When Fans Become Fanatics, the NBA Must Act Decisively
Prince once said that he did not want fans because "fan" is just short for "fanatic"; he called the people who truly love his music "friends."A small but vocal, ignorant, and active number of NBA "fans" are proving Prince's point. This is not about people who buy tickets to cheer the home team, or even boo the road team; this is about people who think that a ticket's limited license provides unlimited license to act like a fool, to say ignorant and hateful things, and even to attack another person.
Last night, while Russell Westbrook left the court after suffering an ankle injury, a "fan" dumped popcorn on Westbrook. This is not the first time that "fans" have acted like ignorant fools toward Westbrook (and other players, but he seems to be a favorite target for abuse), and the NBA must act decisively to stop this before it gets even more out of hand.
Although statutes vary from state to state, the general template for an assault statute is that assault is defined by creating the apprehension (which means awareness, not necessarily fear) that a person is imminently going to make unwanted and offensive contact with your body--and the general template for a battery statute is that a person has made unwanted and offensive contact with your body. Assault and battery are actionable both under civil law (i.e., the victim can sue for damages) and criminal law (i.e., the state can prosecute the perpetrator).
If Westbrook saw what the "fan" was doing before the "fan" dumped popcorn on Westbrook, then Westbrook is the victim of assault. Being hit by the popcorn makes Westbrook a victim of battery.
Today, the Philadelphia 76ers (the home team) announced that the perpetrator has been banned "indefinitely," adding, "We apologize to Russell Westbrook and the Washington Wizards for being
subjected to this type of unacceptable and disrespectful behavior. There is no place for it in our
sport or arena."
The NBA also issued a statement: "The return of more NBA fans to our arenas has brought great excitement
and energy to the start of the playoffs, but it is critical that we all
show respect for players, officials and our fellow fans. An enhanced fan code of conduct will be vigorously enforced in
order to ensure a safe and respectful environment for all involved."
In a related story, the New York Knicks have "indefinitely" banned the "fan" who spat on Atlanta Hawks guard Trae Young.
Banning criminals from attending sporting events is not a sufficient response, and a more effective response must happen before something tragic occurs. The 76ers, Knicks, and any other team whose "fans" commit criminal acts should provide any available evidence to the authorities for possible criminal prosecution. It is unlikely that it would be worth it for Westbrook or Young to pursue civil action--each would have to prove damages, and even if they proved damages they would only collect to the extent that the perpetrators are able to pay--but if the league and the teams acted decisively then "fans" would learn that buying a ticket is not a license to commit mayhem.
Right now, "fans" feel protected and entitled--this is the "internet tough guy" writ large--but the NBA can nip this in the bud with correct and decisive action. Adam Silver, the ball is in your court.
Labels: NBA, Prince, Russell Westbrook, Trae Young
posted by David Friedman @ 6:12 PM
Personal Reflections on the Life and Death of Kobe Bryant
Like many people, I am still in shock after hearing that Kobe Bryant died--along with eight others, including his 13 year old daughter Gianna--in a helicopter crash in California. Bryant retired from the NBA in 2016 as an old basketball player after a 20 year career--and he dropped the curtain on his final act as a player as only he could,
scoring 60 points against the Utah franchise that once watched him fire up three airballs down the stretch in a playoff game--so it is easy to forget that Bryant was still a young man in real life.
Kobe Bryant died at 41. He should have had several decades of life in front of him and, after making one of the smoothest and most successful transitions ever from the basketball court to the wider world, every indication suggested that Bryant would be just as confident, driven and accomplished in his future endeavors as he had been as a basketball player.
As I gathered my thoughts to write this tribute, part of me did not want to post it at all, nursing a child-like hope that if I don't write about Bryant's death maybe it will not turn out to be real.
Thoughts, images and feelings overwhelmed me as the horrible news was confirmed as real, and as my mind slowly accepted the grim truth.
I thought of
Mike Anders, my friend who died--along with his two passengers--seven years ago on his 58th birthday when his private plane that he was piloting crashed into a home in Florida.
