You Can’t Handle The Truth

By Eric Graham, BASN Staff Writer
Updated: March 16, 2011

North Carolina, (BASN)–This is a letter to the next generation of high school basketball players hoping to get a scholarship from a Division I school.

Money talks and bull**** walks.

College basketball is a business.

Point blank.

Let’s be truthful.

Your ball handlings skills pay my bills.

It pays for my luxury home. It pays for my daughter’s college tuition

.

It pays for my wife’s fancy car and my mistress’s fur coat.

And for my son’s cocaine habit…

See, despite what you have been told…Nobody cares if you are 6-foot tall and can dunk a basketball.

Nobody cares whether you graduate.

Nobody cares about your major, your minor or your lousy G.P.A

.

Why? Because we gave you a scholarship to play ball, nothing else.

Learning is secondary; but Winning is primary.

Why? Because this is your job. This is not a game.

And the brutal bottom-line is…. you win or you get fired. You win or you get benched. You win or you go somewhere else. You either win or get replaced by the next group of eager recruits coming the following year.

It’s a cold capitalistic reality.

This is a human assembly line. And we can manufacture another You, next year.

A taller model, a slick version, a better dribbler, a sharper shooter and a higher jumper.

Yes, this is a system of exploitation. And you will be exploited. The system is based off of the Willie Lynch letter; you were too stupid to read. It has just been updated and modified to meet the modern-day times.

Matter of fact, you are nothing special.

You are no different from the next guy standing next to you because once you “blow-out” your knee; I’ll be giving your jersey to someone else. I know it is cruel but you better get used to it.

Because we make the rules, change the rules, and modify them to benefit us and only us.

Why? Because…We make the money, we make the merchandise, we sign the lucrative contracts, and you just better pray your sweet Black ass ….. that you are good enough to get drafted in the NBA in the first round.

Why? Because this is how things work around here. And if you don’t like it, you can go back to the street corner in the hood and play pick-up games in the park with your homeboys.

Listen, do you hear those fans cheering and screaming your name.

You can’t get that type of adulation anywhere else in the world.

But those same cheers can turn to boos within a minute and disappear in a second with a bad pass, a missed shot, or a stupid decision.

If you want it, you can have it. If not, give the pen to next kid and let him sign his name on the dotted line.

And hurry up…because my baby needs a pair of shoes.