? “Is it Black girl lost or shorty owe you for ice?” You can’t have it both ways. The problem is that players have been having it both ways for quite some time now. But with great power comes great responsibility. And the second part of that statement has been ignored. Players want to dictate everything and expect their demands to be met. But what do they feel they are supposed to deliver in return? They happily cash their paychecks for $300 million deals (which they absolutely should be) but complain about media obligations and appearances during All-Star weekend? Well, why do you think those contracts are so high, buddy? And as far as on-court expectations, I don’t think anybody is going to pay you a small fortune and not expect some hardware in return. And if you think I’m caping for owners, then you’re right. I’m wholeheartedly caping for them. Take that however you will, but if I was in their position, I’d want tremendous returns for capitulating to the whims and desires of a player on top of paying them an obscene amount of money. But don’t get it twisted; I don’t feel sorry for them. They could have just, ya know, said no. If you don’t think they’re getting theirs back in blood, you’re sadly mistaken. And you will only have the players to blame. Enjoy all this “player empowerment” while you can because the next time both sides come together for CBA negotiations, please believe the owners are going to try to emerge from that table with the NBA equivalent of the Three-Fifths Compromise.

Players having more involvement in the league isn’t a problem on the surface as long as that responsibility is handled with care. Frankly, it hasn’t been. Going to a team, draining all its resources, having input on personnel moves, holding the organization hostage when it’s time to re-up, and wanting no culpability when the desired results aren’t achieved is the type of thing that will drive decision-makers to bring back those 9 year/$9 million contracts. Honestly, I say we get back to everyone doing their jobs. I don’t want players involved in personnel decisions, and I don’t want front offices taking jump shots. That way, when it’s time to hold someone accountable, we know exactly where to look.

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