Not a Question of Courage: Anti-Black Racism and the Politics of the NBA Lockout

Not a Question of Courage: Anti-BlackRacism and the Politics of the NBA LockoutbyDavid J. Leonard
Followingan exhibition game in Philadelphia, MichaelTillery asked the following of Carmelo Anthony:
MichaelTillery: Carmelo I don't know if anyone asked you this but the fans are wonderingwhy there isn't such of a…NBA presence…NBA players coming out and speaking onthis issue (NBA lockout) publicly like in the NFL…like in other situations.
CarmeloAnthony: "We're not allowed. We're not allowed. I mean everybody has their ownopinion…you hear people talk here and there…but nobody don't really come outand say what they really want to say. That's just the society we live in. Athletestoday are scared to make Muhammad Ali type statements."
Notsurprisingly, his comments have led to questions about today's NBA players,their resolve, their commitment, heart, and courage.  For example, one blogger offeredthe following: "What does Carmelo mean by "we're not allowed"? Who'sstopping them? Is Carmelo right? Do you think athletes are punks in the modernera as opposed to the way Muhammad Ali stuck his neck out for Vietnam? Maybethese guys should just man up and make changes!"  Kelly Dwyerwas similarly dismissive, questioning Anthony's reference to Ali:
Oh, Carmelo.He's not lying. He's not wrong. But comparing Ali's stand against a conflict inSoutheastern Asia that had gone terribly wrong to a discussion over the sharingof actual billions of dollars in Basketball Related Income is the absoluteheight of absurdity. Yes, athletes today are scared to make Muhammad Ali-typestatements (as is the case with most people that want to keep their jobs), butthe application of an anecdote like that to a situation like the NBA lockout iscompletely and utterly wrong.
Whilefolks in the blogosphere used Melo's comments to incite division and tochastise the union for silencing its members, it would seem that his commentsdemonstrate the ways that race impacts the lockout while illustrating the potentialefforts from the union to manage and mediate the racially based contempt facedby NBA players.  As Michael Tillerytold me, "The NBA more than any other pro league seems to have an image problembased more on race than anything. You could say the league is more popular whena white player is doing superstar things."  As such, you cannot understand these comments outside alarger of this large racial landscape.
Tounderstand Carmelo Anthony's comments require a larger context.  His comments (and the lockout itself)are very much tied to the larger history of the NBA and race.  For example, in wake of the PalaceBrawl, the NBA implemented a series of draconian policies that sought to bothappease white fans and corporate sponsors who were increasingly uncomfortablewith its racial optics, all while disciplining the players to comply and embodya different sort of blackness.  Accordingto Michael Tillery, the brilliant commentator, "Since the Brawl and even goingback to Kermit Washington's punch of Rudy Tomjonovich, a case could be madethat any outspoken player in any regard is influenced to be silenced simply toprotect the NBA brand because of an apparent race disconnect."
Theowner's intransigent position and demands for a hard cap (although at the timeof writing the owners appear to have softened on this position, at least at asurface level), major reduction in player access to league revenues, and amyriad of others positions all seem to reflect a sense of leverage.  In other words, the owners seem to betrying to capitalize on the contempt and animosity that has long plagued NBAplayers, a fact worsened by the assault on blackness that followed the PalaceBrawl.  In a brilliantinterview with Michael Tillery, Ron Artest reflects on the publicperception and demonization of NBA players that reflects larger racial animusand ideology: "The NBA is not a thug league. There's a couple of players thatgrew up similar to rappers who have grown up. What are they going to lynch usfor that too? It's not our fault that we grew up that way. We are talented andsmart." 
Thelockout represents an attempt to capitalize on the perception of NBA players asthugs, as criminals, as greedy, and undeserving anti-role models.  It appears to be an effort to convertthe leverage and power that comes from the narrative and ideologicalassumptions so often linked to black players into greater financial power forthe league's owners.
Inthinking about Melo's comments and the overall reticence of players to speakabout the current labor situation leaves me thinking that this is a concertedstrategy to combat the advantages that the owners possess (the NBA version of asouthern strategy).  The union ismost certainly trying to correct the public relations difficulties that facedin 1998 (and throughout its history), obstacles that emanate from America'sracial landscape. 
Duringthe last NBA lockout, KennyAnderson, then a point guard with the Boston Celtics, generated quite a bitof backlash when he announced, "'I was thinking about selling one of my cars, Idon't need all of them. You know, just get rid of the Mercedes.''  Fulfilling people's stereotypes aboutrich and entitled black athletes, Anderson's comments generated little sympathyfrom fans, amplifying growing resentment toward the NBA's primarily blackpopulace.   Mike Wise,seemingly mocking, Anderson penned the following:
Two months after theNational Basketball Association's lockout came and his paycheck went, KennyAnderson began contemplating the unthinkable. It had nothing to do with askinghis mother in Queens for his old room back or taking a part-time security job;he figured there were only so many indignities young millionaires should haveto face.