I thought of Lenny Bruce, who died at 40, and what Dick Schaap--who later died at 67 after a botched hip replacement surgery--wrote of Bruce, whose comedy routines had been called obscene: "Dead. At forty. That's obscene." Schaap, the only person ever to serve as a voter for both the Heisman Trophy and the Tony Awards, inspired a short story that I wrote about
Wilt Chamberlain and Bobby Fischer.
I thought of quoting Schaap's line about Lenny Bruce after
Prince died four years ago at 57.
I thought of how Schaap, who admired athletes--and people--who displayed depth, versatility, and intelligence, would have made an insightful commentary piece after Bryant became the first NBA MVP to win an Oscar.
I thought about Bryant being inducted into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame posthumously just a few months from now. We will never hear Kobe Bryant's Hall of Fame induction speech. That is far from the biggest loss in this tragedy, but it is a loss, and it is certainly a shame that Bryant will not get to share that moment with his family. Would Bryant's speech have relived past grievances like Michael Jordan did? Would Bryant have been emotional? I think that Bryant would have talked more about his family, and his upcoming endeavors, than about the past, though I also think that he would have thanked his coaches--in particular, Phil Jackson and Tex Winter--and I think that he would have acknowledged Shaquille O'Neal, possibly with a combination of humor and seriousness.
All of those thoughts brought me full circle to the profound depths of this multi-pronged tragedy. This tragedy is fundamentally not a basketball story, even though this helicopter crash claimed the life of one of the
members of pro basketball's Pantheon. Bryant's 13 year old daughter perished, so her sisters are now mourning both their father and their sibling. One aspect of this tragedy that I have not heard mentioned yet is that Joe Bryant and his wife Pam are burying their son and their granddaughter. A parent should never have to bury a child and a grandchild.
It is understandable but unfortunate that when a famous person dies alongside non-celebrities that the reporting of the situation mentions "others"--we learn that Kobe Bryant, his daughter Gianna and "seven others" died, but those seven human beings are not "others" to their families, friends, colleagues, and co-workers: each of those people is unique and precious, and on a human level all of these lost lives are equally important.
The stories of all of the victims should be told and cherished.
From a personal standpoint, though, the only victim who I knew was Kobe Bryant, and this article is a personal reflection on my interactions with and writings about Kobe Bryant.
I have written many articles about Kobe Bryant, because during a significant amount of the time that I actively covered the league he was the NBA's best player. Long-time readers know that my favorite player of all-time is Julius Erving, my childhood hero; I will never enjoy watching a basketball player as much as I enjoyed watching Julius Erving. Erving retired when I was 15, just before Scottie Pippen's rookie season. Pippen reminded me of Erving in many ways, and he was my favorite NBA player throughout his career, and--along with Pete Maravich--is behind only Erving on my personal all-time favorite list.
Erving is old enough to be my father, while Pippen is about six years older than I am. Bryant entered the NBA straight out of high school when I was already a college graduate in my mid-twenties. My default tendency with young players is to assume that they are overly-hyped by the media and will not be great; the reality is that most NBA players will
not be great. I was skeptical of Bryant at first, but one moment that suggested to me that he had a chance to be great is a moment that many others viewed as a failure and a sign of hubris: the infamous playoff game versus Utah when Bryant shot three airballs. What I noticed were not the missed shots but rather (1) Bryant was very clearly the only Laker who wanted to take those pressure shots and (2) Bryant did not seem the slightest bit fazed by the misses. He truly expected to make every shot that he took. This was not hubris, but confidence earned by hours of work on the practice court.
When Pippen and Bryant faced each other in the 2000 Western Conference Finals, I rooted for Pippen. Over time, my respect and admiration for Bryant grew, and I also noticed that--in his own way--Bryant was underrated and unappreciated, much as Pippen and even Erving to some extent were also not fully valued. Still, for me the process of following players and teams well into my adulthood was a different rooting experience than the one I felt for Erving and for Pippen when I was a child or teenager choosing a favorite player.
