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Ja Morant's support system needs to step up now
The NBA and athletes are a brotherhood, we're told. OK. Well, now would be a good time to act like one.
theathletic.com
Ja Morant's support system needs to step up now
The NBA and athletes are a brotherhood, we're told. OK. Well, now would be a good time to act like one.
theathletic.com
Aldridge: Ja Morant’s support system needs to step up now
Aldridge: Ja Morant’s support system needs to step up now
David Aldridge
Mar 5, 2023
108
Someone needs to reach Ja Morant. By text, by DM, by phone, by tomorrow.
I don’t know him. I don’t know what’s important to him. This is not me parachuting into his life and finding fault with it or foiling my values onto him. He has a father and a mother and a family and friends, who love him and care for him — and whom, I reckon, talk real talk to him. Not to mention an organization’s worth of support in Memphis, befitting that for a franchise player.
But this is me worrying about losing a 23-year-old kid to some BS.
We have enough of that to deal with in our community every day, in places far flung from the NBA arenas, private flights, million-dollar homes, max contract and massive Nike deal that Morant has earned from his basketball skills. Let me say that again. He’s earned that.
But this is going down a bad path. It is folly to suggest otherwise.
The Grizzlies announced Morant will take the next two games off after a video of him flashing what appears to be a gun in a nightclub surfaced on Instagram. The NBA will investigate what happened. Morant took responsibility Saturday afternoon in a statement released through his agency, Tandem. But this was just the latest issue involving Memphis’ two-time All-Star, one of the most electric players in the game in just his fourth pro season.
Far too often in recent weeks, there have been stories alleging awful behavior with little pushback to the stories’ veracity. He looks like someone who is struggling, mightily, with life, despite his on-court success and fame. And whatever his support system is, it isn’t helping him enough.
So, maybe some of his big brothers need to shake him out of it. If they haven’t already, and I’m sure at least a few of them have.
LeBron, Steph, Jimmy Buckets. Luka, Dame, PG-13. Kawhi. The Joker. Embiid. Giannis.
Guys who understand what it’s like to live in and play in that rarest of rare air with all the demands and demons that live there pulling at you. Guys who can tell him, with some authority, and credibility: “Dude, you’re (bleeping) up.” Or, at least, “Hey, man, hoopin’ is important. Trying to be about that life isn’t.”
We all need that. A friend, a colleague, someone you respect and love because they don’t have their hand in your pocket and because they care about you. Someone who won’t lie to you. And no one is better equipped to have that real talk with Morant than his NBA brethren. It’s a brotherhood, we’re told, all the time. OK. Well, now would be a good time for some of the game’s stars to keep it 100 with their struggling brother/nephew/cousin. I don’t always agree with ESPN’s Jay Williams, but he was right on point Saturday.
Maybe it’s Kevin Love or DeMar DeRozan, who have both been so outspoken about their mental health challenges in recent years. Maybe it’s CJ McCollum, the union’s new president, or Chris Paul, its old one.
(Those of you who don’t care about Morant’s troubles, or believe someone with his bank account could have any troubles, it’s OK if you stop reading now and find something more edifying. It may shock you, but even – maybe, especially – rich 23-year-olds are not known for their cogent decision-making.)
Still, love isn’t always telling someone how great they are.
I am reminded of what the comic and former “Saturday Night Live” cast member Tim Kazurinsky said about his friend, the late Chris Farley, in the book “Live From New York: The Complete, Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live as Told by Its Stars, Writers, and Guests,” an oral history of SNL.
Kazurinsky railed against the notion that “no one” helped Farley with his addictions, which killed him. (Please understand: I am not saying, inferring or hinting that Morant has any type of addictions.) Farley’s friends took him to rehab. They were there when he got out of rehab. They told him he was doing too many drugs. They told him if he didn’t stop, he would die. At some point, a person is responsible for their well-being. But people who care are always there, even at the lowest points, even if or when their first interventions don’t take hold.
