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Risk and Redemption


Fairly new site The Wrestling Daily has a nice article up about the importance and intricacies of being a "heel," which for those of you not familiar with the parlance is pro wrestling's foil to the (baby-) "face." The article's author Mike Bessler talks about the great themes central to all stories throughout history: suffering and redemption. It's a nice piece in the kind of series TWD looks to produce, and Bessler's series is all about villains. Obviously the NBA is a beast differing from that presented by pro wrestling, but it's not a lesson we NBA heads can't learn from. I've written before about the need of villains in the present day pro basketball scene. I've just never considered it through the poignant lens of suffering and redemption, which when you get down to it is just plain silly of me.

See, even though pro basketball is not scripted as is pro wrestling, it is sculpted from the clay of career long narratives that etch themselves into the public's consciousness. More so, I'd argue, than any other sport, which is also why it's by far the most prolifically covered sport in the blogosphere. However, some close observers of the league have begun to sour on the trajectories on which present NBA stars have been taking their careers. Or, at least I have. Rivalries have been weak and have lacked any real fuel with which to fan flames. The league is plagued by an abundance of "faces," and a veritable absence of "heels." Much the opposite of today's WWE, as it were.


Now, I'm not saying I want a return to the pitiable days of the Jail Blazers or the Malice at the Palace. And really I think conglomerations of badness like those helped to usher in this Golden Calf age. Players are scared to look like a thug, and instead the end up looking like petulant young men when they make the inevitable mistake or two. What I am (still) clamoring for is a bit of a trajectory to these narratives, instead of the constant brick throws I've been seeing.

I know it's a bit tired to keep looking askance of the best player on the planet, holding him up to the phosphorescence left behind by the Greatest of All Time, but bear with me. Last week, Jared Wade of Hardwood Paroxysm wrote about the perfect career trajectory of Michael Jordan. Well written, well argued, kudos. Here's where the pro wrestling reference comes into play. Bessler says narratives are made memorable out of suffering and redemption. Often in wrestling, the suffering comes from an outside source, a "heel." Thus, redemption can be achieved by defeating the heel. In basketball, I would argue, players are more often likely to find their greatest tormentors come from within, or from society at large. The Bird-Magic rivalry was great because Bird was the perfect heel to Magic's golden boy, million-watt-smile persona. And, yes, it's not impossible to have a heel people can adore or even root for on a casual basis. The point is the persona with which a star's impression is made.


Julius Erving y Larry Bird (1984), originally uploaded by Vedia.
Jordan's early career suffering came at the hands of all the old powers that held his ascension back. He busted through that barrrier in 1991. Then came the personal demons. His father's death. His depature for baseball. His gambling. We loved watching him climb the mountain to redemption again. More importantly though, then came the second reign. He was so dominant that the rest of the league was suffering, and we only saw that once he retired. He became the quintessential, perennially powerful heel. Bessler writes about Ric Flair as playing a similar role in pro wrestling, the difference being Flair was always able to put over his opponents. But Jordan is not the persona to examine here.

I want to, of course, look at Lebron James. I want to put these, his early years into perspective. If you compare him to Jordan, then yes he's still got a bit of rising to do, and the jury is still out. Suffering is not always immediate. Lebron has seemed to overcome challenges so inexorably that there's very little suffering evident, and thus very little redemption. The antics that have painted him a bit negatively over the last few months have seemed a little out of character. People were surprised when he refuses to shake the hands of the Orlando Magic after Cleveland's playoff defeat. They were surprised about the controversy over the tape of him getting dunked on. Some of them wrote it off as his youth; others said it was the real character in him coming out. When looked at through the lens of suffering, however, it makes perfect sense. Lebron has been in the league for six years now and has had a bevy of success. He's made it to the finals, but he still hasn't won that first ring. Now is when the narrative arc is really supposed to start kicking in. These two incidents in the King's non-reign are just the outpouring of the frustration that is starting to build. It's the beginning of the King's heel turn.

The greatest players, at least in terms of recognition, have all made that turn at some point in their careers. This is why, in my opinion, Olajuwon doesn't make all time great lists ahead of Abdul-Jabar. Maybe Abdul-Jabar in the end was a more prominent player, but he also had a more prominent persona colored by a bit of heel heat. The same can be said for Shaq as opposed to David Robinson, or Kobe instead of Duncan as the prominent player post-Jordan. These players are comparable when it comes to play on the court, but guys like Kobe, Shaq, and Kareem hold a longer lasting legacy because of their rounded out persona in the public's eye. As of six months ago, Lebron was relatively two-dimensional. He was a great player who came off a little too slick. There was no suffering there, at least none the people can relate to. Will he acquire a little more heat and get "over" with the NBA narrative aficionados? We'll see. Will he he have his "We're going to rip their hearts out" moment like Kobe? Honestly, I hope so.

One other wrinkle for this dichotomous lens: Stephon Marbury and Ron Artest. As the last of the post-Jordan era stars fade out of relevance (prime examples of strong trajectories nearing their ends are Garnett and Iverson), the last great heels seem to have entered the final chapter of their legacies. Stephon is firmly entrenched in the suffering that has plagued his last few years in and out of the league. It seemed he achieved a bit of redemption last season with his successful stint with the Celtics. The hope was that he would find some team where he could contribute positively this off season. Instead, it looks like all that suffering has adled his brain, and he is no longer the intriguing persona that could captivate fans and make New Yorkers whisper of a new era. Rather, he's become a figure deserving of pity and not much else. Artest, on the other hand, is still curving up and down with how the public regards him. He was looking good for awhile there in Houston, but now stories are leaking out about his running around in underwear and little else. Um. Anyway, the time in LA will he be a successful undercard heel that people will appreciate years from now, like say Dennis Rodman, or will he go the route of Latrell Sprewell, where people just kind of shake their heads and try not to remember?

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