When I first interviewed Erving, that was the fulfillment of a childhood dream. When I first interviewed Pippen, it was an opportunity to speak with one of my favorite players about several different subjects. When I first interviewed Bryant, it was a chance to talk with the NBA's best player in his prime.
During one of those Bryant interviews,
I spoke with him about those Utah airballs. The exchange began when another media member asked Bryant about an argument that his teammates Lamar Odom and Sasha Vujacic had during the Lakers' loss to the Pacers:
Bryant replied, "There's nothing you can do about it. That's what I was
telling them. It was almost comical. There's nothing you can do about
shouting and yelling. If my wife is mad because I didn't put the toilet
seat down, what am I going to do? I have to put it down the next time.
What are you going to do? You can't sit there and bark my head off. I
didn't put it down; I'll put it down the next time. Right? You've got to
move on. You've got to forget about it and move on to the next play.
Especially as a guard, you have to be able to detach yourself from the
game somewhat. Sasha cares so much about trying to do the right thing
that he gets too wrapped up into the game emotionally. He's got to be
able to step back from that and be more calm...In this type of offense
you really have to learn how to be fluid and really separate yourself
from the game. That is one of Phil's big teaching points. You can't go
out there and play so emotionally that you kind of lose your way."
Vujacic
is still learning how to do this, Bryant added: "It's a challenge for
him. It's just like learning how to handle the ball or learning how to
shoot. It's part of the game. Phil is a master of teaching that and once
he (Vujacic) understands how to separate himself emotionally I think
that things will sharpen up for him, because then it becomes
inconsequential whether you have a turnover or you get fouled or you
miss a shot. You just forget about it and move on to the next play."
By
this point, it was getting late and the other media members left, so I
was the last one remaining as Bryant headed out of the locker room and
toward the team bus. I mentioned to him that he always has had the kind
of focus that Vujacic is still trying to develop--bad plays never seemed
to dissuade Bryant, even as a young player. I said to him, "Other
players never learn that (how to focus) or it takes them a lot longer."
Bryant replied, "I was a big Bruce Lee fan growing up. Watching him and
analyzing him, listening to his philosophies kind of carried with me.
Once I came into the NBA and once Phil came on board, he has a similar
philosophy--you can't top it."
The classic early example of
Bryant's confidence and unflappability, of course, is the three air
balls that he shot against the Utah Jazz in a playoff game. I told
Bryant, "I'll never forget that game because a lot of people were
saying, 'What is that guy doing? He's the youngest guy on the team and
he keeps shooting these airballs.' I said at the time, 'No, he's going
to be a great player because he keeps thinking he's going to make it.
Eventually, he's going to be making them.'"
Bryant laughed as he
recalled that snapshot from his early struggles and said, "For better or
worse, I'm very optimistic. I'm glad that I don't have a gambling
vice."
I did not interact directly with Bryant nearly as much as many other
media members who covered the L.A. Lakers on a daily basis, or who
regularly worked the national NBA beat--but I interviewed Bryant on
multiple occasions in Cleveland, in Indianapolis, and at various NBA
All-Star weekend media availability sessions. As an interview subject, I always found him to be intelligent and direct.
I first met Bryant in Denver during the 2005 NBA All-Star Weekend. Here are some excerpts from one of his
2005 All-Star media availability sessions:
Is it as much of a challenge to fight for the final playoff spot as it was to fight for the championship?
KB:
The challenges are in essence the same. Once you get to the top, the
hard work becomes staying on top. But you have to work to get there.
Sometimes it is really, really tough to get over that hump. You saw
Minnesota last year was able to get over that hump and this year it is a
struggle for them. It is a work in progress. You always have to be on
edge. You
always have to take every practice, every game, like it is your last.
It's tough. If we weren't so optimistic, we'd think that the second half of
the season is going to be the absolute pits. But we look forward to this
challenge. When your back is against the wall, you have no other option
but to come out swinging. We have to approach every practice in an
extremely detailed and extremely methodical manner.
Your team is increasingly using a little more of the triangle all the time.
How do you feel about the constitution of this team to run the triangle?
