boutons
11-22-2004, 04:57 AM
November 22, 2004
By HARVEY ARATON
WITH the apparent exception of the red-faced commissioner,
David Stern, it was difficult to find an N.B.A. person
inside Madison Square Garden last night who didn't feel
some sympathy for Ron Artest's receiving a season-ending
suspension in what Stern called a unanimous decision on the
part of the league.
"One-nothing," Stern said with the glower befitting his
surname. "My decision."
Charles Smith, a former Knick and one of the more
enlightened thinkers to have passed through the Garden,
winced when he heard the news. Jamison Brewer, a Knicks
reserve who was Artest's friend the last couple of years
while they were with the Pacers, called the suspension
crazy and said most players in Artest's position would have
reacted the same way.
Cleveland Coach Paul Silas said Artest should have been
given credit for backing away from the Pistons' Ben Wallace
and "minding his own business" on the press table until he
was hit in the chest with a plastic cup and proceeded to
provoke a riot.
For breaking what Stern called "the social contract"
between players and fans, Artest goes away for the
remainder of the Indiana Pacers' season the way Latrell
Sprewell disappeared in 1997 for trying to choke the life
out of his coach, P. J. Carlesimo. The Sprewell case became
complicated, with social and racial implications. Justified
or not, this one is bound to as well.
It is the instinct of the player to side with his
contemporary, and the union to fight the suspension for
him, as the union chief Billy Hunter promised to do last
night. But it is Stern's responsibility to make sure this
repulsive episode doesn't spin out of control the way
events did Friday night at the Palace of Auburn Hills and
wind up doing irreparable damage to his league, taking
money out of everyone's pockets, including his own. These
matters are usually more about finances than fairness, no
matter where they rank on the all-time list.
The old-timers have a prideful romanticism about the
brawling old days in outposts like Syracuse and Fort Wayne.
Before the Knicks beat the Cavaliers last night, 98-88,
Silas recalled an Atlanta night when he and Phil Jackson
got into it, and Lou Hudson set Willis Reed off with a
punch, and Nate Bowman and Bill Bridges wound up wrestling
in the stands, Bowman taking a beating from fans.
Except that was 1968, long before the explosion of the news
media and access to every nook and cranny of the sporting
universe. By the end of the weekend, who in America hadn't
seen Artest's cheap foul on Wallace with 45 seconds left in
a decisive Pacers victory? Who hadn't cringed at the sight
of Artest and Stephen Jackson attacking fans - criminally,
perhaps - they had no way of knowing were guilty of
anything more than running their foul mouths? How many
people had already made unflattering generalizations about
the state of David Stern's league?
Frankly, I've already heard too many diatribes begin with
"These guys," which always sounds to me like "These black
thugs with tattoos and cornrows." I would point out that
not one of "these guys" has gone into the stands in nine
years. In 1995, it was Vernon Maxwell, a talented but
troubled player, an Artest of his time.
When hockey players climb over the glass, or bash each
other with sticks, individuals are persecuted or
prosecuted, not the entire N.H.L. Attitudes and imagery
being what they are, Stern recognized that he had to send a
powerful message to the public on behalf of the business.
He said his decision was helped by Artest's long rap sheet.
Even Artest's friend Jamison admitted, "The whole season,
that's crazy, but we all know that Ron kept putting himself
in the position where all eyes were on him."
Worse fouls have been committed by Artest, among others,
than the one on Wallace, but did you notice how he
positioned himself after the play, right in the lane, chest
out, inviting Wallace to respond? Did you see how quickly
Artest, supposedly chilling on the table, bolted into the
crowd just when the on-court altercation was coming under
control?
I have sympathy for Artest as a man with anger-management
issues but much more for Jermaine O'Neal, suspended 25
games, and the other players who were sucked into this ugly
scene and acted deplorably, albeit under chaotic and
frightening conditions. I have more for the Pacers' players
whose season is in ruins, and the Indiana ticket holders
and all the N.B.A. players whose good reputations will
undoubtedly suffer.
Ron Artest needs help. He has the rest of the season to get
it.
