The Space to Be Ourselves: Thoughts on DeMarcus Cousins
Often, in discussing the merits of a basketball player I feel to be unfairly scrutinized, I will find myself saying with an air of resignation lightly breezing through my words, âYeah, but he plays his ass off.â I like that phrase; it has an orbicular absurdity to it that tickles me.
Pleasure in the language aside, I watch a lot of basketball and, like everyone else Iâm sure, come to various conclusions about the respective levels of effort of the athletes I watch. But why in the age of SportVU player tracking and comprehensive plus/minus statistics do I care if a player plays hard? And, perhaps even more disturbingly, why do I feel like the phrase, âHe plays his ass off,â should be some sort of magical argument-ender?
For one thing, I get frustrated when people make statements of any kind whatsoever pertaining to personalities of celebrities, basketball players certainly included. It is my opinion that when you opine about what a celebrity is âlike in real life,â you sound like an idiot and you are really just talking about yourself. I realize Iâm not turning over any new soil here, but whatever; itâs a thing that frustrates me.
I was arguing with a friend the other day about whether the Celtics should, hypothetically, be willing to surrender all kinds of potentially valuable assets in order to acquire DeMarcus Cousins (we will hereafter refer to him by his proper nickname: Boogie) from the Sacramento Kings. My friend saidâand Iâm paraphrasing a little here, but not that muchâthat we (note: I have been referring to the Celtics as âweâ for as long as I can remember, so leave me alone) shouldnât give up too much for Boogie because even though heâs very talented, we donât need any âdivasâ on our team. The implication is that thereâs something inherently selfish, self-serving, self-aggrandizing, etc. about Boogie.
Besides the fact that I canât imagine using the word âdivaâ to describe anyone, even âa woman of outstanding talent in the world of opera,â I think I see the issue fundamentally differently. Basically, I think that nobody I know personally, myself and my friend included, knows the first thing about what Boogie is actually like. On the basketball court, sure, heâs whiny, and he flies off the handle, and he gets out of control sometimes, and in moments of frustration sometimes he kind of mindlessly seems to zone out for a minute. I get what my friend is saying. If you listen to the media narrative around Boogie (which, letâs just say here and now that Iâm not blaming Boogie for anything given the context of that total shitshow of an organization heâs playing for in Sacramento), you could get the idea that Boogie is a player who is supremely talented, but just not worth the headache.
On the other hand, you could consider these absolute facts:
Boogie is one of the five most talented players in the league.
Boogie is on a contract that has him incredibly underpaid for the next two seasons after this one.
Boogie is capable of a balletic kind of footwork on both ends of the floor Iâm not sure I have ever seen in a player of his size and strength. Heâs like Charles Barkley, but half a foot taller.
Boogie has improved his game at an alarming rate so far in his relatively young career, evolving into a first-class defender and a dangerous outside shooter while continuing to be a great all-around offensive player and a freaking lunatic rebounder on both ends.
You could also consider this thing that is not a fact:
I feel like he gives a shit.
I mean, I donât know. I see all the same stuff you see. He gives up on plays. He gets visibly frustrated and has terrible body language. I get it. But I also watched him singlehandedly eviscerate a really good Toronto Raptors team on Sunday night, and I came away feeling like the dude is an unbelievable force for good where basketball is concerned. Boogie makes mistakes, but he gives a shit. You can feel the effort jumping off your television screen. His physicality explodes through the medium. You can feel bodies bouncing off of him. You can feel the way he warps the game itself. You can feelâand this is probably the most important partâthe way his incredible skill makes the game much easier for his teammates, the way it allows his teammates (who, sadly, are not very good) the space to be themselves.
This is ostensibly an essay about Boogie, but itâs also about checking the limits of what you can know. You have to try not to be poisoned by words. The narratives are confusing and unfounded. We all have these feelings, and then we try to explain them and they just come out wrong. That wrongness starts to poison us. It turns our thoughts into other thoughts. They are less pure, and we canât quite grasp them, and the distortion just keeps getting worse. Still, there is a basketball game happening, and you can watch it. You can try to just focus on the action and see how you feel. Watch the Kings tonight against the Hawks in Atlanta. Turn off the sound on the TV, and listen to some Ryuichi Sakamoto or something. You wonât be able to take your eyes off Boogie. He plays his ass off, and itâs awesome.
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