One of the toughest balancing acts for myself in lieu of my NBA world is that of being an NBA Blogger that wants to remain as objective as possible, but also maintaining my passion as an NBA enthusiast.
It’s a tough line to straddle, while maintaining the organic nature of both sides; take writing about my team for instance, the Denver Nuggets, and something I do often is write – I assume in a level-headed way – about George Karl and the incessant #FireGeorgeKarl slam-wagon that’s been running afoot in Denver, Colorado for years, I’m pinned as “George Karl homer” when in fact, I’m stating obvious truths.
Then by the same token, when I chastise Ty Lawson – who has certainly came around in a phenomenal way since December – I’m pigeonholed as a “fake Nuggets fan” ….
I can never win. Literally.
That’s okay.
I’ve learned over the past year or so that there will always be individuals that question my motives; if it be writing for attention – this has been said to me – or if I’m just pulling the “cute nerd” card – I don’t even know what that means – when in fact, I love basketball so much, I just want to convey my thoughts.
If I’m labeled a homer, I’m labeled a homer.
If I’m labeled an opportunist, I’m labeled an opportunist.
If I’m labeled “a chick that doesn’t understand basketball”, then I’m labeled a chick that doesn’t understand basketball.
I’ve learned, while straddling the fandom and blogger line is quite the balancing act, I’ve also understood I won’t please everybody.
And I don’t want to.
After I watch a Denver Nuggets game, by nature, I want to hop onto Word Press and basically post an article like this:
NENENENENERRRRR. NUGGETS WINNNN!
Obviously, I don’t want to taint my stance on objectivity with a post that reeks “IRRATIONAL FAN” such as that.
I’ve worked tremendously hard at being this NBA fan, bleeding passion, but also quite articulate in the manner of the NBA.
Take a whiff of me and what would you smell?
You’d take in the aroma of fresh laid hardwood, faintness of tequila from an in-game drink, the saltness of bleeding blue-and-yellow, the sweetness from being in awe from an NBA facial, and light airiness from the incessant yelling during a game.
I’m an example of how it’s possible to love a team…a sport…a league exponentially, but at the same time, not being blinded by team devoutness.
Yes, I have players, coaches, teams, specific basketball possessions I’m sweet on; I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t honest about that. Let’s be clear, as much as journalists tell you they have no fan ties to the team(s) they cover or write about, they do – from my point of view – lean towards or away from the aforementioned.
It’s a human tendency to like or not like something; I’m not nor are a bulk of writers, that emotionless to not have a specific, detailed emotion – on either side of the spectrum – about [insert NBA subject].
Sometimes, it’s not as clear as I make it, but it’s there.
Sure, it’s difficult at times not to say “Fuck [insert NBA team/player] during a post because I’m still irritated that Matt Barnes was trying to fade Danilo Gallinari, but that’s why I often make this site an objective place for myself, or as objective as possible, without narrative.
I often get asked what I’m like at an NBA game and I usually answer it like this…
Think about the biggest super fan you know; they’re loud, obnoxious, they’re like a vivacious ball of endless energy.
That’s me at games. Minus the body paint.
Yeah, it’s kinda difficult straddling the NBA Blogger line with that of being a passionate NBA fan, but it’s an experience unlike any other. I’ve met incredible people – and some really douchey people – I’ve seen out-of-this-world basketball – and some pretty crappy basketball – and I’ve bonded with NBA fans – casual, die-hard, and knowledgeable - from across the country.
Yes, I’m very opinionated.
Yes, I come on a bit strong.
But really, that’s just passion for a sport that ruminates around me and sometimes I can’t contain.
Fellow NBA bloggers and fans, none of this would be possible without you.
It’s a balancing act I love to do.
Good one, I know where this subliminal stems from.