23 May 2009

Legacy.



With his team trailing by two and :01 left on the clock of game two of the 2009 NBA Eastern Conference finals, Lebron James exits the time out with his nerves bunched into tight little knots you can almost see in his eyes. 

The 25,000 people who've paid a couple of days middle class salary to witness the moment unfiltered are stunned into an apprehensive silence. This is not Chicago, or Boston, or Los Angeles; those are cities forged and shaped into a persistent expectation that time is always on their side, and the coming miracle will arrive and twist fate to their favor. 

This is Cleveland, Ohio, USA; a world-class sports town known for an unconditional love of its professional teams. In the arena tonight sits a naive crowd; far more familiar with heart-breaking defeat than heart-stopping victory--and it shows.

Their team has done it again. "It" being blowing a huge lead to snatch apparent defeat from the jaws of certain victory. Now, their King must earn his prematurely awarded crown.

By now you have certainly seen the outcome. Number 23 plays possum at the free-throw line momentarily as the ball is handed to the inbound passer, then briefly feints toward the basket before breaking to 3-point territory at the top of the key as the ball is released in his direction. He throws a half-hearted right forearm shiver Hedo's way before catching the pass. 

The timekeeper pushes the button, reanimating time and restarting the countdown clock at ONE. 

The crowd catches its collective breath as Lebron spins, leaps, and releases the ball in a familiar and practiced motion, sending the sphere of rubber awkwardly toward the iron ring. 

The basketball catches on the inner far side of the metal cylinder at about the time the buzzer sounds, rattles around the rim, and drops through the net for a game-winning score.

The Cleveland crowd collectively exhales and erupts.  Mr. James spins on his heels and leaps into the arms of a teammate, and before the celebration can get a good head of steam, the pundits have already started their comparisons to His three-letter Highness, Air.

There is no minimizing this moment.  It is Hall-of-Fame worthy. This is the stuff from which legends are made. In time, Lebron James will earn his spot in the pantheon, and school-children will sing his praises and mark the milestones of their lives by his exploits.

But ... Jordan?

How quickly we forget. Let's rewind history for a moment for a quick recap of what made James and Deloris' offspring ... well, Michael Jordan.

Kobe, you might want to bring your trio of rings into the circle as well for this brief reminder:

The Jordan era begins in 1982, at the end of March Madness, when ... after Dean Smith led his Tarheel team past 62 OTHER teams, the college freshman Jordan dropped a game-winning buzzer-beater over Patrick Ewing.  

Now THAT'S how you create a lifelong rival! Rob the country's most heralded center of the first of what will be many, many opportunities to be a champion.

Lebron (and Kobe) entered the league with no rivals.  Nobody's out to avenge a college grudge, nobody has any deeply held bitterness. A win for Lebron is just a win; not the continuation of a decades long ass-whipping. Every year, Mr. Ewing had to not only face His Airness, he had to remember that this Jordan kid stole his college ring! You can pump yourself up to come back next year in the NBA, but where do you go mentally to recapture your Senior year at Georgetown?

Jordan finishes three years at North Carolina with great numbers, another accomplishment that counts in his legacy.  I have no knock on players that skip college for the pros. 

(C.R.E.A.M. "Get the money; dolla, dolla bills ya'll.")

But to compare skills between players is to look at ALL their accomplishments.  Without a NCAA ring in the trophy case, James starts off at a disadvantage against Jordan.

Air is drafted by the Chicago Bulls, who perennially sit somewhere between the middle and bottom of the NBA's Eastern Conference.  His first year in the league, they were below .500, made the playoffs, and got swept by the Bucks.

Kobe, there was also the spat during MJ's rookie season All-Star game that you can check-off on your "be like Mike" worksheet.  

All the vets (*cough* Isiaiah Thomas *cough*) were pissed that Jordan was getting so much hype, so they froze him out.  Sound familiar?

Anyway.  Season two was the broken foot, 38 - 52 record.  The Bulls make the playoffs again, and Jordan introduces himself to the casual fans by returning from the injury to drop 63 points against one of the top three NBA lineups in the history of the game; the 85 - 86 Boston Celtics. Everybody recounts that record-breaking performance.  Bulls lose the game. 

