Straight No Chaser….. Dez Bryant needs a hug from Jim Brown

By Desi Cortez BASN staff writer
Updated: April 7, 2011

Dez Bryant

Dez Bryant

DENVER, CO.—Like a letter in a-bottle from a time gone bye, I send this e-plea out into deep cyberspace, hoping it reaches the eyes of true gladiators like Jim Brown, Gale Sayers, Bill Russell and Joe Morgan . . . gentlemen, you’ve got to help save the Dez Bryant, Vince Young and all the rest – these young men are desperately, yet silently crying out, in great need of being parented, fathered . . and is that a crime? Now, they don’t need to be taught so-much about the intricate details of their chosen sport, for that task these blue-chip ballers have been well prepared to compete, dominate – but rather it’s the game of life. Allow me to lay-it-on-the-table by simply crunching the numbers; Black babies, like Dez, born to unwed Black babies, born into a world pitted against all odds, facing the sky-high incarceration numbers, the Death Valley-low graduation numbers, the mountain-high unemployment numbers . . . the families these men are growing up in are severely lacking role-model men – that’s just the bottom-line. There’s a vast array of both reasons and excuses – nonetheless the truths the truth. Without debate too many Black sportsmen aren’t well prepared for . . . life. They need a good, decent man in their lives. Can’t you guys adopt a young, mislead, lead-a-stray Black man with more money and free-time then they know what to do with? It’s as if nobody spent 18 years prepping, training, enlightening these men for the journey called . . . life, for the fame, the ladies-of-the-nite, the stragglers, the hustlers and Ivy League con-men targeting their moo-lah. No one told these men about living-in-the-light, confronting the unsympathetic, non-empathetic quasi-hostile angry, envious sports press – vultures who hypocritically refused to document the coke-snorting, womanizing, gambling and drug abuse by guys like Marino, Montana, Kelly and Elway, just as they’ve reluctantly covered the fall of Brett Favre . . . however today the sports press is most times not a group of male-cheerleaders, instead they’re parked outside a strip-joint, with the local cops . . . huntin’ Niggers, trying to catch a Black player who’s had a tad too much firewater, who’s just finished blowing hot air up the 38-24-39 inch behind of some snow bunny who won’t give the cop nor reporter the time-of-day. . . .

Beyond the obvious lethal combo of arrogance and ignorance, today’s Black players seem oblivious to not just the lynchmob but to the grand responsibility which is asked of those to whom much is given, they seem blind to the ass-kissin’ demanded of colored athletes yesteryear, and the clear discrimination which is rampant in high school, collegiate and professional sport today.

They seem disconnected from the fact most of their peers are being steered by society not into college classrooms but prison courtyards . . . it’s as if Black sportsmen think America really likes them. And with that thought in-mind, young Mr. Bryant desires to, yearns to roll like hot-butter over hot-water corn bread thru a Dallas mall, representing the

gangsta/thug/pimp/hustler/playa image Mike Vick is trying to distance himself from . . . .

Tell me why?

Does Dez feel the need to demonstrate to his judgemental peers he’s keepin’ it really real by having the look, feel and flavor or a “real nigger” brandishing the official uniform of the lost; the crack of his ass hangin out, his designer plaid draws on display, and then angry and amplified when predictably challenged by White male authority? Dez needs to counsel with tribal elders. Sorry Dez, when you promise to carry yourself like an Tuskegee Airman, an Officer n’ Gentleman, then you conduct yourself like TI . . . . Can it be this is another generation completely ignorant of the Black American experience Pre-Tupac? Is it going to always be a choice between the silly-ass BET/HBO Court Jester or the angry Black barbarian? Are these cats constantly and consistently going to lower themselves to the Redneck’s pitiful, predictable piss-poor expectations? It’s Carter G Woodson and the backdoor, knowing your place It seems indisputable that today’s ebony gladiator dwells day-to-day in such an insulated world that they really believe America is content to witness, what they regard as – the demise of America’s National Past-times, altering the games America plays . . . dating top-shelf white bimbos historically reserved for White guys only. Gee, Dez thought everybody wanted him to date their daughter . . . I can only assume Dez, like so many young Black men has limited conceptions of what a Black man is – he believes he’s portraying himself to the world as a genuine authentic man, a Nigger – this “look,” it’s implied “symbolism” is so-important to young lost men like Dez that he’ll risk his career, his “brand,” the predictable ire and outrage of his parents . . .oops, he doesn’t have any parents, and that’s the god-damn problem. Tragically Dez had forgotten his “fans” can’t wait to “flip,” to tar n’ feather, imprison any Black man who fails to navigate the tight-rope society has them walk. And this is interesting; if anybody is deserving of empathy, sympathy, or even unwanted pity – its this kid, he grew up against all odds, in harms way. . . . instead the mainstream press wants him kicked-out of the league and put behind bars. There-in lies some of the problem. Dez, and his generation’s misconception of what a man is, what a Black man is. What certainly appears to be their widespread acceptance of the White man’s historically limited expectations of us as a people. It’s the whole Grant Hill/Duke Negro players thing, acting White, accepting/embracing that Black is angry, mean and mad. Either they’re like MJ/Tiger?Tim Duncan and have no opinions, or they’re like Michael Irvin’s ignorant dumb ass and they allow their name n’ fame to be pimped by Rednecks as long as they get paid. Or they carry themselves like buffoons, minstrels, i.e., TO, Moss or Ocho . . .racing horses, dancing around in top-hat n’ tails, white gloves and a cane . . . “I’s jus loves to en’da’dain my fans . . .!” “Da wub-me” da’ wub me, da’ wub me! God whatever happened to sportsmen with beliefs and convictions beyond the locker room? Arthur Ashe, where o’ where have you gone to? We’re much better then what this nation’s envious, bitter and contemptible base claims we’re capable of, but lately, a number of use seem content to living down to those gutter low expectations. Be it the centuries of Willie Lynch brain-washing, or the lack or home-training and love – The Black American Empire is crumbling under the weight . . . Dez Bryant, his life – is an horrific Kodak moment illustrating just that. I implore you gentlemen to attempt to enlighten him to what a man is, and what Black men have gone through to get him here, where he believes he’s gotten over the mountain top. I Today’s Afro-American gladiators drink from a well they did not help to dig, and they’ve no clue, whatsoever,of who did dig it, and under what adverse conditions it was it dug. The knowledge and information you aging alpha males have accumulated . . . if you can’t rub-elbows and break-bread with these obviously lost, adrift, mislead Young men and enlighten their path, light the road and lighten their loads . . . then surly they’re left to stumble-about, a bulls-eye stamped on their backs, with a smiling-faced lynch-mob just waiting to pounce . . . if noble men like yourselves can’t reach these full-grown blind-folded man-cubs it will continue to be Open Season on young Black males.