Gary Payton Once Told a Fan in Sacramento to Get on His Tractor and Go Home
Remembering the Sonics: A Love Letter, An Elegy (Part 1)
Or, at least, that’s what my dad tells me. I’ve tried to find evidence of this line — an old newspaper article, testimony on some blog — but can’t. Those’ 90s SuperSonics teams are half myth to me. I had barely turned 4 years-old when they made the ’96 Finals and lost to Jordan. I’m much more familiar with the back portion of Payton’s tenure in Seattle, the constant feuding with team owner Howard Schultz that eventually ended with Payton being traded to Milwaukee. And so, as with most myths, I have no choice but to trust my elders on this one. Gary Payton told a fan in Sacramento to get on his tractor and go home.
What I do know about those ’90s Sonics teams is that they were great: a .500 or better record every year of the decade, multiple 60-win seasons, and one of the most exciting duos to watch in the league in Payton and Shawn Kemp. The only thing they lacked was sustained playoff success, making it to the Conference Finals in only ’93 and that ’96 run to the Finals, becoming the first 1- seed to lose to an 8-seed in the NBA playoffs (and in the process leaving any who witnessed it with recurring nightmares of Dikembe Mutumbo rolling around on the Seattle Center Coliseum floor) during a ’94 season that may’ve been their best shot at a title with Michael Jordan recently retired. But with Payton and Kemp leading them, those ’90s Sonics had swag.
For a lot of people (and maybe even more so for folks outside of Seattle who became enamored with our team), Shawn Kemp is the easy favorite for this squad. Strong and athletic, Kemp was a walking highlight reel. I’d imagine most Sonics fans have a favorite Kemp dunk — whether it’s his dunk on Chris Gatling (after which Gatling had to give Kemp his respect and dap him up), his dunk in the ’96 Finals in which he ends up sitting on Dennis Rodman’s back after a spin move to the baseline, the infamous Lister Blister, or one of his many other hoop-shaking slams. Shawn Kemp was a show. But for me, and a lot of other Seattleites, Gary Payton was the man, and not just because of his game.
It’s easy to look at Payton’s career now, in hindsight, and hold him in high regard. A nine-time All-Defense First Team selection and still the only point guard to win Defensive Player of the Year to go along with his offensive game, Gary Payton is considered by many to be the most complete point guard in NBA history. But, despite being the #2 overall pick in 1990, it wasn’t until his third year in the league that he averaged double-digits scoring and not until his fifth year that he became a reliable 20 points per game scorer. He didn’t even make the NBA All-Defensive Team until ’94. But the one thing Payton has always had — the thing that makes him a favorite to many (myself included) and brings us back to that mythic day in Sacramento — is his trash talk.
Trash talk has long been a large part of basketball. As a kid, most pickup games I was involved in were as much calling your own number and diminishing the opposing player as it was the actual buckets made, crossovers, and blocked shots. It was equal parts bragging and trying to get into your opponent’s head, bait them into overcommitting on defense so you could slide past them or force them into making a sloppy turnover. As much as I try to shy away from the discussions of which player is mentally tougher that pundits drive into the ground, trash talk has often served as a way to figure out whose game deteriorates at the slightest offense or distraction. It was also just fun. As much as we wanted to get in the other player’s head, more often than not we just laughed it off, in part because we knew at any point the tide could turn and you could go from the receiving end to shutting somebody up. And while the NBA has seen its fair share of trash talkers from guys like Patrick Beverley, Draymond Green, Kevin Garnett, Larry Bird, and even Jordan, Payton is regarded by many as the best trash talker in league history.
As much as he’s known for his defense or as the face of those ’90s Sonics teams, Gary Payton is as well-known as one of the preeminent trash talkers to ever play the game. It’s hard to imagine a photo or video clip of Payton without thinking of him scowling, head titled or bobbing, mouthing off at someone. Perhaps the most famous image of Payton is of him mouthing off to Michael Jordan in the ’96 Finals. Gary Payton would trash talk you before the game, tell you what he was going to do and then go do it. He’d trash talk you while dribbling the ball up the court against you, while guarding you down on the other end. He’d jaw at you even if he or you were sitting on the bench. In an I-5 rivalry game against Portland in the post-Jordan era, he went at Scottie Pippen all game, shouting continuously at him “Where’s Mike?” In a game against the Nuggets, Payton’s trash talk led to Voshon Lenard committing three straight fouls on him, Payton taking time in between free throws to continue jawing and laughing. At one point he even told Jamie Feck “You won’t even be in the league next year.”
By all accounts, Payton didn’t have an off switch. He trash talked all game long — to opposing players and coaches and even at times his own teammates. He even wanted opposing players to trash talk him, as it fueled him. Jason Kidd (another player considered as most complete point guard in NBA history) once recalled Payton going on a 15–0 personal run after he’d blocked Payton’s shot and told him to “get that shit out of here.” When asked if he would rather guard John Stockton or Michael Jordan, Payton answered Jordan because Stockton never talked back and that was no fun. Not even teammates were safe, as Payton would go at his own guys in the locker room.
Part of this, by Payton’s own admission, comes from growing up in Oakland, where everyone wanted to be the biggest guy on the playground and trash talk became part of that. And maybe this is why so many of us in Seattle love Payton. Culturally, we’ve long taken our cues from California, especially the Bay Area. When hyphy hit the mainstream, we used to go dumb right there on the basketball court during pickup games, in between baskets. So, of course, Payton, with a West Coast swag most of us could recognize, would remain a fan favorite.
I fully believe he told a fan in Sacramento to go home on his tractor, don’t need anything other than my dad’s word to buy into the story. It feeds into the myth of the man: a hall of fame player known just as well for his trash talk as he was for his prowess on the court. He was the face of a great team — the face of an era in Seattle sports history — but more than that he was someone a lot of us in Seattle recognized and wanted to be in demeanor, maybe even more than in game.
In his post-Sonics career and post-basketball life, Payton remains one of Seattle’s most beloved sports figures. Me and my siblings cheered in 2006 when he finally got a championship with the Miami Heat. Perhaps most endearingly, he’s been one of the biggest figures in the Save Our Sonics and Bring Our Sonics Back movements since the team’s sale to Clay Bennett and subsequent move to Oklahoma City in 2008. In true form, he’s been the most vocal former Sonic, going on record to say he doesn’t want his “20” hanging in the rafters of Chesapeake Energy Arena — he never played a game in Oklahoma City; his memories are of Seattle. And this isn’t to disparage the fans in Oklahoma City. In the decade-plus since the Sonics left, I’ve slowly learned not to hold animosity towards people who had no power in that situation and just want what I do: an NBA team to represent them, stars who embody and put on for their city. Rather, it’s a reminder that this is exactly the role that Gary Payton plays for so many of us in Seattle. That defensively dominating, won’t shut his mouth guard is hella West Coast, is quintessential Seattle, is a reminder of how good we used to be, and how good we hope to have it again one day.
