I witnessed something I had never seen before on Saturday at the Nike Hoops Summit game in Portland.
In my two-year career as a sports journalist, I’ve had the privilege of covering the World Athletic Championships in my college town. I’ve traveled to Atlanta, Las Vegas, San Diego and now Portland to cover nationally publicized sporting events and athletes.
Never have I ever seen anyone or anything covered like Bronny James is.
When I say this you have to realize that for the most part, James doesn’t create his own narrative. Athletes rarely do. Unless, of course, you’re Bronny’s dad, LeBron James. Sure, Bronny has some say in waiting to announce his recruiting decision. But he didn’t ask to be LeBron’s son. He didn’t ask to grow up being followed by bodyguards, or having his every move scrutinized by the media.
I even watched a 10-second TikTok the other day questioning why he did a dance move before shooting a warm-up three. I’m sure we’ve all seen something along these lines.
It’s these things that make me question the narrative itself. Any journalist chronicling Bronny needs to really stop and think before they hit submit or publish. It’s important to realize no kid has ever been in the position he is, dealing with what he has to deal with.
I’m not saying that as a negative; and clearly not saying that I’ve experienced anything like it myself. My basketball career peaked at a Jewish high school and the Oregon Rec. But it’s just a fact.
The moment I knew I’d never seen another athlete covered like him was when he did ask for something, or maybe it was at the request of his public relations team. I’m not so sure at this point.
Sitting in the press conference room following USA’s 90-84 win over the World Select, the moderator said Bronny would hold a 45-second media scrum in the corner before three of his Team USA teammates would come out and speak to the reporters in a normal press conference fashion.
Right there, you can see he is treated differently than his teammates.
And trust me, I’ve been scared to ask questions in a media scrum. Oregon football doesn’t exactly create a welcoming environment. This was different. There was almost no point in pitching in.
He seems like a humble kid. USA’s Jackson Shelstad, Jared McCain and Ron Holland all confirmed so. Bronny talked about what he garnered from the Nike Hoops Summit week and his approach to defense. It was interesting stuff. Did it warrant an individual, 45-second scrum, where 40-plus reporters and photographers gathered in a surrounding semi-circle, scared to broach any non-softball questions?
Definitely not.
But again, this isn’t normal.
On Friday, he told the Daily Emerald’sLily Crane that he didn’t know if he was allowed to talk to her following a scrimmage with some of the most lax media availability I’ve experienced.
For context, she was curious what he thought of fellow Sierra Canyon student and Team USA Women’s star Juju Watkins.
Bronny’s an 18-year-old kid unsure if he’s “allowed” to talk to another human. I implore you to read that again.
Before I finish up, I want to revisit the part about athletes and their narratives. It’s a thought that constantly stays in the back of my mind and breaches the forefront with experiences like these.
There are so many athletes, like Bronny, who aren’t polarizing people — they’re down to earth; they love to compete; they have a life away from the court, or field, or stadium — yet their stories make them seem like they’re so polarizing.
It’s a good and bad thing. It’s healthy that we as a society care about sports and its characters and competitions, to the point where we argue with one another over it constantly. But to the point where we tear down those competitors who make it so entertaining?
That’s another story.
A wise professor once told me this comes down to whose voices have the power; always think about who really tells the story and why they choose to shape in a certain way, rather than being so quick to insult the athlete.
Covering Bronny made me think about that piece of advice a lot.
