Kevin Durant NBA MVP
When being given the award, the NBA MVP usually, at best, sometimes,
gives partial credit to his teammates and his coach. I say “sometimes” because
it rarely happens. Normally, the MVP jerks the trophy from the hand of whoever
is presenting it, and accepts the award gladly on national television. And the
next-day’s newspaper shows him holding the trophy high over his head with his
teammates in a blurred background. And when the microphone is put by his mouth,
he snatches it and takes the opportunity to tell us (as if we are interested or
didn’t know) how he, as a kid, dreamed of being in the NBA and how hard he
worked to get here.
If you haven’t seen the video of Kevin Durant’s 2014 NBA MVP
acceptance speech, I warn you; it’s very emotional. And it was very unusual. True,
he did a little of what’s in the first paragraph. You almost have to since you
are MVP and people want to know you are proud of yourself. So, to appease the
audience, Durant mentioned how, when young, the only dream he had was to be a
Rec league coach, never imagining that one day he would stand on a stage
alongside his teammates to accept the NBA’s Most Valuable Player award.
But once that was said, Durant led us to a place we were not
expecting to go, one we have rarely visited, a place called, “Perspective.” This
grown man with apparent impeccable character, gave credit where credit was due,
calling his mother, “The “Real MVP.” He recalled his youth, dominated with
poverty and how his mom, somehow and often sacrificially, made ends meet. As he
continued, I reckon there was not a dry eye in America. The trip to the fridge for that second beer
was put on hold. Everyone was challenged to think, once again, about the fact,
nobody gets anywhere on their own and we all need to give credit where it
belongs.
But I have a question for Kevin Durant. You said, when you were young, the
only dream you had was to be a rec league coach and that you never thought you
would be on the big stage. I hope you didn’t mean, being an NBA player is more
important to society than being a youth coach. For I can tell you it’s not. I know because I have
done both.
You can have more impact as a coach than as a player. When I
played in the NBA, I met many young people. The influence I had on them was
that I was a hardworking player who was nice to people and not conceited. I
signed lots of autographs and made a host of personal appearances, free of
charge. But that was basically the extent of it. However, when I coached that 5th
grade boys basketball rec team, I had the opportunity to make a difference.
It was time to take Bryce out of the game; I had to play
every player the same minutes. Bryce pouted while sitting in my seat and, with stiffly-folded
arms, he refused to get out when the game resumed. I told him he was not going to play at all if
he didn’t move but he didn’t budge. I told my assistant to go tell his mother that
Bryce would be on the bench the remainder of the game. To my surprise, after
the game, Bryce and his mom came up to me. With streaming tears, Bryce
apologized. We hugged and I saw Bryce take a step toward maturity that day and
the rest of the season, he continued to do so.
Nobody can tell me, being an NBA player is more important
than being a rec league coach.
Swen
