The recent Xavier and CJ Henry debacle has Cory thinking about the spirit of competition. Say what? Yeah, just follow him and hopefully he can make some sense of it all.
by cory hedgepeth
The competitive spirit is a spirit that has transcended societies past and present. It’s an extension of the human spirit, one that draws adoration of those that witness it. Its raw state of being. It can burn the human soul into the incomprehensible and sometimes dark infinitum of human suffering. When Wilt Chamberlain ceremonially had his college jersey retired at Allen Fieldhouse in 1998, he sat with what appeared to be an ambivalent countenance as Max Falkenstien read through an unprecedented list of Chamberlain’s University, Conference and National statitistics. Stats best described as unrivaled, gaudy at times, monumental, and never fleeting in terms of sports history. Chamberlain, a man among men, just moments from explaining his long absence from the starting point of one of the greatest sports careers of all-time, seemingly none-to-impressed by any of it. When he does rise from his bench chair, his gigantic torso is no match for his gigantic legacy, and the Kansas crowd erupts. And then he takes the microphone, and professes, “A little over 40 years ago, I lost what I thought was the toughest battle in sports, in losing to the North Carolina Tarheels by 1 point in a triple overtime. It was a devastating thing for me because I felt as though I let the University of Kansas down and my teammates down.”
In 1957, Chamberlain was named Most Outstanding player. But that one statement, that one passionate delivery in 1998, not only explained his long and mysterious absence from Lawrence, but epitomized his raw, unforgiving, and compulsive competitiveness. He was never able to let go of that loss. He wasn’t able to be bribed with some achievement accolade. 2 NBA Titles, a slaughter of NBA scoring records, a slew of NBA MVP Awards, all not good enough to dilute one loss in college.
The competitive spirit’s influence is contagious. 31 points, 18 rebounds, 5 steals, and 2 blocked shots are just numbers. But when they are attached to Danny Manning’s single-handed feat of bringing a National Title to a team with 11 regular season losses, they become the footsteps of a champion and cause us to all want to follow. If on Tuesday, April 5th, 1988, you hit the gym a bit harder, or you shot a few more free-throws at the gym, or you ran harder on a treadmill, or you had that feeling inside that propelled you to call your friends and get a pickup game going, then you were effected. It’s only human.
In 2004, the city of angels saw the ongoing dispute between Lakers teammates, Kobe Bryant and Shaquille Oneal come to a boil. The froth was Shaq leaving for Miami. The simmer was a Lakers team missing the NBA Playoffs for the first time in 10 years. Had the competitive nature of Bryant hindered the historic franchise? Or are we to take the good with the bad, in terms of competitive spirits? Bryant willed his way to the land of milk, honey and champagne just months ago. You can’t deny his tolerance for pain, mental anguish and turmoil in exchange for moments in time few ever pass through.
When I was in Miami for the McDonalds All American game last March, I met a vibrant young guard named Xavier Henry. I also met an austere young guard named Lance Stephenson. The comparisons between the two guards seemingly stopped at the position and physical stats. Stephenson offered little more than fodder to the media in regards to his recruitment, whereas Xavier presented himself as more forthcoming, articulate and genuinely amiable.
On Media day, Xavier found himself the center of a brooding controversy. John Calipari had walked and left behind a program, its current players, its fans and its recruits in his wake. Stephenson, New York’s highest scoring high school guard of all time, was relishing in the attention of college suitors (Kansas being the potential leader). Stephenson called a press conference and the McDonalds’ staff went to work informing all the media types. He remained mysteriously absent during the media lunch that preceded the anticipated event. Xavier attended the lunch and, without hesitation, walked into the media’s line of fire. If he felt the stress of having a recruitment hanging in the balance, if he felt betrayal from Calipari leaving without so much as a text message, if he felt claustrophobic from the microphones pushed into his personal space, he didn’t show it one bit. It would be tough for me today to find another high school athlete more ready for the NBA media than this guy. It was, by all standards, an absolute clinic. When Stephenson and his father took the microphone at the table, they said little to assuage the fans of any University, much less Kansas. From some standpoints, it seemed as though the press conference was called more for the sake of show, and less out of the sake of necessity.
Score one for Xavier. And a big one, at that.
When the teams worked out , Stephenson was clearly driven to be better than everyone else. He undoubtedly had an inner-arrogance about him that seemed to consistently shout, “you belong, you’re better than him, you deserve a press conference, you don’t need to eat lunch with these guys.”
It’s easy to paint Stephenson as the makings of another selfish athlete just waiting for his dues to happen. And some media figures did (not many ran to print with it, but it was discussed).
But it’s making a mistake.
If anything, my concern for Xavier’s career had been given rise. Sure, Xavier’s ability to handle the media makes Stephenson look like a chump, however, does being a nice guy make you a winner?
During the actual game, Stephenson and Henry matched up; often. Stephenson’s competitive nature was obvious, but some of his better plays seemed marred by the influence of his reputation. Every pass came with it the label of a forced pass intended to pacify critics, rather than the intelligent, selfless plays they were which produced results. His recruitment, which was perceived by many as his bait used to dangle in front of the entire basketball world as a way of amassing attention, had influenced his play on the court.
Xavier’s court presence was also an extension of his persona. But that presence showed that competitive nature, just in a different, less boisterous way. He seemed like a natural leader, an NBA ready court general. He was Tim Duncan’s court presence in an athletic, matured guard body. And he wanted to win. Badly.
When Carl Henry told the Kansas City Star that CJ Henry was better than Collins that was the Henry’s pedigree talking to you. It’s not always easy to swallow, but it’s always a necessary. It’s where winners come from. When rumors arose that Xavier and CJ weren’t sure about Kansas, it proved that with the good, comes the bad. Winners get lost in trying to win, even in their own, off the court, battles. Winners come from winning places (see father) and winners don’t always consider their surroundings (ever tried shooting a free throw in Salt Lake City’s Energy Solutions Arena when you are on the opposing team? It takes that type.)
I can’t predict the future, but I can tell you that Kansas is a winning program and Xavier Henry is a winner.
Sun Tzu once said “the general who wins a battle makes many calculations in his temple ere the battle is fought. The general who loses a battle makes but few calculations beforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few calculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It is by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to win or lose.”
Winning is a process and a lot of calculations. But it’s a process well worth the end result.
Love, Hate, Loathe, whatever….contact Cory at CoryHedgepeth@gmail.com.
