Sports allow the fan to project our personal metaphors onto the actors on stage, we identify with the players as if they represent our own identities. That’s why Nike goes out of their way to personify these superstar athletes as a knowable entity, for it comforts us to know that Michael Jordan wears the same underwear as us mere mortals. We proudly wear Kobe’s shoes as if they will give us a psychological boost at the rec center, and even the off-court antics of Blake Griffin market him as this extremely fun and likable guy that you’d love to chill with.
However, the facade works the other way too. Kobe and Jordan are marketed as transcendental legends who defy expectation, we can never truly know Jordan or Kobe. Who is the real Jordan, the mystical skywalker who won our hearts on primetime television? Or the compulsive gambler who preferred the nightlife to a loving family? No matter how high Kobe climbs, the ghosts of that Denver courtroom will never truly leave him. Every record he breaks is a step closer to Jordan, to perfection, to being the best there ever was.
But I personally value something other than perfection, as I wish more observers of sports could peek behind the flash of the NBA to truly witness the substantive. It saddens me to see so many people blindly cheer Blake Griffin, as his highlight reel doesn’t necessarily vindicate his petulant nature. Flash won’t make up for a lackadaisical attitude towards defense or developing real skill moves to complement his athleticism. Moreover, Blake Griffin’s name is announced last during player introductions, because he is the flashy star who has played his entire (yet short) career with the Clippers. People stand up and cheer for a Griffin highlight in a ways they could never do with the true leader of the Clippers.
While personally devastating to see Chris Paul denied his chance in a Lakers uniform, it was of some small comfort to know he’d still be in Los Angeles. Seeing CP3 in person was a bucket list item that I got to cross off on Wednesday night, when the Clippers hosted the Denver Nuggets.
And which brings me to Chris Paul. Chris Paul is an oxymoron and paradox, for he is one of the most underrated superstars in sports. To be a premier All-NBA talent, yet be overshadowed by his own teammate whose greatest skill is dunking. He lacks the viral-friendly playfulness of Steve Nash or the sheer athleticism of Derrick Rose, but all statistical and qualitative measures should vindicate him as the best point guard in the league.
“True” point guards are a rarity in the NBA. The prototypical point guard is the traffic cop of the offense, he is the first line of defense. The true point guard looks to get all his teammates involved by making the right play, not necessarily looking to score first. However, he must be quick and capable of creating his own shot off the dribble, to suck defenders into the lane. He must be a reliable shooter to keep defenders honest, a poor jump shot will invite defenders to back away. You can always tell the difference from a point guard and anyone else who’s simply good at scoring, a point guard keeps his head up at all times to scan for cutters and open shooters. While that guy at the rec center has already made his mind on shooting, regardless of whatever’s in front of him.
By this measure, Chris Paul exceeds at every level.
…Except winning.
It’s frustrating for a competitive player of his talents, to watch his contemporaries succeed as he remained stuck in a small-market team without a decent supporting cast. He gave New Orleans everything he could, but they could never have competed in the long term against the might and money of the Lakers, the Mavericks, even the cost-efficient Spurs. Watching LeBron, Carmelo, and Deron Williams leave their teams for better markets surely influenced his decision to leave for Los Angeles. No one, even in New Orleans, could have begrudged Paul’s opportunity to play alongside a rising star like Griffin in a city like LA. The Clippers became an instant contender with a leader like Paul, and they’re looking rather good at the All-Star Break.
What do I see in Chris Paul, what do I identify with?
I’ve always been the point guard. I am a point guard. I don’t mean the style of basketball that I try to play, but the metaphorical sense of person. If sports is a metaphor, and basketball is the game of life, my ideal position is the point guard. I don’t need any individual glory, for my success is judged by the overall character of my teammates. I want to push friends and strangers alike into the right direction, I want to assist them in reaching their dreams and goals. I want to be the caretaker, the dad, the designated driver who looks after my friends. And when there’s a fast-break going other way, I’m willing to throw my body in front of the train because I am gladly the first guy back on defense, I will protect you at all costs. If we win, I win.
This is why I love to talk and mentor younger friends, this is even why I want to work in development. The goal is to push people into the right direction, whether it’s encouraging a friend studying for a test or building progressive societies towards prosperity and equality. There is a point guard mentality in my head and my heart. Compassion, humility, and a commitment to the common good are prerequisites for the ideal point guard. I believe Chris Paul exemplifies the best of these traits. He is perhaps the only player in the league who can easily score 20-30 points a game, and not be called a ball-hog (…eyebrow towards Kobe…). To watch him dominate the Nuggets for 36 points and 9 assists on Wednesday night was immensely satisfying, and I left the building extremely pleased to have cross off another item on my bucket list. I wish him and the Clippers well, because I hope he gets his ring one day.
And I? I know that someday too I will win (If the team wins, of course).