KB: We're
doing a good job. It's tough because we're trying to learn it on the
fly. You know how hard it is to learn it when you have training camp.
We're doing a good job, though. Got a call from Tex (Winter) and he told
us that we're doing well. That's the biggest compliment in the world,
when you get a compliment from Tex. Tex is such a great basketball mind.
When he gives you a compliment it really warms up your heart.
Do you ever call him?
KB:
He came down early in the season and then he came again recently, maybe
it was two and a half weeks ago. We exchanged numbers. I've called him
several times since then. I love Tex. If it weren't for Tex, I wouldn't
look at the game or interpret the game the way that I do. The way that
he teaches the game is different than any other coach that I've ever
been around.
What specifically is different about it?
KB:
He looks at the game in a different way. He actually teaches
momentums--how to build momentums and how to break momentums. He looks
at the
total concept of the game and then plays it like chess. It's amazing to
sit there and learn. When he teaches you something, you go out on the
court and you apply that knowledge and it actually works. You start
looking at him like he's Yoda.
A Jedi master.
KB: I'm telling you, it's just incredible.
Tex
has always had testy exchanges with the people he's coached. When you
had your testy exchanges with him people didn't quite understand that.
Why is that?
KB:
I don't know. It doesn't really matter what they think. It's obvious to
see that when we had those exchanges, people just really blew it out of
proportion. If it were true (that there is friction), Tex and I would
not be as close as we are today
So the press somehow got that distorted?
KB:
Yeah, it usually shakes out that way. The truth always comes out, so I
don't worry about it. I don't think about it. It's going to shake out.
People who talk about me in a negative manner don't know me. They don't
know me. If they had a chance to be around me and kick it with me and
get to know me, then they can judge. I think that will come out as years
go by. People will see how I truly am and what I'm truly about and
everything will be all right.
I covered six NBA All-Star Games (2005-10), including two of the four when Bryant won or shared the All-Star Game MVP (
2007,
2009). What I remember most about Bryant's All-Star Game performances--both the ones that I attended, and the ones that I watched on TV--is that his intensity level was generally at least one notch above that of most of the other players.
Bryant considered NBA championships--not MVPs, not scoring titles, not individual statistics--to be the ultimate goal and the ultimate measuring stick. He won five NBA titles (2000-02, 09-10) and two Finals MVPs (2009-10). My extensive, detailed coverage of Bryant's post-2006 playoff runs is easy to find by searching this site. Bryant shined in the postseason, unlike many stars/so-called stars whose games noticeably regress when the lights are the brightest. The reason for this is that Bryant had no skill set weaknesses. Tim Legler spoke on Sirius XM NBA Radio shortly after Bryant's death, and Legler said that Bryant had the best fundamentals and footwork of any player he has ever seen.
Bryant also won Olympic gold medals in 2008 and 2012. He was the driving force for the
2008 "Redeem Team" that reasserted America's preeminent ranking in FIBA basketball after Team USA had suffered several embarrassing losses (sans Bryant) in FIBA competitions.
Bryant's pain tolerance, work ethic, and toughness are legendary. He drained two free throws after rupturing his Achilles. You were never going to see Bryant hustled off of the court in a wheelchair only to "miraculously" appear back on the court a few minutes later. Bryant kept playing in the 2012 All-Star Game after a blow from Dwyane Wade broke Bryant's nose and gave Bryant a mild concussion. Bryant recently voiced his objection to the whole "load management" trend; much like Michael Jordan, Bryant took great pride in bringing his best effort every game.
After Bryant announced his retirement, I posted a lengthy retrospective on his career, packed with article excerpts and links:
Looking Back on the Kobe Bryant Era.
I just watched SportsCenter's memorial tribute to Kobe Bryant. Delaying the posting of this article will not change the sad reality. It was an honor and a privilege to cover Kobe Bryant, to have the opportunity to speak with him, and to attempt to correct false media narratives about Bryant's game. I feel the weight of tremendous sadness for the second act of Bryant's life that will go incomplete, for his daughter who will never reach adulthood, and for all of the family members of all of the victims who are left to ponder the sheer, inexplicable senselessness of their sudden loss.
