NBA and China: It all comes down to the bottom line
Basketball relations will never be the same between the United States and China. We’re in the early stages of a new era, founded in bitterness, distrust and suspended operations. It’s quite clear China has little patience for a controversial American opinion, and the consequences have placed the NBA in the awkward position of retreat.
The question now becomes, how much degradation is the NBA willing to take?
In the unsettling climate surrounding its exhibition games in China, the NBA announced on Friday it would cancel all media availability for the rest of a trip that ends Saturday. That likely has no connection to future developments. There are concerns about the NBA’s traveling party being detained in China if the tension escalates,
and it seems the whole idea right now is to get everyone back home.
That’s when we’ll find out how people balance conscience against their wallets.
Like Warriors coach Steve Kerr, the vast majority of the NBA community and the American populace in general, this column isn’t qualified to speak on China from a historical, political or cultural standpoint. But there’s a bottomline issue that everyone understands.
A recently signed fiveyear extension with Chinese television brings $1.5 billion into the NBA coffers, a veritable gold mine for each of the 30 teams and the league’s salary structure. The heavily NBAconnected Nike conglomerate makes a reported $1.7 billion in China. The Warriors’ Klay Thompson, one of many players with Chinese shoe contracts, signed a 10year extension with Anta Sports in 2017 that could be worth up to $80 million. Richly rewarding summertime trips to China are a staple for many superstars, including Thompson and Stephen Curry.
Now we find Tencent, the NBA’s Chinese broadcaster, suspending all coverage or streaming of the Houston Rockets, whose general manager, Daryl Morey, triggered this mess with a tweet in support of the protests in Hong Kong. Anta Sports has said it will suspend all contract renewal negotiations with the NBA, and Curry has expressed uncertainty about making the trip next summer.
Commissioner Adam Silver has made it clear there will be no sanctions for any NBA player or executive willing to speak out. Most will decline, preferring the comfort of full immersion in the coming season. But China’s reaction to Morey’s statement brought increasing awareness of the events in Hong Kong. It’s suddenly at the forefront of many human rights conversations. We’re likely to hear stronger reactions from Kerr and San Antonio coach Gregg Popovich, and if any other prominent figures chime in, a simmering brush fire might once again become an emergency.
It has been suggested in some quarters that the NBA boldly cut the cord with China, terminating all business deals as a way of maintaining its selfrespect. That would make for one hell of a film, wouldn’t it? Billions of dollars sacrificed in the name of principle! Chinese basketball fans in an uproar, but remain silent in fear of government reprisal!
But as we well know, real life ain’t the movies. Big business always comes back to money, and the NBA wouldn’t consider that level of sacrifice, not even for a second. This story will play out on lesser stages, largely overshadowed by the spectacle of the world’s highest level of basketball. The world is changing, though. You realize that when a single tweet changes everything.
Noticeable vacancy
In a news conference at the 2017 NBA Finals in Oakland, Silver said, “It frustrates me that there are no Chinese players in the NBA right now. There’s probably more basketball being played in China than anywhere else in the world.” Two Chinese players, Zhou Qi and Wang Zhelin, were selected in last year’s draft, and Yi Jianlian played for four teams over a fiveyear period after being a firstround draft pick by Milwaukee in 2007. But it’s a startling fact that Yao Ming, the 7foot6 center who became an eighttime AllStar with Houston, remains the only player of significant impact from the Chinese system. Jeremy Lin, who recently signed to play for China’s Beijing Ducks after a nineyear NBA career highlighted by his memorable “Linsanity” episode with the Knicks in 2012, is of Taiwanese descent but was born in Torrance (L.A. County) and grew up in Palo Alto . ... In the realm of baffling arrogance and stupidity, it’s hard to beat the Atlanta Braves and their fans, who come under constant criticism from the Native American community (and rightthinking people in general) for the insipid Tomahawk Chop unleashed at SunTrust Park games. Cardinals pitcher Ryan Helsley, a member of the Cherokee nation, made clear his disgust during the recent National League Division Series, calling it “disrespectful” and a “misrepresentation.” The Braves sprung into action with a statement before Game 5 in Atlanta, saying their response would include “not distributing foam tomahawks to each seat and not playing the accompanying music or using Choprelated graphics when Mr. Helsley is in the game.” Mercy. You could imagine the folks in the marketing department: “OK, you can put the Chop music back on. I don’t see any Native Americans out there.”
We now give the floor to John Branch, the erudite and wellrespected sportswriter of the New York Times. The 3Dot is somewhat ambivalent on the Warriors’ move from Oakland to San Francisco, weighing a sense of heartbreak against the ways of progress. The 52yearold Branch, who lives in Novato, is quite clear on the matter. “It is so California to come up with something cool and coveted, and at its peak try to lift it to something bigger and better, risking all that made it cool in the first place,” he wrote. “Will Apple, with origins in a suburban garage, ever be as loved as it was before it grew big enough to build a $5 billion headquarters that looks like a spaceship? Will the San Francisco skyline ever be as beautiful as it was before the Salesforce Tower rose like a middle finger to the city’s lowslung aesthetic? The Warriors did not need to leave the grit of Oakland for the gloss of San Francisco. They chose to do so. Like most franchise leaps to new homes, it is a move borne of vanity, dressed as necessity.” And what does Oakland gain? “It gets the good old days, the best of days and the sweet nostalgia unique to cities and arenas left behind. No one takes that away and it gets the satisfaction that it handed over something at its apex, something cool and substantial that San Francisco did not create, and probably never could have, and might not ever capture.”