Jonathan Papelbon choking Bryce Harper
In 1997, after a deep dispute with the coach of the Golden State Warriors, four-time NBA All-Star Latrell Sprewell lost it and choked coach P.J. Carlesimo during a closed door practice. Players quickly broke it up and Carlesimo wasn't injured, but it ruined Sprewell's career. To this day,
ESPN states it's what he's most known for.
Sprewell was suspended from the NBA for 82 games—which is an entire year. He lost over $6.2 million, was dropped from virtually every endorsement deal, and never played another game for the Golden State Warriors again. They voided over $30 million remaining on his contract, Converse dropped him, and virtually overnight the image of Latrell Sprewell became that of a thug who needed to be put in his place.
The racism wasn't even veiled. Tim Keown of the San Francisco Chronicle wrote:
"Just look at Sprewell. His appearance has gone full gangster this year, with his braids and wispy sideburns. He is a hard shadowy figure."
As a senior in high school at the time, I saw Sprewelll, who was actually a very soft-spoken dude and played college ball at Alabama, as trendy—not a gangster.
Race, though, colors how Americans see the world way more than most of us would ever admit. What happened between Sprewell and Carlesimo was a private conflict that had little to nothing to do with race. The fallout, though, had everything to do with Sprewell being a black man who local and national media flat-out called a gangster because of the way he looked. That included being black.
So, when Jonathan Papelbon, a 6-foot-4 inch, 230-pound (bigger than Sprewell, by the way) pitcher with arms as strong as they come put his hands around the throat of teammate Bryce Harper and began choking him on live television on Sunday, Sept. 27, the attack, like the one between Sprewell and Carlesimo, also had nothing to do with race or racism.
But don't be mistaken: The response to it has everything to do with race.
Papelbon wasn't even thrown out of the dugout. In fact, he went in to pitch later.
Hell, the next morning Boomer Esiason flat-out said he took Papelbon's side in the matter.
The audio is below.
Was Boomer Esiason being racist? Of course not. What he did do, though, is allow a white competitive athlete the grace to be physical, to be frustrated, and even be celebrated for such actions, when a black man who did the same thing had his entire life turned upside down.
Bryce Harper deserved to be choked as much P.J. Carlesimo—which is not at all. Yet, does anyone think Papelbon will be suspended for a season? His contract voided? His endorsements dropped? Labeled a thug?
Nah! Not going to happen.
This is the definition of white privilege.
Papelbon did to a teammate—who, by the way, may get MVP this year and is 10 years younger than Papelbon—what I've never seen done to another sports teammate on national television. White privilege is being allowed to express a full range of emotions, and being given full, nuanced consideration for why those emotions exist in the first place.
Jonathan Papelbon, in spite of a minor four-game suspension at the end of a season in which his team isn't making the playoffs, will come out of this looking like a fiery competitor.
Sprewell never got that shake.