“It’s Like Being In a Zoo”: The NBA’s Ongoing War Against Racism
Why the players in the most progressive sports league in the world are still feeling discrimination, hate
RUSSELL WESTBROOK IS a man of routine. From pre-game meals to his iconic tip-off routine, everything Westbrook does on the court is a process, thoroughly executed with machine-like precision. But on this day, Westbrook was upset, and there was something wrong.
It was 2018, and his team, the Oklahoma City Thunder, were down 2–1 in their first-round series, with him, along with co-stars Paul George and Carmelo Anthony, proving to be disappointments.
In the previous game, a 115–102 loss, Ricky Rubio posted a triple-double, repeatedly torching Westbrook. After the game, Westbrook boldly declared that he would shut down Rubio’s efforts. He was motivated, looking to make a statement.
But while he was still in his warm-ups, dancing to a song reverberating throughout the arena, everything changed.
“Here we go boy!” exclaimed one Jazz fan.
In a matter of seconds, Westbrook underwent a dramatic shift, a metamorphosis of sorts. His mood shifted, now extremely angry at the fan, who repeatedly called him “boy.” And with context, “boy” is a degrading term towards African-Americans, an issue which is exacerbated because of the racist background of some members of the Utah community, and, by extension, some fans of the Utah Jazz.
While there is no tangible evidence that these comments, Rubio’s triple-double in the previous game, or some combination of both played a part in Westbrook’s poor play, Westbrook came out too motivated, seeking to make plays when it wasn’t necessary, and overexerting himself on defense. And, in a vacuum, it makes sense why.
Westbrook wanted to exact revenge on his opponent, and with perceived racism from the fans in the arena, one can see why Westbrook felt like it was him vs. the world.
But the result was another poor performance by the Thunder, Westbrook picking up 4 first-half fouls, and another Thunder loss.
The NBA has developed a reputation as being a progressive, values-driven organization, the NBA has still struggled with racism. The incident in Utah was one of many to follow, with racism being as prevalent of an issue as ever in the NBA.
The league seems to have an apparent duality; it is open to change for a wide range of issues in today’s society, yet it hasn’t found a solution to racism, an issue that has plagued African-Americans for centuries in this country, and the ethnic group that makes up the majority of its league.
LESS THAN 90 days into his tenure as NBA commissioner, Adam Silver was already in trouble, facing an existential crisis that was threatening the league and could cause uprisings and protests.
Earlier that week, then TMZ reporter Mike Walters released video recordings of Sterling and his mistress, V. Stiviano, having a conversation. In it, Sterling infamously “In your lousy f — — g Instagram, you don’t have to have yourself walking with black people,” Sterling said. “It bothers me a lot that you want to promote, broadcast that you’re associating with black people. Do you have to?”
Stiviano responded with the now notorious quote, “Do you know that you have a whole team that’s black, that plays for you?”
And Sterling, in an extremely revealing response, said “Do I know? I support them and give them food and clothes and cars and houses. Who gives it to them? Does someone else give it to them? Who makes the game? Do I make the game, or do they make the game?”
Needless to say, the entire NBA was shocked and disgusted. Some players on both the Clippers and Warriors, who were battling in a heated playoff series, were considering boycotting the upcoming game.
Activists communicated with some of the players, telling them to not play, that this issue was bigger than them, bigger than basketball.
But this was an unprecedented issue in the NBA. Never before had an owner been removed, especially not in under a week. There was no clause in the league’s constitution for Silver to remove Sterling from the league, no precedent in basketball history for Silver to follow.
The rest of the league — and America — waited too see what the Clippers and Warriors would do. Their actions, or inaction, could define the future of the league, and become one of the most notable moments of civil rights in the 21st century.
WE ARE ONE. This message of unity and togetherness was one that the league embraced during this time, with each team’s official website becoming a black screen blazoned with the aforementioned message.
But the NBA Playoffs were still in full swing, and the players needed to play. The Clippers, who had been torn about playing had to make a choice — they could boycott the game, fully condemning Sterling’s actions, but doing so would also take away their livelihood, the opportunity they had dedicated their lives to — and the choice they made will live on forever in basketball history.
Leaving the tunnel of Oracle Arena, the Clippers ran onto the court with their traditional red warm-ups, but these were flipped inside out, hiding their affiliation with the Clippers’ name and, more importantly, Donald Sterling.
Soon after the crisis began, Silver would hold a press conference, condemning Sterling and banning him from the league forever. This was a strong moment of justice in the NBA, an event that would set a precedent for future progressive actions by the league and Silver to come.
Yet, Sterling was not just an individual who held those beliefs. There were other prominent members of the NBA — including owners, and, perhaps more importantly, fans — that held similar beliefs to Sterling, whether it be Sterling’s plantation mentality or his outright, straightforward racism.
