Off-putting

By Ronald N. Guy Jr.

“The Lakers just traded Anthony Davis for Luka Doncic.” 

My son burst into our sports loft one night earlier this year and spoke those words.  I was skeptical.  My bull-stinky-stuff meter registered “likely”.  The boy, this dear offspring of mine, has an ability to deadpan some nugget of marginally believable news and make you buy it.  It’s annoying, but he’s good.  I feel no shame admitting he has fooled me several times, enough where I’ve debated continuing to provide food and shelter. 

I wasn’t taking the trickster’s bait this time.  Nice try, kiddo, but you went too big.  There is no way the Mavericks traded Luka to the Lakers.  Then defiant dad met the telling screen of his humored son’s cell phone.  The Mavericks had in fact shipped Doncic to the City of Angels.

The trade made no sense on paper.  The Mavericks received Davis, 32, an older, inferior player to Doncic on an expensive, multiyear contract.  The Lakers welcomed Doncic, a 26-year-old franchise anchor and one of the best ballers in the world.  There were other players, teams and draft assets involved, but none of consequence.  This was, for all intents and purposes, a dubious one-for-one that justified this gray-bearded dad’s doubt of his prankster offspring.  So, what was Dallas thinking?  Former Notre Dame head football coach Lou Holtz might have captured the Maverick’s mentality when he said, “Don’t tell people your problems: 80% don’t care and 20% are glad you have them.” 

Prior to the trade, I was aware of the book on Doncic: elite scorer, defensively challenged and a bit fussy.  Meh: That’s the story with most modern stars.  But a move from Dallas to Los Angeles, from the Mavs to the 17-time NBA champion Lakers, brings more than a jersey change: a much, much bigger stage awaits.  After being just an occasional video acquaintance for years, it felt like Laker Luka was screen-side every other night.  It offered a different view from the bleachers - more thorough, more nuanced, more complete.  The familiarity of full Luka exposure bred contempt.  My conclusion after just a few months: Watching this guy regularly for extended periods is intolerable. 

In arriving at this place of total judgment, I acknowledge that I am the old sports fan screaming from the porch with a snarl on my face, a can of beer grasped tightly in my hand and an ever-present ache in my back.  I don’t care; my conviction is unwavering.  Much like what a dying Capt. Miller (Tom Hanks) urged Private Ryan (Matt Damon) to do in “Saving Private Ryan”, Doncic has earned this.  Doncic is a great scorer and a challenged defender, but these words define him: whiney brat.  My beef with Doncic: He complains about every call.  Not some.  Not only during timeouts.  Every call.  Often while the game is still being played.  As if he is the center of the universe and the world should stop while he airs his grievances.  Doncic’s whining is in a class by itself, even in a league where officiating complaints are routine.  Doncic’s behavior, and sense of entitlement to everything, is so off-putting that it completely overshadows his game.  A two-year-old fit follows every time he possesses the ball and a defender makes the slightest contact.  If Amazon sold emotional intelligence, I’d ship him some.

Seeing Doncic flail, flip his arms in the air and fire verbal barbs at officials sends the mind on rewind, back to players like Art Monk, Cal Ripken and Barry Sanders – consummate professionals who carried themselves with class and dignity.  Did they get every call?  Did the game always go their way?  Of course not.  Juxtaposing how Doncic and these three greats handled adversity, unfairness or even the unjust, offers a teaching moment.  Is it about you?  What you want?  What you deserve?  In the moment and always?  Or is it about staying focused, overcoming resistance and propelling a group to victory?  Putting appearances aside, it’s unclear how Doncic would answer those questions as he obnoxiously announces his problems to all.  That said, one can begin to understand why Dallas made the deal.  Lou Holtz certainly would.