King for a Day - My Open Letter to LeBron James

Dear LeBron,

Well, you have the spotlight tonight. ESPN is carving out an entire hour of programming for your announcement. You are going to tell us for whom you are signing your max contract. That should take less than 10 seconds. How do you plan to fill the other 59:50 of programming?

I’m so excited for you to make your announcement; because after it’s over, I don’t have to hear about it anymore. You’ve become a media coverage addicted diva like Bret Favre. The only difference between the two of you is that Favre has actually won something.

I know that you love the media attention, hearing from teams who are willing to back up a Brinks Truck to your house and the prospect of “stay in Cleveland sex” with Betty White. But really, do you deserve it?

To be fair, you have amassed an impressive résumé. You were the Rookie of the Year (as was Mitch Richmond, Mike Miller and Grant Hill), a two-time MVP (so was Karl Malone), an All Star Game MVP (like Tom Chambers), six-time All Star and you earned the Gold Medal in the 2008 Olympics and the 2007 FIBA World Championships.

But as the theme song for the “Facts of Life” says, you take the good, you take the bad.

You were the marquee player for the disappointing 2004 Olympic team (which lost by 19 points to Puerto Rico. PUERTO FREAKING RICO!) and the 2006 FIBA team, have made the NBA finals only once and completely disappeared during the playoffs in the last two years.

You have yet to win an NBA championship. You’re still young, but the great ones win early. Magic won one in his rookie year (without an injured Kareem). Larry won in his second year. Michael won the first of six championships in his seventh year. Kobe won in his fourth year. Next year is your eighth season.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

If you worked as hard in the post-season as you do in the off-season to get an hour long drone fest about your “greatness”, then you might have a championship ring…and maybe something to talk about for 60 minutes.  As a Pacer fan, I was told over and over that Reggie Miller couldn’t be considered one of the best players in the league, because he hadn’t won an NBA Championship. You may be the most celebrated player in the league, but it don’t mean a thing if you ain’t got a ring.   

The most likely places for you are back to Cleveland, Miami or New York. If I were to pick for you, I’d send you to the Knicks. Why not? You have a lot in common. It’s an overrated, underachieving franchise that hasn’t won a championship in your lifetime.

By the way, if ESPN at anytime plays “Should I Stay or Should I Go” by the Clash during the show tonight, I pray that the ghost of Joe Strummer finds his way to your house and smothers you in your sleep.

Good luck, and get off my TV and radio soon.

Ian Shane

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A Harbinger of Things to Come– The Guns of Brixton by the Clash

Riots just don’t happen overnight. They come about from mounting tensions, and all it needs is a small catalyst. Stateside, we could look at Watts and South Central LA. One of the big ones in England was the Brixton Riots in 1981.

About a quarter of the population of Brixton district is African/Caribbean. In the late 70s and early 80s, the unemployment rate in this part of London hovered around 13 percent (25 percent of ethnic minorities were unemployed). The crime rate skyrocketed, and the Police were trying to crack down…leading to hostilities between the Bobbies and the residents.

A young black man was stabbed in the streets around 5 in the afternoon one day in April, 1981. The police attempted to aid him. Whether the crowd was angry because they didn’t realize what was going on, or they thought that the police weren’t doing all that they could to save him is unclear. What resulted was the explosion of pent up anger and frustration. The growing crowded turned on the police, which prompted those on the scene to call for backup. By the time the smoke cleared (literally) 279 police officers and 45 civilians were injured, over 100 cars were burned, and 150 buildings had been damaged.

If there were only some sort of warning that this could have happened.

Well, if the Bobbies were familiar with The Clash, they might have known. In 1979, Bassist Paul Simonon (who grew up in Brixton) penned “The Guns of Brixton”; noting the growing discontent in his old stomping ground. The reggae beat and bass line sets up the lyrics foretelling a violent interaction.

When they kick out your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun    

Now replace “Brixton” with “Arizona”. What? You don’t think that it can’t happen?

I’m not going to turn this into a debate about the political situation in the Copper State. No matter which side you’re on in this debate, you must admit that there is a potential of a Brixton style riot. All Arizona needs is an incident.

While this song has been covered by bands such as Arcade Fire, Die Toten Hosen and the Dropkick Murphys, the best cover of this song comes from an eight year old kid. Maria Gallagher, daughter of Clash studio musician Mick Gallagher, was recorded singing the song. That bit of audio was affixed at the end of “Broadway” on the Clash double album Sandinista! There’s something about a small child singing:

You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh-the guns of Brixton

Precious.
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