Nobody talks about the fact that the Bulls not only got beat, but the Leprechauns SWEPT them in that series. I've never asked Mike about this personally, but somehow I think he learned something important about teamwork that Sunday afternoon.

We're talking 20 year old history here, so my fellow old-heads will have to back me up as we recall what an fing juggernaut the East was back then.

During this era, an Eastern conference season meant you were playing against superstars in virtually every NBA city. Boston still had Bird/Parish/McHale, New York was NEW YORK, Philly still had Dr. J (though briefly) then Charles Barkley, Indiana had Reggie and the Dutchman, the Human Highlight reel was contorting himself to new replays every night in Atlanta, and you could buy t-shirts at any mall in America that said Detroit Pistons on the front, and BAD BOYS on the back. Cleveland wasn't a pushover, eventually Charlotte came to play, and Milwaukee sucked, but they could still make you earn a W.

Becoming "Air," meant developing a style that was flexible enough to take a pounding from Detroit one night, and out-hustling Boston the next.  This was no small feat. 

And that was just the East!

Travel west and you had to face Hakeem in Houston, the Admiral in San Antonio, a run-and-gun Portland, a competent Seattle, and the best pick-and-roll combo in the history of the game in Salt Lake City.  This was all just to earn the right to sell TICKETS to Showtime at the Forum; where the curtain raised every night on the most exciting brand of basketball ever offered at the professional, competitive level. 

Magic was likely on any given play to toss a patented, never-before-seen, no-look pass to James Worthy, who might drive to the hole ... OR ... dish to Michael Cooper who might drop one from two feet behind the 3-point line ... OR ... whiz a bullet pass up high to Kareem, who'd probably finish off a seven pass sequence with an undefendable sky hook from nine feet in the air.

No disrespect to the league OR Lebron, but the NBA just isn't that "kind" of good, or competitive anymore. 

Who, exactly is putting Lebron to the test these days?  The hapless Knicks?? Feisty Chicago? umm... the Wizards???  

Exactly.

As good as Jordan was, it took three tries to get past the Pistons.  That's how steep the competition was. 

Pundits: Lebron sweeps two teams in a row to get to the Conference Finals, and you want to compare him to WHO???  

Are you fing kidding me?

By 90 - 91, Jordan has literally transformed himself physically, just to prepare for the brutality of the inevitable series against Motown's Bad Boys. Every sports page in America had an article about the Jordan rules; a style of basketball specifically and unashamedly designed by Chuck Daly for his CHAMPIONSHIP team to beat one man.  Michael Jordan.

Where do I look in today's paper(s) for the Lebron rules? Just the other night, I heard Dwight Howard say "we just try to keep him out of the paint." 

Seriously?

That 90 - 91 season is the start of the first Bulls threepeat. 

Yeah, roll that around on your tongue a couple of times.  

First.  Threepeat.

Knocked off the Lakers, the Blazers, and the Suns. That's what the record books say.  But we who witnessed it, remember the all out WARS against the Knicks, and the Pacers, and the Cavaliers.

Oh yeah, and won an Olympic gold medal.

Then he retired to play baseball, which he kinda sucked at, but seemed to enjoy.

We're not even talking about the fashion impact, or celebrity status.  We're sticking to hoops here, but its worth noting that Lebron wears his shorts the way he does because MJ thought crotch-cutters looked stupid, and insisted on more manly attire.  And Air Jordan sneakers simply revolutionized high school footwear. 

I'm sure Lebron has a shoe contract, but I wouldn't know a Lebron basketball shoe if it walked up and put itself on my foot.  

I'm just sayin'

After RETIREMENT, Jordan came back to the game for his second threepeat.

Yeah, tongue roll time again.

SECOND. THREEPEAT.

Hit a triple double in the All-Star game, won 70 games, knocked off the Sonics, won 69 games, knocked off the Jazz, went to the absolute wall against Reggie Miller to get to the finals again ... immortalized the image of Bryon Russell as he knocked off the Jazz.  Again.