This is the context in which I asked the Wizards’ Kyle Kuzma what he would say to Morant if he were able.
He paused. He thought about it for a few seconds.
“Man,” he began. “It’s tough. I just feel like, as Black men, in our country, especially us, in the position we have, that we’re blessed to be one percenters, right? We’re blessed to have, in his case, a shoe deal, $200 million on the horizon. And, I think a lot of time, we are figures. But we are role models, too. We have to realize that everybody, every kid, everybody in general, they’re watching us. It’s just unfortunate.
“I know when I first came in the league, I had all my homeboys around me, back from the city (Flint, Mich.). We had great times. It was very important to keep my homies around, ’cause I grew up with them, right? But if my homies are just yessing me, and not allowing me to be my best version of myself, are they really my homies? It just sucks, man. It definitely sucks. … man, it’s all about your circle. You gotta keep your s— tight. For us, like I said, we’re blessed to have these situations, to have all this money, and this clout. And we want to use it for as much good as possible, no matter who you are. He’ll learn from it. He’s so young. He’s got a bright future. It’s just part of his journey, and it’s OK. It’s part of his journey.”
Bradley Beal grew up in a family of truth-tellers — both parents, Besta and Bobby, and four brothers. They didn’t let him get away with anything. And he’s appreciative, on the other side of his youth, to have had that tough love, in all parts of his life.
He answered my questions about Morant while making it clear he wasn’t in his inner circle.
“It’s a tough one,” he said. “He’s a player, he’s had those talks, probably before. He has people in his corner. I think it’s a learning experience for him. But I’m not in that locker room, I’m not over there, so I can’t dictate anything, or say this, that and the third. I’m not in his camp, so I don’t know what he does in his free time.
“I think he understands the position he’s in. He’s an icon to the game. He’s grown into that role. And he has to understand that kids are going to look up to him, and the things he does. I think it’s a learning experience for him. I don’t think it defines who he is.”
Ja Morant’s life is just beginning. And ultimately, he’s the only one who can guide it through this incredibly difficult patch to the other side. But we all need co-pilots, engineers, people who help give our lives structure and won’t sugar-coat it when we’re (bleeping) up.
Someone needs to get to Morant, stat. He’s (bleeping) up.
Mar 5, 2023
108
Someone needs to reach Ja Morant. By text, by DM, by phone, by tomorrow.
I don’t know him. I don’t know what’s important to him. This is not me parachuting into his life and finding fault with it or foiling my values onto him. He has a father and a mother and a family and friends, who love him and care for him — and whom, I reckon, talk real talk to him. Not to mention an organization’s worth of support in Memphis, befitting that for a franchise player.
But this is me worrying about losing a 23-year-old kid to some BS.
We have enough of that to deal with in our community every day, in places far flung from the NBA arenas, private flights, million-dollar homes, max contract and massive Nike deal that Morant has earned from his basketball skills. Let me say that again. He’s earned that.
But this is going down a bad path. It is folly to suggest otherwise.
The Grizzlies announced Morant will take the next two games off after a video of him flashing what appears to be a gun in a nightclub surfaced on Instagram. The NBA will investigate what happened. Morant took responsibility Saturday afternoon in a statement released through his agency, Tandem. But this was just the latest issue involving Memphis’ two-time All-Star, one of the most electric players in the game in just his fourth pro season.
Far too often in recent weeks, there have been stories alleging awful behavior with little pushback to the stories’ veracity. He looks like someone who is struggling, mightily, with life, despite his on-court success and fame. And whatever his support system is, it isn’t helping him enough.
So, maybe some of his big brothers need to shake him out of it. If they haven’t already, and I’m sure at least a few of them have.
LeBron, Steph, Jimmy Buckets. Luka, Dame, PG-13. Kawhi. The Joker. Embiid. Giannis.
Guys who understand what it’s like to live in and play in that rarest of rare air with all the demands and demons that live there pulling at you. Guys who can tell him, with some authority, and credibility: “Dude, you’re (bleeping) up.” Or, at least, “Hey, man, hoopin’ is important. Trying to be about that life isn’t.”
