SAVED FROM SHAQTIN’ By Arthur George-Special to BASN JaVale McGee is reclaiming...
Straight No Chaser: Thinking Out Loud
Since the Chief Executive Officer of these United States , President Obama is curtailing the nonsense of “Voodoo Economics” and capping the salary of Wall Street aristocrats, it only makes sense we do the same in the sports world.
A man can wish can’t he?
How would America’s National Pastimes change if no owner’s compensation could eclipse half-a-million bucks? We’d get the Trump type plantation owners out, and the hard working small business man in.
What if all the millions paid to one owner, or a small group of elite investors – those millions instead go to the public school system of the city the team claims to represent.
Or maybe to pay the outrageous medical insurance premiums the health industry is bending Americans over to maintain . . . .
That’s right, cap owners, cap the coaches and players accordingly, half a million . . . we’ll find out awfully quick who really loves the pigskin . . . Sure, there some details that need to be worked out, but go with me on this.
Not to mention, if there were no multi-millions awaiting kids at the end of the high school, how many of them would switch their idol worship from Peyton Manning or TO, to prize winning brain surgeons or some dude who builds bridges. What if he remains in school to become a butcher, a baker or a computer chip maker?
We’d be better as a nation.
God knows if the millions of young Black boys across this country would just consider, entertain the thought of something beyond football or basketball, Black America would benefit in uncountable ways.
We’d be better as a people.
If professional gladiators, confronted with the harsh reality – the money won’t last more than a decade after you end your playing days, you’ll have to plan for the future . . .
If the top cat was pulling in half a mill, then most guys are making under a quarter mill, a number of players are making just above / just below six figures . . . then a formal education would be valued again.
A real job would be required.
This would erase the lavish Lord Font-Roy lifestyle these slightly educated Neanderthals live. We’d stop dangling the titanium carrot in the face of jackasses.
I know, I know . . . I know, filtering thru this mine field of the mindless crap called life, that’s the job of parents, but far too many of today’s kids . . . don’t have that check and balance system at home. Most of the time, the kid has absorbed the “all that glitters is platinum” mind set from home . . . .
This is a needed realignment, one this country is screaming out for; there’s no way CEO’s should make 800 times more money then the lady who’s bustin’ her ass from can’t see, to can’t see, everyday, pounding out widgets for 23 years, to have her bread-winner gig exported to India, so the investor class can make mo’ money.
There’s no way a guy, who can run really fast, catch a ball or jump high – ought to make 800 times more then nurses, firemen, scientist or teachers, it just isn’t right. It defies logic.
The fanatical fan, who is the market – underwrites the icon ass-kissing because our parents sat us down in front of televisions . . . not books. And it shows.
This upside down world directly reflects our all that glitters . . . is good.
We don’t run this country like a organized spelling bee contest, we run it instead like a beauty contest, a popularity contest, the criteria for whose rewarded; athletes, singers, dancers, jesters who make us laugh.
Flip it, whose given tokens; first responders, folks who are entrusted with our prized possessions, our children, to educate them, to keep them healthy and safe.
Now, don’t take me as a anti-sports geek, I love sports, that’s why I pound out my thoughts here at BASN, I just don’t think success in sports or entertainment should be the highest level, the epitome of what can be achieved in this cluster-muck we dare to call . . . civilization.
Society shouldn’t find itself, at the end of the day, heaping adulation upon, adoring, idolizing, admiring, glorifying, respecting and greatly financially compensating gladiators, while ignoring a pre-school teacher, who spends 12 hours a day with your child, you know, that piece of moldable clay, which looks just like your mother, preparing them, providing them with the vital tools needed for . . . life; communication skills, reasoning abilities, sparking and feeding their curiosity, keeping them fat and happy, warm and safe.
Can I be any more clearer then that?
It’s like looking thru George W’s., head from his left ear to the right, clear, straight shot, no obstructions; I’m not trying to tighten the bridle on capitalism, but what type of a society would encourage and condone this twisted priority system?
We need a 3 a.m. “wake -your-ass-up” call.
Tellin’ jokes, singing songs, doing a little dance, writing love novels, acting on the big screen – those are beautiful talents which should be appreciated and valued, but we’ve gone too far.
It’s time to dim the lights on Wall Street, Broadway and in all the coliseums across the land. God know’s we’ve got enough young Black kids who want to be Lord Lebron or Little Wayne, we need dudes who know how to build dams and skyscrapers, put hearts back in brothers shot . . . by brothers.