For some people, it takes a tragedy to help them appreciate life and their loved ones. I can honestly say that I have always cherished every moment with my precious daughter Rachel, and despite trials and tribulations she and I continue to cherish every moment. Fatherhood has brought out the best in me, and it seems that this was also true for Bryant. I ache for his loss at not being able to finish raising his daughters, and at their loss of being deprived of being raised by him.
This weekend, I expected to write an article about LeBron James passing Kobe Bryant on pro basketball's career scoring list. I never imagined that the weekend would end like this. Even as I prepare to click "publish," this does not seem real. I wish it were just one of those intense, realistic nightmares that even after you wake up still seem like half memory and half dream.
Life is cruel, but also beautiful.
Labels: Dick Schaap, Gianna Bryant, Kobe Bryant, L.A. Lakers, Lenny Bruce, Mike Anders, NBA, Prince
posted by David Friedman @ 1:48 AM
Mano a Mano Competition is Pure
"It's nice to be modest, but it would be stupid if I did not tell the truth. It is Fischer."--Bobby Fischer's response to a question about who is the greatest chess player."On the chess board lies and hypocrisy do not survive long. The creative combination lays bare the presumption of a lie; the merciless fact, culminating in a checkmate, contradicts the hypocrite."--Dr. Emanuel Lasker, World Chess Champion from 1894-1921In a recent interview with Tavis Smiley, Prince
explains why he prefers the pure competition found in sports like golf, basketball and boxing to the nonsense he deals with in the music business (his comments about those subjects can be found starting at the 11:10 mark of Part II of the interview).
Prince's newest three CD set
(LOtUSFLOW3R/MPLSoUND/Elixer)
debuted in the number two sales position despite receiving little if any radio airplay--and Prince told Smiley that his CD set may in fact have had the most sales: "SoundScan said that it was number two. Other
charts say that it was number one. So, it doesn't make a difference to me one way or another. What makes a difference to me is that history is told truthfully and that's not always the case. I love golf and basketball and sports--and boxing especially--because it is mano a mano." Prince--or at least his new music--has been effectively banished from the radio because he has chosen to distribute his work via his own website and in cooperation with Target, as opposed to conforming to the traditional norms of the music industry. Prince owns his recording masters and controls his fate and it is quite an accomplishment to vault nearly to the top of the charts despite working outside of the music industry's tired, old infrastructure.
Prince's comment about relishing "mano a mano" battles resonates with me on a very deep level. I recently won the
Dayton Chess Club Championship for a record seventh time (1997, 1999-2000, 2002, 2004, 2007, 2009) and I have a U.S. Chess Federation rating over 2000, which classifies me as an "Expert" and places me somewhere around the 95th percentile of American chess players. I love chess for many reasons--the game is part art, part science, part raw blooded competition--but one of the best things about chess is that your performance can be immediately and objectively quantified: you win, lose or draw and your rating is adjusted accordingly (often within 24 hours thanks to the internet/computers). Facing someone over the chessboard is much like going into a boxing ring--you are battling one on one against your opponent and it does not matter how rich you are, how popular you are or who you know: if you don't bring everything you've got then you will get knocked out. Boxers are taught to "protect yourself at all times" and I deliver a similar message to my chess students, because one lapse in concentration can completely turn a game around; if my last round DCC Championship game had been a boxing match then you could say I was losing on all of the judges' cards but my opponent made one critical error that enabled me to obtain a draw (and thus win the tournament).
You may have in mind a certain stereotype regarding chess players but I have played in USCF tournaments since 1987 and the truth is that most tournaments consist of a diverse socioeconomic melting pot; a young child from a poor neighborhood may very well be a much stronger player than a middle aged corporate executive. While a person's intrinsic worth is obviously not reflected in his USCF rating, that rating is a very reliable indicator of his chess playing strength.