E-mail: [email protected]
By HARVEY ARATON
WITH the apparent exception of the red-faced commissioner,
David Stern, it was difficult to find an N.B.A. person
inside Madison Square Garden last night who didn't feel
some sympathy for Ron Artest's receiving a season-ending
suspension in what Stern called a unanimous decision on the
part of the league.
"One-nothing," Stern said with the glower befitting his
surname. "My decision."
Charles Smith, a former Knick and one of the more
enlightened thinkers to have passed through the Garden,
winced when he heard the news. Jamison Brewer, a Knicks
reserve who was Artest's friend the last couple of years
while they were with the Pacers, called the suspension
crazy and said most players in Artest's position would have
reacted the same way.
Cleveland Coach Paul Silas said Artest should have been
given credit for backing away from the Pistons' Ben Wallace
and "minding his own business" on the press table until he
was hit in the chest with a plastic cup and proceeded to
provoke a riot.
For breaking what Stern called "the social contract"
between players and fans, Artest goes away for the
remainder of the Indiana Pacers' season the way Latrell
Sprewell disappeared in 1997 for trying to choke the life
out of his coach, P. J. Carlesimo. The Sprewell case became
complicated, with social and racial implications. Justified
or not, this one is bound to as well.
It is the instinct of the player to side with his
contemporary, and the union to fight the suspension for
him, as the union chief Billy Hunter promised to do last
night. But it is Stern's responsibility to make sure this
repulsive episode doesn't spin out of control the way
events did Friday night at the Palace of Auburn Hills and
wind up doing irreparable damage to his league, taking
money out of everyone's pockets, including his own. These
matters are usually more about finances than fairness, no
matter where they rank on the all-time list.
The old-timers have a prideful romanticism about the
brawling old days in outposts like Syracuse and Fort Wayne.
Before the Knicks beat the Cavaliers last night, 98-88,
Silas recalled an Atlanta night when he and Phil Jackson
got into it, and Lou Hudson set Willis Reed off with a
punch, and Nate Bowman and Bill Bridges wound up wrestling
in the stands, Bowman taking a beating from fans.
Except that was 1968, long before the explosion of the news
media and access to every nook and cranny of the sporting
universe. By the end of the weekend, who in America hadn't
seen Artest's cheap foul on Wallace with 45 seconds left in
a decisive Pacers victory? Who hadn't cringed at the sight
of Artest and Stephen Jackson attacking fans - criminally,
perhaps - they had no way of knowing were guilty of
anything more than running their foul mouths? How many
people had already made unflattering generalizations about
the state of David Stern's league?
Frankly, I've already heard too many diatribes begin with
"These guys," which always sounds to me like "These black
thugs with tattoos and cornrows." I would point out that
not one of "these guys" has gone into the stands in nine
years. In 1995, it was Vernon Maxwell, a talented but
troubled player, an Artest of his time.
When hockey players climb over the glass, or bash each
other with sticks, individuals are persecuted or
prosecuted, not the entire N.H.L. Attitudes and imagery
being what they are, Stern recognized that he had to send a
powerful message to the public on behalf of the business.
He said his decision was helped by Artest's long rap sheet.
Even Artest's friend Jamison admitted, "The whole season,
that's crazy, but we all know that Ron kept putting himself
in the position where all eyes were on him."
Worse fouls have been committed by Artest, among others,
than the one on Wallace, but did you notice how he
positioned himself after the play, right in the lane, chest
out, inviting Wallace to respond? Did you see how quickly
Artest, supposedly chilling on the table, bolted into the
crowd just when the on-court altercation was coming under
control?
I have sympathy for Artest as a man with anger-management
issues but much more for Jermaine O'Neal, suspended 25
games, and the other players who were sucked into this ugly
scene and acted deplorably, albeit under chaotic and
frightening conditions. I have more for the Pacers' players
whose season is in ruins, and the Indiana ticket holders
and all the N.B.A. players whose good reputations will
undoubtedly suffer.
Ron Artest needs help. He has the rest of the season to get
it.
E-mail: [email protected]