Director Spike Lee's film "He Got Game" (1998) documents a college-bound basketball superstar's introduction to the national spotlight. While adjusting to his fame, 18-year-old Jesus Shuttlesworth (Ray Allen) finds himself in the midst of emotional battles brought about by his broken home and imprisoned father, Jake (Denzel Washington). The plot focuses on the emotional roller coaster that both men deal with as they attempt to find closure for past events. An immovable force that exists outside the maze of charged dialogue, basketball itself becomes the glue that holds the story together.
By the film's conclusion, Lee is able to convey an important message to the audience regarding the game: Even in the life of the man so revered for his basketball prowess, family and education still prevail beyond the sport itself, and remain the most important things in his life. Lee also makes it a point to satirize the heavy emphasis that American culture has placed on basketball and basketball players in general.
Lee pokes fun at media's aggrandized portrayals of star basketball players by naming his main character "Jesus." Clearly, that is a ridiculous name. But is it really that far off from superstar LeBron James' sobriquet "King James?" Perhaps not.
Furthermore, Lee hints that we sports fans tend to talk about and treat the best basketball players in the country as if they are our personal saviors. For most of us, that exaggerated perception has no real consequences. After all, it's a win-win situation: Those superstars make more money, while we also get to periodically enjoy the endless spectacles that are college and NBA games. Although there's presumably no harm done to any players involved in the constant exchange of cash for entertainment, there are victims who (ironically) suffer more as basketball become more lucrative.
These victims are the many black kids, particularly inner city youths, who grow up believing with conviction that the only way for them to succeed in life is to become the next Jesus Shuttlesworth, the next John Wall or the next Andrew Wiggins. Even their parents may buy into the prospect of their children getting rich quick by encouraging excellence only in this one sport, which kids are typically exposed to at an early age.
Which brings us to the question: When did basketball become such a black thing? It seems as if within the grand scheme of society or even just athletics, the basketball court has emerged as one of the few spaces in which blackness is the bona fide norm.
So maybe a black kid's obsession with stardom on the basketball court is just an example of his seeking to completely immerse himself in a practice that has long been imbedded in his black culture. From this perspective, fame and the money are just a bonus that comes with the decision to become a professional athlete in a game that serves as an artful portrayal of blackness.
But no, that just sounds like nonsense. Lee's right. At the end of the day, it's really just about the money.
Of course, there will always be, on an almost annual basis, a Jesus Shuttlesworth - the game won't be abandoned anytime soon. But for every one of those, there are thousands of shattered dreams that rarely manifest themselves in other productive ways. We're disturbingly far from the day when your average poor, black, middle-school kid playing basketball on the playground courts saw the game as just a leisure activity and not an investment of time toward a clownishly unrealistic career choice. They have other options. Or do they?
Nash Simpson is a senior majoring in English. He can be reached at Nash.Simpson@tufts.edu.