Six rings.  Two threepeats against the strongest, most competitive NBA to date. And just for giggles, let's consider the class of indisputable NBA Hall of Famers who cannot flash their championship rings at class reunions because of a little "Air,"

The late '80s Knickerbockers.  All of them; Ewing, Jackson, Starks, the whole gang of extremely talented ballers.

Drexler. Barkley. KJ. Thunder Dan Majerle. Wilkins ... both of 'em, although putting Gerald in this list is a bit of a compliment. Ehlo. Miller. Kemp. Stockton, Malone the Mailman who "almost" always delivered. Hornacek.

There are more, but this is a blog, not a book.

My beef is not with Lebron, but with those who would crown him the greatest prematurely.  By ALL accounts, young Cavalier #23 is among the premiere players in the league.  He is fun to watch, has an incredible sense of community and responsibility, and (with Kobe) is rising to the challenge of trying to put "air" back into the vacuum that is the modern NBA. He is incredibly talented, and will undoubtedly one day belong in the pantheon of basketball greats!

But legacy is not decided by talent alone.  It is not a purely statistical exercise.  The numbers count, but legacy is decided in direct competition against a field of worthy opponents. The league could improve, and Lebron may one day get to the level of "Air," but at the moment ... he is merely a talented, yet unproven superstar who had an amazing game-winning shot. 

Good Luck, Lebron.

Peace,
--Stew.

Photo:
 

21 May 2009

Tools



Suppose there was a huge brawl at the bar down the street from your house, and the President called in the Marines. I know, I know, that would never happen--but humor me for a moment. There's a larger point I'm aiming for. 

Let's say the Devil Dogs came in a couple of armor and infantry squads, killed a few of brawlers, and 'captured' more. Because they are now in the custody of the Corps, imagine with me that rather than turning these thugs over to the Police for lockup in your local jail, the Leathernecks followed 'their' regulations and tossed 'em in the brig. 

In addition to a tremendous legal mess, what you would have on your hands is an example of using the wrong tool for the job. 

You would have your very own Guantanamo -- a scenario which never should a been a military problem in the first place.

The military exists to represent our nation in war against other nations with whom we have disputes that cannot be resolved by diplomatic or economic means. It is not the most effective tool in America's arsenal for rounding up thugs--even really, really bad ones.

That's what law enforcement is for.

I was watching that Tuesday morning when a group of incredibly inventive thugs pulled off the crime of the century. With a death toll of thousands, these were criminals of the highest order. They belonged to one of the most aggressive international gangs of our lifetime.  

But they had the distinction of not belonging to another nation.  They were and are freelancers--not soldiers.

America loves a good war.  It brings us closer together, and helps us get rid of bad people.  It increases the level of patriotism, and energizes the economy.

That might be why we declare so many of them.  We've had wars on drugs, and poverty, the deficit, and now a war on terror. How have those turned out?

Declaring war on random things is ... wait, let me think of an appropriate word ... ok, got it. 

Stupid.

A war on terror or terrorism is a bad idea from the start.  It engages the wrong tool for a vapor mission. 

America has built the most powerful military in the history of the planet. We can show force at any spot on the globe in mere minutes when we set our mind to it.  And woe be to the focus of our fury. 

But even Spider Man realized that with great power comes great responsibility, and hopefully the lesson we'll walk away from this chapter of history will be to not declare "wars" so frivolously.

Responding to the horrific attacks of 9/11 was a job for crime-fighters, not warriors. Spending the same amount of money on INTERPOL, the FBI, the CIA, and small groups of Special Operations forces under their control would've avoided a lot of this mess.

Why?

Because without an actual country to fight, the military starts off at a horrible disadvantage. They're not equipped for nation-building. They're equipped for nation destroying--which is a very necessary function to have at your disposal.

The military operates under a completely different set of rules, regulations, and laws than the rest of us.  It is a code shared by all the militaries of the world.  At REAL war, you know exactly what to do with the guy pointing a gun at you, because he has on a uniform and when you capture him, there's a step-by-step guide specifying how he is to be treated.

You don't have to make up a name for him, or invent a status.  And you damn sure don't have to create a new prison or judicial system for him. 

There's another bonus.  You know when the job is finished.

