Linsanity
With the New York Knicks and Toronto Raptors tied at 87, Jeremy Lin looked back at his coach, Mike D'Antoni, and asked for an isolation play. Time ticking down, Lin dribbled forward, sized up his defender, José Calderón, and confidently fired a three-pointer. Knicks win, 90-87.
On that night, Asian Heritage Night at Toronto's Air Canada Centre Feb. 14, Lin-mania hit its fever pitch. Lin, in just his first six starts, became one of sports' great success stories, and certainly one of the NBA's most inspiring accounts in recent memory.
Yet it is impossible to talk about Jeremy Lin without discussing race.
Really, race is the reason we're all so enthralled with Lin, whose parents are Taiwanese immigrants and his grandmother is Chinese.
In society's narrow-mindedness, we are quick to stereotype, placing people in their pre-ordained roles and ignoring their ventures into unfamiliar territory. When individuals of different backgrounds find success in unexpected ways, we should learn from it. Lin's story is a perfect example.
Lin was a standout but relatively ignored high school player in California. He didn't receive any college athletic scholarships, but he not only went on to have a terrific basketball career at Harvard, he graduated with a degree in economics. Still, no NBA team drafted him.
The Linderella story began, seemingly overnight. After brief stints with the Golden State Warriors and Houston Rockets last season, Lin became an instant sensation with the Knicks, who took a chance on the 6-foot-3, 200-pound guard. His success took nearly everyone by surprise, except for some players and coaches who acknowledged his work ethic and drive in practice and in the scarce minutes he played in-game.
Suddenly, all we were seeing on sports channels and highlight packages was this 23-year-old kid with jet black hair and high cheekbones leading the New York Knicks in one of the biggest sports markets in the country.
Lin was a breath of fresh air to the New York fanbase and NBA fans everywhere because of his unselfishness with the basketball, willingly finding open teammates while at the same time having no reservations attacking the basket.
A true point guard, Lin fits perfectly into D'Antoni's system, his smart playmaking abilities elevate him over the Knicks' other point guards—Iman Shumpert (athletic, but better at the 2), Toney Douglas (incompetent), Mike Bibby (ancient) and Baron Davis (still waiting for offers on his TV sitcom).
But some still managed to discriminate, detracting from Lin's basketball abilities and instead focusing on the race of the person with these abilities.
Lin's success has yielded more than its share of political incorrectness. During a recent ESPN broadcast of the Knicks, the camera cut to a sign in the crowd reading "The Yellow Mamba." One New York newspaper sported the headline "Amasian," after Lin's game-winning shot against the Raptors.
Platforms like Twitter are breeding grounds for buffoons like boxer Floyd Mayweather, who tweeted that "all the hype is because he's Asian," saying black players perform similarly on a nightly basis "and don't get the same praise."
Most recently, after the Knicks' loss to the New Orleans Hornets Feb. 18 (Lin's first loss as a starter), ESPN ran a headline on its mobile website that came under fire. The Knicks and Hornets game recap led with the headline "A Chink in the Armor," highlighting Lin's nine turnovers on the night, but not without including a racial slur.
ESPN went on to remove the headline shortly after and issued an apology. But for the 35 minutes it stayed online, it was a reminder that we still have things to learn.
Despite the fact Lin stands out because of his ethnicity, his accomplishments are impressive for a player of any skin color or ethnicity, never mind for an Asian-American. Lin dropped 136 points in his first five starts, most by an NBA player since the ABA merger in 1976-1977. Lin's six straight games with at least 20 points and seven assists also set a Knicks franchise record.
An evangelical Christian, Lin is a humble person always quick to divert credit to his teammates or coaching staff. Free from the egotistical, self-aggrandizement of many superstar athletes today, Lin's deferential attitude should only add to his appeal.
Lin's success should transcend all this; it should rise above the race angle and make us focus less on his appearance and ethnic background, and instead appreciate his stellar on-court accomplishments. He's moving our preconceptions forward, in line with thoughts more appropriate for the year 2012.
Lin is a gift, an underdog changing the antiquated view of the NBA as a "black" sport unappealing to the majority of white America. With any luck, Lin will sustain this level of basketball playing, and we won't care what he looks like anymore.
We'll still have the puns, though.