But with his penchant forbuying what he wanted and his accountant having to borrow against his stocks tokeep investing, Anderson realized it might be time to do without. Sort of. . ..
Extravagant and expensivetastes have been a hallmark of young millionaire athletes. But without gamesand paychecks, N.B.A. players are about to learn the frugal side of livinglarge. How long many of them can cope without a biweekly salary may mean thedifference in their economic game of chicken with the owners.

Similarly,Patrick Ewing, then union president, describedthe players' predicament in the following way: "If you look at people whoplay professional sports, not a lot of them are financially secure. They make alot of money, and they also spend a lot of money."  Alonzo Mourning did the unthinkable during the 1998 lockout:he talked about race.  "I thinkthere is a perception from the owners to even some fans that we're blacks whoshould be happy with what we've got, fair or not," he argued."There's a lack of respect given us in large part because we're athletes.I'm not saying it's all about race because it's not. But it plays afactor."  Such statements didnot merely turn public opinion to the owners, but did so because the commentswere interpreted through dominant white racial frames, undermining playerleverage. 
Sowhen Alonzo Mourning "inserted" race into the discussion, noting the existenceof double standards and how race overdetermined media coverage, faninterpretations, and labor strife itself, the backlash was extensive.  The NBA lockout, at one level, wasabout an increasingly level of fan animus directed toward the league'sprimarily black players, much of which reflected the insertion of race into thediscussion.  At another level, the1998 lockout was about player divisions. Armen Keteyian, Harvey Araton and Martin Dardis in Money Players, describethe ways in which race, union divisions, and public perceptions impacted the1998 lockout:
As for theplayers, Salley said they had let the NBA and the agents divide them into warringfactions the public perceived as they haves against the have nots.  They came off looking, he said like 'houseNegroes and field Negroes.'Salley knewenough American history to understand this wasn't the first something like thishad occurred
'Blacks inthis country have always been divided and it never did us any good,' he said. 'TheNBA is a very black league, so we must be careful of the message we send.'
In effect,Salley's message was that no matter how successful it became, how big it got, 1970sracial perceptions would never go away for a predominantly black league sellingto a white corporate crowd.
Salley, hemay have been right, judging by the media's general response to the summer of laborstrife.  After at leastacknowledging baseball and hockey players had the right to fight for their bestdeal, many sports journalists more or less rolled their eyes and advised thebasketball players to be happy with whatever they got.  Stern was help up as the sports shiningknight.  Jordan, as if he neededthe money, was cast as a greedy infidel. One national sports commentator referred on television to Jordan'sinvolvement as the 'equivalent of a drive by shooting.'
That evenbrought out the less polished, 1960s liberal in Stern.               'Fuck thepeople who say that Michael was being greedy, that he should just shut up and play,'Stern said. 'That's just code."
Inan effort to avoid the public divisions and to avoid the blowback from a mediaready to pounce on any NBA players who inserts race or merely expresses acritical perspective, it seems the players and the union have gone to greatlengths to disarm a previous source of leverage for the owners.  This is most certainly evident in therelative silence from the players themselves (minus Derek Fisher who mostcertainly cannot be depicted as a hip-hop baller and part of culture ofextravagance, both of which are common narratives attached to the NBA's blackplayers).  It is also evident inthe rhetoric seen from players when talking about playing overseas.  It is never about the money but insteadthe love of the game; likewise, the efforts to highlight player participationin summer leagues where the love of the game is on full display, works toundercut the stereotype of the greedy black NBA player that was so prominent tothe 1998 NBA lockout.  
CarmeloAnthony wasn't calling players for a lack of courage but rather commenting onthe cultural politics of the NBA and the ways in which both the league and itsfans demand silence from its player, a fact that reflects new racism atworse.  Be visible, play, and evenmake money but don't dare speak about injustices, inequalities, or theconditions of labor. In other words, "shut up and play."
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David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in theDepartment of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington StateUniversity, Pullman. He is the author of ScreensFade to Black: Contemporary African American Cinema and the forthcoming After Artest: Race and the War on Hoop(SUNY Press). Leonard is a regular contributor to NewBlackMan and blogs @ No Tsuris.