Anybody got any idea when we should "end" the Global War on Terror?  Hell, anybody got any idea who the flesh and blood enemy is in the Global War on Terror?  The word "global" should give you a hint.

We have literally chosen to fight everybody who has a thought or idea that could be "terroristic." That should turn out well.

Can you imagine a Global War on Murder?

I mean, seriously.  Can you??

There are hundreds of people waking up in America right now with absolutely no idea that tomorrow they're going to kill someone.  There are a few hundred more who know exactly who they'd like to kill and how, but for one reason or another it won't happen.  Not tomorrow, not ever. There are literally thousands who'd like to kill someone but don't have the guts, or the means, or the opportunity.

How many dollars of your money are you willing to commit right now to go out and find all of those people? 

The GWOT is approaching $1,000,000,000 in cash expended.  That's the actual bullets and bombs and boats.  There are estimates that double and triple that amount in actual costs.

Good investment?  Perhaps so.  There HAVE been many lives saved.

But on the morning we declare the war finished, what will we have put in place to stop a terrorist from committing a heinous act that afternoon?

The answer is simple.  Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

An American life in combat is never wasted. Those brave men and women fight for the idea of America.  Not the flag, not the Constitution, not even the President ... the idea.  They kill and are killed to defend our National interests.

Seems like we owe it to them to be "interested" in putting the right tool to work on the right job.

Peace,

--Stew.

Photo: 

20 May 2009

1000 Words



As a writer, I am annoyed by the truth that a picture is 'worth a thousand words.' 

But I get it.

When Danish cartoonist Kurt Westergaard sat down to capture the essence of Western thought about the current wars between the West and "Islamic Fundamentalist Terrorism," he was following a tradition that has been a hallmark of Democracy for centuries. It is unlikely that he was actively trying to inflame ... well, anything.

But he created a visual image.  In retrospect, it is an image that apparently offended many Muslims.

It is only fair to point out that Islam does not specifically prohibit drawing pictures of the Prophet Muhammed ... peace be upon him. More broadly, the idea is that you shouldn't create images of ANY person or animal, unless you can animate them.  The whole "no photos or images" thing is a response to the possibility of idolatry in the same way that full-length burkas are a nod to modesty and a persuasive hurdle to unwelcome lust.

There's a certain logic to it, but to the non-Muslim it comes across as closed-minded and a bit overkill-ish.  But that's a discussion for another day.


Some 70,000 people rioted in Pakistan alone; embassies in Lebanon, Syria, and Iran were set on fire, and Hamas--apparently not wanting to disappoint,  issued death threats.

Here in the United States, we tend to reserve such responses for sports championships, civil right protests, and court decisions we disagree with.
  
But hey, to each his own.

The U.S. government is holding 44 unreleased photos that portend to show American mistreatment of captives from Iraq and Afghanistan. The left wing apparently demands their release under a long-standing philosophy of transparency. The right wing points out that releasing the snapshots is likely to rekindle flames of violence should they ever show up in the Muslim world.

Theses pictures are like naked pictures of your wife. Even though YOU might want to look at them, how do you minimize their impact on YOUR life once they hit the wider world?

The question to my esteemed assembly gathered here is:
"How do we properly position the American legal and cultural philosophy that it is wrong to shout FIRE in a crowded theater with the release of photos that we KNOW are likely to spark violence in nations where our friends and family are currently serving in combat capacities?"

I cannot count on my fingers and toes the number of people I love who are presently at war. 

I have biological relatives in Iraq, brothers in arms whose children's birthdays I celebrate in Afghanistan, and drinking buddies in both. After 11 years in the Air Force, I count hundreds of active-duty servicemen and women among my closest friends and associates. 

They serve in all four of the service branches, plus the Coast Guard. Last week, when the Air Force Master Sergeant list came out, I sent no fewer than 15 congratulatory e-mails, and made no fewer than 10 "maybe you won't celebrate Passover next year" telephone calls.

These are MY people.

And I don't want ANYBODY fucking with them. I want them ALL to retire whole; mentally and physically, from the often dangerous career they have chosen. I want them to leave the military on their own terms; and gracefully move into the next stages of their lives.