What does this have to do with basketball? It can objectively be said that I am a relatively strong chess player (though there are obviously players who are much stronger than I am), but I think that it is pretty clear to anyone who understands both writing and chess that I am much "stronger" at writing than I am at chess. Over the years, some commenters here at 20 Second Timeout have asked why I don't market my writing to larger publications. The reality is that I have tried to do just that and, for someone who is in many ways an "outsider"--I don't have a journalism degree and have never worked for a newspaper--I have had a certain degree of success, landing pieces in national magazines like
Hoop,
Lindy's Pro Basketball and
Basketball Digest. Unfortunately, the writing business--like the music business--does not have objective ratings. There is no mano a mano competition; people who are completely unqualified to analyze either writing or basketball often determine who "wins" and who "loses."
I respect the way that Prince has successfully sidestepped the music industry's bureaucracy and found ways to deliver his art straight to the public; of course, he has the advantage of already being well known and he also possesses a certain degree of wealth, though his personal fortune is minuscule compared to the resources commanded by the recording companies he is snubbing. Similarly, George Lucas obtained enough capital to assert complete control over how his films are made and the way that they are distributed. Not only have I yet to discover a similar path in the writing field, I have had to endure the indignity--and the irony, considering how I feel about chess--of seeing my work
ripped off by an editor who
does not even know the most basic facts about NBA history. This is a strange business, though a stronger word than strange comes to mind.
My last round DCC Championship opponent--John Dowling, who many years ago obtained the National Master title (signified by a 2200 rating) that still eludes my grasp--collects chess-themed posters/artwork and he is generous enough to display many of these items at the DCC; the piercing visage of
Bobby Fischer "watched" over us during our battle for first place but my favorite poster reads, "A bad day playing chess beats a good day at work."
Labels: basketball, chess, music, Prince, Tavis Smiley, writing
posted by David Friedman @ 5:59 PM
"Flow," Basketball and Prince
Professor Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi has studied a phenomenon that he calls
"flow": "The metaphor of flow is one that many people have used to describe the sense of effortless action they feel in moments that stand out as the best in their lives. Athletes refer to it as 'being in the zone,' religious mystics as being in 'ecstasy,' artists and musicians as 'aesthetic rapture.'"
Kobe Bryant and LeBron James experience "flow" when they play basketball at a higher level than anyone else currently does--not that they are the only players who experience "flow" but they are quintessential examples of it, whether you want to cite Bryant's
81 point game or James'
48 point outburst in game five versus the Pistons in 2007. When you watch someone who is the best at his craft perform you feel like that person is doing something that he was born to do, though of course
it takes an enormous amount of "effortful study" to achieve what looks like effortless greatness. Tiger Woods stalking his prey on the back nine is another great example of "flow," as was
Bobby Fischer slaying top grandmasters as if they were children.
In the classic Star Trek episode "The City on the Edge of Forever," Edith Keeler, who does not know that Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock are from the future but suspects that they are not who they say they are, says to Kirk and Spock that they seem to be "out of place" in her world. Spock asks her where she "would estimate we belong" and she replies, "You--at his side, as if you've always been there and always will." Keeler's words--"as if you've always been there and always will"--are an apt description of the "flow" experience, of someone doing exactly what he enjoys doing and was meant to do; Kirk and Spock made a perfect team, as Keeler noted when she observed that even when Spock did not address Kirk as "Captain" it was as if he had said it. Although Scottie Pippen proved to be a fine soloist in 1994--
finishing third in MVP voting--after Michael Jordan temporarily retired, when Pippen played alongside Jordan it seemed as if he had "always been there and always will" be there because their games and skill sets blended so perfectly.
Actually, that Star Trek episode is also an example of "flow" in the sense that it was based on a masterfully crafted, award winning screenplay by Harlan Ellison, a screenplay that Ellison proudly proclaimed was so well written that even though he disagreed with changes that the show's producers made to his story they still could not destroy it (a great writer's ego is no less magnificent than the ego of a great athlete). Ellison's story powerfully examined the themes of destiny, friendship, loyalty and the danger of being ahead of one's time; Keeler envisioned a world of peace and cooperation but her pacifist views--if enacted into government policy at the time of the rise of Hitler--could have led to a victory for the Nazis (in one version of history portrayed in that episode, she led a pacifist movement that delayed America's entry into World War II, providing the Nazis enough time to develop the atomic bomb and conquer the world). As Spock said to Kirk, "She was right, but at the wrong time."
