There is a haunting poem from Wilfred Owen, the
British World War I soldier, which powerfully encapsulates the horrors of the
trenches. And yet this is no patriotic
treatise, no exhortation to live for lord, land, or nation. In fact, Owen reserves perhaps the worst
judgment for the nation that sent him into battle, referring to “The old Lie;
Dulce et Decorum est/Pro patria mori.”
The last phrase, originally from an ode by the Latin poet Horace,
translates to “It is sweet and right to die for your country.”
Perhaps my ruminations are overly negative these
days, but Owen’s poem struck me this evening as I contemplated Paul George’s
most recent injury. For those who haven’t
seen it, you are truthfully better off. In
effect, his leg snaps. The worst aspect
of George’s injury? It came in a
scrimmage for Team USA, an exhibition game that meant nothing, and for which
George was not paid by his franchise, the Indiana Pacers.
Basketball in Indianapolis this season will be
noticeably underwhelming without their star player. The Pacers ownership, which has invested
oodles of money into George, must now operate without his services. Fans, while likely still supportive, will
endure a tougher season. You never know,
imagine that Indiana falls to the middle of the septic Eastern Conference
pack? A whole season, previously full of
promise after two consecutive Eastern Conference Finals berths, will now be
effectively shot.
This is not a new phenomenon. Hockey is rife with such occurrences. John Tavares lost the rest of the NHL season
after an injury in Sochi, and Eric Staal has required multiple surgeries after
an injury at the World Championships.
Both were suiting up for Team Canada.
These debilitating injuries raise the all-important
query: should professional leagues allow their athletes to compete for their
nations in international competition?
I can say with absolute certainty that were I a
Pacers fans today, I would wonder whether the risk of injury to Paul George was
really worth it. Especially when you
consider the overwhelming supremacy of Team USA in basketball. As a Pacers fan, I consider that my ticket
purchases go to the franchise, to make it better, to watch it grow, to will it
towards success. My money contributes
directly to revenues, which will allow the Pacers to invest in talent.
That investment, of course, being made by the
ownership. The people who buy each team,
use their millions to attract new front-office and on-court talent, all do so
in the hopes of attaining a championship.
If not a championship, than at the very least a large profit. A Team USA victory, however, brings ownership
nothing.
These arguments certainly resonate with me. While no one will ever accuse the majority of
sports owners to be saints, it is their money.
They bear all the risk of international competition, but receive none of
the benefits. Given their stake in
franchises, and by extension the league as a whole, it’s important to remember
that owners are the financial impetus for much of professional sports. Their views should be considered always,
because without them, we would not have the leagues we do.
The desire to consult owners has led many to suggest
league-wide bans on international competition.
The NBA already allows teams to prohibit their players from attending if
there are existing injury concerns. The
Spurs invoked this privilege when they told Manu Ginobili he couldn’t join the
Argentine team at the FIBA World Championships this fall. Some owners, such as Mark Cuban, and other
front-office folks, such as Islanders GM Garth Snow, propose extending such
provisions to a full ban. For them, it’s
not desirable to play “pro patria.” Each
commissioner has the ability to enact this type of ban.
One problem with this thinking, however, outweighs
all the other notions about money or fandom.
And that’s the thoughts or desires of players. One issue with sports teams that rarely takes
center stage is that players remain as indispensable as owners to any
team. Athletes should have the ability
to use their talents for any purpose unless explicitly prohibited in their
respective contracts. For instance, it’s
understandable why motorcycling remains such a frowned-upon practice. It’s risky behavior and, what’s worse, has
nothing to do with the game.
But those who endorse a ban on international
tournaments might also consider a ban on pick-up games, such as the annual
gathering at Rucker Park in Harlem. In
fact, why need it be an organized thing?
Why not any friendly game of one-on-one?
The principle seems to be that owners and franchises own the basketball
talents of any player.
Which is preposterous. We are not discussing mere “assets” here, but
individuals. If they choose to represent
their nation, they should have that option.
An injury such as Paul George’s is an aberration, an abnormality upon
which no one should base any NBA policy change.
While Adam Silver has a responsibility to protect the NBA, he should not
parley that authority into a dictatorial attitude over all basketball activities
of every NBA player.
I realize this post sounds rather shrill, as I am
imposing a somewhat malignant principle on those who support a ban. Just to be clear, I don’t think the position
is unfounded. The owners have an understandable
desire to protect their respective investments.
But in this case, the “investments” provide a bedrock for the
league. Their talent is the true reason
we as fans tune in. Sometimes injury
strikes, but that is no reason to restrict the ways in which players choose to
showcase their talents. Is it really so
bad to play for one’s nation? There
might be undesirable consequences sometimes, but nationality remains an intangible
quality, a shared heritage and culture that joins many together. It is worthwhile to represent these concepts
in sports, and while I understand the reticence of many, players should have
their “pro patria” option.