Gail Miller shifted around nervously, knowing not only was the entire capacity crowd in Vivint Smart Home Arena watching, but the entire NBA was watching, too. Taking the microphone, she addressed the crowd.
“This should never happen. We are not a racist community,” Miller said, to applause from the crowd. “We believe in treating people with courtesy and respect as human beings. From time to time, individual fans exhibit poor behavior and forget their manners and disrespect players on other teams.”
She was referring to an incident between Westbrook and another fan in Utah. In this occurrence, Westbrook, who was sitting on the bench, was supposedly told to “get down on my knees like you used to,” a racially charged statement that he took offense to.
Other Jazz players and staff added to the condemnation of the fan, who was later identified as Shane Keisel, including star guard Donovan Mitchell and general manager Dennis Lindsey.
But what change was made that night in Utah? After all, while the fan was banned for life, Westbrook was still fined by the league for his threat towards the fan. And this certainly wasn’t the first time Westbrook had an issue with his safety from fans; against Denver in 2018, he was shoved by a fan following a loss, and during this season, he stopped a young kid in Denver who put his hands on him. So if the league was progressive, then why would Westbrook be fined, and why weren’t there more measures in place to protect the players?
The glaring issue that the league had to address was whether or nor Westbrook’s altercation was an isolated incident, or just another, glaring example from a string of persistent occurrences of racism that is plaguing the league.
ALL IT TOOK was a shove. Kyle Lowry, the Raptors’ point guard, was complaining to referees, arguing that he was pushed by an individual. Watching Lowry throughout the playoffs, it is clear that he complains. A lot. But this incident was different. Lowry was complaining to the officials, and quickly, it became clear why.
It was Game 3 of the NBA Finals, and Lowry’s Raptors were looking to take a 2–1 lead. For most of the game, the Raptors had dominated, and entering the fourth quarter, they had vanquished most of the Warriors’ hope of a comeback victory.
But early in the fourth quarter, after diving for a loose ball, Lowry ended up falling into the first row, the courtside seats of Oracle Arena. While attempting to stand up, Lowry was shoved by a fan, who turned out to be Mark Stevens, one of the part-owners of the Warriors.
This was emblematic of the league’s current issue in many ways. As a rich millionaire, Stevens felt compelled to treat Lowry how he saw fit, with no regard for Lowry’s safety. In this scenario, Stevens not only represents himself, but the history of prejudice towards African Americans in the United States, a country where, for so long, wealthy, white Americans like Stevens felt free to treat others as inferior.
So once again, Stevens was punished by the league, receiving a ban from attending Warriors games, the very team he owns a stake in. Yet, the volatile situation between racist fans and players still felt incomplete, because at a moment’s notice, this situation could repeat itself.
And if the league doesn’t learn from these mistakes, then history will repeat itself, and the NBA will continue to struggle with racism.
The issue of racism in the NBA is extremely complicated, ironic even. It is ironic because while players are on the court, lacing up shoes engraved with the word “Equality,” or wearing warm-up shirts that protest police brutality, or taking team pictures in unity with another unjust loss of life in the African-American community, they take the court every night, knowing that there will be racist people, racist owners, and more.
This issue goes beyond banning fans from the league, or not fining players when they argue with a hateful fan. This is an issue in which the NBA will have to trace back to its roots, from originally coining the term “owner,” to letting white millionaires and billionaires treat their players as property, allowing them to rule with a plantation mentality.
As Kyle Korver, who, after reflecting on the unprovoked arrest of his former teammate, Thabo Sefolosha, and the incident between Westbrook and Keisel, wrote a brilliant piece title Privileged, said, “I believe that what’s happening to people of color in this country is wrong.”
He brought up the idea of accountability and responsibility, two ideas that are necessary to fight the entirety of racism — not just the outward, loud, brash racism of Sterling and Keisel.
As a league that is over 75% African American, change must be made. One of the issues is, as Korver explains, the fans in the arenas have a lot more in common with Korver than an African-American player. So the onus is on the league to no longer tolerate hate of any kind, whether loud or quiet.
The NBA has made some changes, enforcing its fan conduct policies more than ever, and taking away the work team “owner,” replacing it with the word governor.
But players are still feeling the effects of hate coming from the stands, night after night. According to Korver, players were “sick and tired” of experiencing this in their lives. Another Jazz player claimed that his parents were worried about his safety as an African-American in Salt Lake City. And, in a revealing quote, an anonymous player who was a teammate of Korver said the NBA felt “like being in a zoo,” provoking an image of fans treating players as if they weren’t human, as if they couldn’t understand or comprehend the hate given.