I have always enjoyed following the careers of performers who are able to achieve a "flow" state, particularly when they overcome or circumvent traditional norms. For instance, George Lucas used the money and influence that he gained from making "American Graffiti" to get the backing to film "Star Wars" and then he earned enough from "Star Wars" to achieve complete freedom from the Hollywood studio system, whereupon he removed himself from the mainstream bureaucracy of the film world and created his movies on his terms. Needless to say, most people do not have the necessary vision, courage and persistence to pull that off.
Prince has accomplished a similar feat in the music industry. He went from being a wunderkind at Warner Brothers who wrote, produced, delivered vocals and performed on an astounding variety of musical instruments to being a completely independent artist who dictates his own terms to record labels and distributors. Along the way, he received scorn for scrawling the word "slave" on his face and changing his name to an unpronounceable symbol but there was a method to his seeming madness: Warner Brothers wanted to control when and how he would distribute his music, while the incredibly prolific Prince simply wanted to release everything to the public as soon as he created it, whether or not this supposedly oversaturated the market. Since Warner Brothers owned his name (in a performing sense), Prince felt like a "slave" because he could not put his music out as Prince--so he circumvented the system with his "name change" until his Warner Brothers contract expired, whereupon he reclaimed his name and took total control over his music. Now he releases his music whenever and however he wants to, including his Planet Earth CD that
he arranged to be given away with a newspaper in Great Britain in order to promote a series of concerts; in one fell swoop, Prince made a small fortune (he was paid in advance by the newspaper), sold out most of his appearances instantly and irritated Sony BMG, the corporate giant that was supposed to distribute the CD to retailers: for a nonconformist genius, it is hard to imagine a better day than that!
Prince's new three CD set titled
LOtUSFLOW3R dropped on Sunday exclusively at Target and he promoted it by performing for three straight nights last week on the "Tonight Show With Jay Leno." For his finale on Friday, Prince sang "Feel Good, Feel Better, Feel Wonderful." I know that Prince is a big hoops fan and I swear that one verse of that song is supposed to represent what Kobe Bryant was thinking a few years back when he played with Kwame Brown: "I just can't recall what the ---- I was thinking when I threw you the ball/It hit three bystanders after you touched it/Now they want to sue me." Of course, Prince did not utter the "----" part because he has transitioned into a no profanity stage of his career after becoming notorious for some of his raunchy lyrics; it is interesting to observe the evolution of his efforts to balance the spiritual and carnal aspects of his personality, particularly because so many artists have struggled greatly with that dichotomy.
Prince dictated the format of his "Tonight Show" appearance, mainly that he would not be interviewed but instead would go straight into his performance after a brief introduction by Leno. The coolest thing about Prince--other than the amazing width and breadth of his musical talent--is that he has forged a path that enables him to uncompromisingly create his art and to share it with the world on his terms. If he does not want to sit on a couch and banter with a talk show host about banal topics then he simply won't do it; Prince knows that he is talented enough to merit being on the "Tonight Show" doing what he does best and he will not compromise anything to get what he deserves. You can bet that Prince would not have lost any sleep if the show's producers had rejected his terms; he simply would have gone ahead with his other plans and it would have been their loss, not his.
A lyric from Prince's new song "Ol' Skool Company" not only sums up the sad state of the music business but also is an apt description of the sad state of the writing business as well: "The songs we sang used to mean something/Now every other one's just mean." Prince often laments the state of the world and the state of the music business but he is not just some cranky old guy talking about the good old days--he still possesses the full range of his talents and when he brags about producing real music by real musicians that is not false bravado.
Labels: flow, Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, Mihály Csíkszentmihályi, Prince
posted by David Friedman @ 11:16 PM
