Julius Erving on Being a Role Model
"I projected in my story about always having the carrot out in front of
me, that tomorrow is going to be the best day of my life, and hopefully I
can make a difference tomorrow that I haven't been able to make today."--Julius Erving
In December 2013,
Tavis Smiley spoke with Julius Erving about Erving's
autobiography Dr. J. The wide-ranging conversation reflected Erving's typical depth of thought and abiding grace. Erving explained to Smiley how some mentors pointed him in the right direction at key moments, enabling him to in turn set a great example as a role model after he became an internationally famous athlete.
Here is that exchange, taken directly from the official interview transcript:
Tavis: So I’m watching you, and the one thing I
noticed about you, even as a child, was your humility on the court.
There is so much--speaking of football, there’s a lot of this in
football, and even a lot of it in basketball, but people, athletes, will
do something spectacular on the court or on the field, and it’s almost
hard to resist doing a dance (laughter) or getting in somebody’s face.
With
all the moves that you ever did, you would go to the hole, jump this
way, jump this way, turn this way, flip back this way, left hand, right
hand, back to the left hand, behind the backboard, put it in.
Whatever
it is that you did, you would do it and just run right back down the
court. I’ve never one time seen you get in somebody’s face, with all the gift and talent you had. So tell me about that humility. That’s more
than just a word, it seems.
Erving: Yeah, the
influences on your life, if I’ve been an influence on your life, then
there might be a moment in which you get into a situation and you might
say, “What would Julius do” or “What would Julius think,” “What would
Mom think,” “What would Dad think.”
I had really good influences
in my mom, first and foremost. The guy I was talking about from last
night, Don Ryan, who was my first coach. The big three over in high
school, Ray Wilson, Earl Mosley, Chuck Mcawane (sp), they always said,
“Look, win without boasting and lose without crying.”
If you play
sports, you’re going to lose sometimes, and I have cried, but I didn’t
have control over the tears. But I’ve always had control over boasting,
always, because boasting is something that emotions don’t make you do
that.
You program your brain to do it, and sometimes when I see
it, I crack up, because guys are just following other guys, saying,
well, I’m going to make my dance funkier than his dance. (Laughter)
Or
whatever, and I’m like, “Really?” So I don’t get too mad at it because I
got kids and I got grandkids, and they’re part of that generation that
celebrates the moment.
I had some coaches, like “We’re not
celebrating unless we win the game.” The game is certainly not over in
the first quarter, second quarter, third quarter, or through the fourth
quarter. It’s not over till it’s over, and if it’s over and we win, we
get on our bus and we can celebrate. But prior to that, I don’t want to
see it.
Doing things the right way has always been of paramount importance to Erving. Erving's Philadelphia 76ers posted the best regular season record in the NBA from 1976-83 but he never scored more than 45 points in a single game for the 76ers; when his team had the game well in hand, Erving went to the bench instead of artificially inflating his individual statistics: Erving
told me that it is "crass" for a player to pad his numbers if the outcome of the game has been decided. When I was a kid, I wished that Erving would play until the last minute and put up 50 points or more but upon further reflection I have gained appreciation for his approach; people who understand basketball know how great Erving was no matter how many 50 point games Erving rang up and the opinions of people who don't understand basketball just don't matter: greatness encompasses so much more than just compiling certain statistics or impressing particular influential commentators. When the Virginia Squires and New York Nets needed a young Erving to post dominant statistics, Erving did just that and when the 76ers asked Erving to blend into a team concept he sacrificed personal glory for group success--and when Coach Billy Cunningham realized that it was a mistake to ask the best player to tone his game down too much, Erving proved that his late 1970s critics had no idea what they were talking about!
Labels: Julius Erving, New York Nets, Philadelphia 76ers, Tavis Smiley, Virginia Squires
posted by David Friedman @ 7:06 PM
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
