Mental Reprogramming

By Ronald N. Guy Jr.

The offensive display delivered on every expectation.  The performance included casual moves in the paint, deft passing, other-worldly ball handling, impossibly long Eurosteps that seeming covered the ground from the three-point line to the basket, and long-range shooting (including three-pointers on three consecutive possessions) that are typically reserved for players of much shorter stature.  The brilliance prompted only a few measured smiles and head nods that indicated little more than, “Yup, as advertised.”  As a multi-decade, insatiable sports fan, the guilt from my muted response was detectable; this moment deserved more. 

While the performance was very much “on-brand”, there was nothing matter-of-fact about it.  It should have stirred emotions and generated one of those “My gosh, I’ve never seen this before” childhood reactions that age makes increasingly harder to spark.  No, the offensive effort didn’t do that, the consequence of high expectations.  But fear not, the game did deliver such a response, surprisingly when the night’s main attraction was playing defense.

Last week my favorite son (there’s at least a chance that’s not because he’s my only son) and I attended the San Antonio Spurs and Washington Wizards game.  I wish I could say we went because of the home team, but for the vast majority of my life, attending Bullets/Wizards games has been more about the star power of the opponent than love for the star-power lacking ‘Zards.  This night was no different: Our weeknight trip to D.C. was all about seeing Victor Wembanyama, the 7’3” Spurs phenom.

Wembanyama’s offensive game should have left me in awe.  The vertical giant, with an incredible eight-foot wingspan, seemed to be in all places at once.  He dribbled the ball into the front court and distributed like a point guard, he drained threes like an off-guard sniper, he scored in the paint, he covered ground on the court and got shots off at angles previously beyond human capabilities.

Which was great.  But it was his impact on the defensive end that made the unexpected impression.  He was everywhere.  You could sense the internal conflict with Wizards players.  As they attempted passes on the perimeter or drove the lane, the confusion was apparent.  These are moves and situations they had done/been in thousands of times and their minds knew exactly what to do: an extra dribble here, pull up for a jumper there, make a dish to a cutting teammate here, finish at the rim there.  But a virus had infiltrated their operating systems and was wreaking havoc.  The virus was Wembanyama’s size and athleticism.  He cut down passing lanes and threatened shots like no one the Wizards had experienced.  They were tentative.  They lacked answers for this strange new reality.  They were glitching.  Hoops lifers.  Professional basketball players.  The best of the best.  Befuddled by something they had never seen.

Filing out of Capital One Arena, the image of those Wizards players looking so uncomfortable on a basketball court, a place that could actually be more comfortable for them than their own homes, was racing through my mind.  There are Wembanyama’s in real life – disruptors, reality re-setters, brain scramblers, routine destroyers.  They arrive in many forms.  Perhaps it’s a lateral professional move: same job but with entirely new team of people.  A family that moves to a new house and city: same people, completely different place.  A dear friend who drifts away from a long-held shared interest or set of ideals: commonality lost.  The first dinner with a sibling and his post-divorce significant other.  All things familiar – and strange.

The confused faces of Wizards players encountering Wembanyama last week were a metaphor for the strange hands that life, the grand experience of sharing this planet with eight billion other humans, often deals.  There are few constants.  Everything is susceptible to being recoded, generating distinct life before/life after moments.  Acknowledgement and adaptability are key, with patience and time being the best catalysts for significant paradigm shifts requiring a mental reprogramming.  It's impossible to know yet if Wembanyama will produce a lasting inflection point on the court, but for now, he’s at least a reminder of the inevitable disruption off of it.