And yet, I oppose torture--in all its "enhanced interrogative technique-al" glory.

I'm one of those nerds who reads many of the documents that my government releases to the public (and by virtue of my vocation, many that remain classified) -- including the so-called torture memos. And as a veteran; trained, retrained, perhaps even overtrained in the Law of Armed Conflict--they sicken me.

Luckily--they are words.

I say luckily, because if they were photos, or Heaven forbid, VIDEO ... they would rekindle the flames that would put many of my friends at even more risk.

The conundrum exists because as an American, I value the release of information. I think it is the lifeblood of a healthy democracy.  I think transparency is good, and that if more Americans could see into the bowels of government, they would be ... at best, disappointed.

Having conceded that I believe American troops have committed war crimes in the ongoing conflict, I am torn between the greater good of putting every gory detail into the public domain, and releasing just enough to make the point.

I am unsettled by the thought of either option.

I've also struggled to see how this is a partisan issue. I see the conflict, or else I wouldn't write about this topic.  But how has it managed to break down into a GOP vs. Democratic or conservative vs. liberal question?

I return to my original thought.  I'm a writer. In this case, wouldn't 44,000 words just be ... better?

Peace,
--Stew.

11 May 2009

Defending 'Dubya'



Ethics.

Toss that word into a business circle, or the presence of medical personnel, and you are bound to find yourself challenged and intrigued by the scenarios and questions that pop up. It hearkens images of money, and tough calls, and occasionally life and death. It calls for the sort of fundamental thinking where reasonable people are truly separated by perspective and experience and opinion. Living exclusively in the gray, ethics challenge one to ask not just "what do I think," but "what would I DO?"

No cabal has dived deeper into its darkest depths than the military.

Military ethics provoke quests for responses to queries unthinkable in any context. They pose questions that have no answers; require conclusions no human can live with, and propose solutions that ripple not just through choices of life and death, but through the very essence of history.

A commander in combat faces the fact that war IS hell and s/he may find him or herself in the untenable position of choosing between wrong and wrong. And many are aware that sometimes the only answer is the bad one.

Which brings us ... to the Presidency. It is a job marked by pomp and circumstance, ruffles and flourishes. It promises no easy questions, and no unanimous answers. It christens one COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF and sits heavy on the shoulders of one mortal who is given infinite power, virtually unlimited resources, and stripped of all friendships. Its only tool is wisdom, and its only judge is legacy. There are counselors and policies, but their agendas are hidden in plain sight and history holds only one man accountable. And on many days he is left to singularly condone or condemn the lonely commander's bad answer.

Into this space walks a proud Texan. His most generous friends call him aloof and disinterested. Born on third base, he steals home and is rewarded with this--the most powerful position on the planet. He is not the first; there have been many oval office dwellers cursed by legacy, and thought in hindsight to be fools.

He is rapidly confronted by the most challenging confluence of hard questions to ever face a sitting President. It is a Rubik's cube of international law, war policy, economic theory, and public safety. It presents the new King-of-the-mountain with the most dastardly combinations of bad, illegal, and evil, set to the silent count of an hourglass racing toward empty, and a terrified nation demanding protection.

It is military ethics at its most naked and raw.

And without a looking glass into the future, He makes His call.

It is illegal, and evil.  It contradicts the very soul of the Constitution he has sworn to protect. But he has made his choice(s) and he believes.

He throws himself to the mercy of legacy and history--and the empathy of his successor...

...Who walks out of a brilliant campaign and face first into the resulting mess to confront his first Presidential ethics question: "Should I be the one to set the precedent for going after an ex-President."

At his disposal are the pardon, the ignore-ance button, the condemnation card, and a razor-sharp legal mind. He is a man of compromise, who values the the brilliance of the universally unsatisfactory solution. Like a commander in combat, this combat Commander-in-Chief discerns that the only answers are bad ones.  

Without a looking glass into the future, He makes his call.

The people howl, the pundits pontificate, and his allies scream for blood.

But He is--ethically at least--correct; tho perhaps not "right"

...in defending 'Dubya.'

Peace,

--Stew.

Photo Credit:

Stew's Number