Have you ever had an argument with someone you loved? Have you have ever cared about something so deeply, that you became frustrated with the outcome, and your emotions spilled out? Have you ever fought with your brother or your sister?
Of course you have, but presumably, ESPN’s Ramona Shelburne has not. Shelburne wrote an article earlier this week outlining a toxic relationship between Russell Westbrook and his Nuggets team, and painting Westbrook as a locker room cancer who threatens to pull apart the Nuggets and derail their championship dreams. This is a month after Shelburne published a piece wedging Russell in between head coach Michael Malone and GM Calvin Booth, a dispute that ultimately got them both fired.
Shelburne’s bombshell scoop this time? A possible argument between Aaron Gordon and Russell Westbrook. Stop the presses! You mean, words were exchanged?
Oh, the horror!
Everyone seems to have an opinion about Russell Westbrook, and despite his positive contributions to the Nuggets this season, many of these opinions have been negative.
Aaron Gordon has finally had enough.
On the heels of a heartbreaking game 5 loss in which the Nuggets blew a 4th quarter lead, Gordon used his media availability, not to discuss the game, but instead to set the record straight, and defend his teammate, Russell Westbrook.
No, there are no problems here, Gordon said. Russell is an incredible basketball player, and incredible teammate, and an even better person. Shelburne’s hearsay article was based on a quote from an anonymous source who was speculating as to what a post-game argument could have been about.
Hmmm, let me think, maybe they were riled up because they lost an important game and everyone was super pissed off? Just a hunch!
Aaron Gordon, the soul of the Nuggets, explained that they spend more time with their teammates than with their own family. Think about that. Think about all of the time on the court, in the meeting rooms, in the locker room, on the airplanes. We are lockstep. Communication is key. If you have something to say, then say it. Address it, get it out in the open, and we move on.
In the NFL’s Week 5 of last season, a home contest against the Raiders, the cameras caught rookie Bo Nix and head coach Sean Payton in a heated sideline discussion. Payton was unhappy with a decision that Nix made on the field, and when Nix came to the sideline, Payton let him know. And unlike a similar situation the previous year with Russell Wilson, in which Wilson cowered like a puppy dog, Nix pushed back, stood his ground, and the two had an aggressive exchange that became media fodder in the following week. The two men shrugged it off, chalked it up to the competitive juices of the moment, and the relationship grew tighter, providing the catalyst for a ten win season and the Broncos’ first playoff appearance in nearly a decade.
Ramona Shelburne, though, was likely not amused.
More than anything, this article is a product of a neutered corporate landscape in which people equate displays of emotion with dysfunction. ESPN’s litigation-phobic HR department plants seeds in its employees that follow them out into the sports world they cover, and in so doing, sets them up to look foolish. This incident—presumably just a tense conversation between Gordon and Westbrook—is, for a professional sports team pursuing a championship, a typical day at the office. Passion. Emotion. Conflict. Tension. Action.
Pro athletes are not quiet, smiling, gracious losers who calmly encourage one another with positivity and patience. Those folks aren’t in pro sports—they’re librarians. Sports attracts us because it stirs our passions—what do we think it does to those who play it? They’ve put their hearts and souls into this thing. Nothing matters more to them than winning.
In a locker room after a playoff loss, things damn well better be tense. It would be a problem if they weren’t. I’d be worried if I didn’t hear an argument. If I didn’t hear someone screaming “FUCK!” Someone throwing a gatorade bucket. Smashing a TV off the wall. When you care about something deeply, your emotion comes out—the same kind of emotion it takes to win a championship.
The absurdity of both the substance of the article and its timing, I believe, will have a catalytic effect on this team. In other words, you just made the Nuggets an even closer unit. You gave them a reason to come together. To circle the wagons. My family may argue with one another, but you won’t come in here and tell me that we don’t belong together. No matter how “immature” one of us may be acting, we’re still family. You can’t say that about my brother. You can’t pull us apart.
And in this, we become stronger.
Thanks, Ramona.
Nuggets in 7.