We all need that. A friend, a colleague, someone you respect and love because they don’t have their hand in your pocket and because they care about you. Someone who won’t lie to you. And no one is better equipped to have that real talk with Morant than his NBA brethren. It’s a brotherhood, we’re told, all the time. OK. Well, now would be a good time for some of the game’s stars to keep it 100 with their struggling brother/nephew/cousin. I don’t always agree with ESPN’s Jay Williams, but he was right on point Saturday.
Maybe it’s Kevin Love or DeMar DeRozan, who have both been so outspoken about their mental health challenges in recent years. Maybe it’s CJ McCollum, the union’s new president, or Chris Paul, its old one.
(Those of you who don’t care about Morant’s troubles, or believe someone with his bank account could have any troubles, it’s OK if you stop reading now and find something more edifying. It may shock you, but even – maybe, especially – rich 23-year-olds are not known for their cogent decision-making.)
Still, love isn’t always telling someone how great they are.
I am reminded of what the comic and former “Saturday Night Live” cast member Tim Kazurinsky said about his friend, the late Chris Farley, in the book “Live From New York: The Complete, Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live as Told by Its Stars, Writers, and Guests,” an oral history of SNL.
Kazurinsky railed against the notion that “no one” helped Farley with his addictions, which killed him. (Please understand: I am not saying, inferring or hinting that Morant has any type of addictions.) Farley’s friends took him to rehab. They were there when he got out of rehab. They told him he was doing too many drugs. They told him if he didn’t stop, he would die. At some point, a person is responsible for their well-being. But people who care are always there, even at the lowest points, even if or when their first interventions don’t take hold.
This is the context in which I asked the Wizards’ Kyle Kuzma what he would say to Morant if he were able.
He paused. He thought about it for a few seconds.
“Man,” he began. “It’s tough. I just feel like, as Black men, in our country, especially us, in the position we have, that we’re blessed to be one percenters, right? We’re blessed to have, in his case, a shoe deal, $200 million on the horizon. And, I think a lot of time, we are figures. But we are role models, too. We have to realize that everybody, every kid, everybody in general, they’re watching us. It’s just unfortunate.
“I know when I first came in the league, I had all my homeboys around me, back from the city (Flint, Mich.). We had great times. It was very important to keep my homies around, ’cause I grew up with them, right? But if my homies are just yessing me, and not allowing me to be my best version of myself, are they really my homies? It just sucks, man. It definitely sucks. … man, it’s all about your circle. You gotta keep your s— tight. For us, like I said, we’re blessed to have these situations, to have all this money, and this clout. And we want to use it for as much good as possible, no matter who you are. He’ll learn from it. He’s so young. He’s got a bright future. It’s just part of his journey, and it’s OK. It’s part of his journey.”
Bradley Beal grew up in a family of truth-tellers — both parents, Besta and Bobby, and four brothers. They didn’t let him get away with anything. And he’s appreciative, on the other side of his youth, to have had that tough love, in all parts of his life.
He answered my questions about Morant while making it clear he wasn’t in his inner circle.
“It’s a tough one,” he said. “He’s a player, he’s had those talks, probably before. He has people in his corner. I think it’s a learning experience for him. But I’m not in that locker room, I’m not over there, so I can’t dictate anything, or say this, that and the third. I’m not in his camp, so I don’t know what he does in his free time.
“I think he understands the position he’s in. He’s an icon to the game. He’s grown into that role. And he has to understand that kids are going to look up to him, and the things he does. I think it’s a learning experience for him. I don’t think it defines who he is.”
Ja Morant’s life is just beginning. And ultimately, he’s the only one who can guide it through this incredibly difficult patch to the other side. But we all need co-pilots, engineers, people who help give our lives structure and won’t sugar-coat it when we’re (bleeping) up.
Someone needs to get to Morant, stat. He’s (bleeping) up.