Perk's Sad Work

Perk's Sad Work

He ends most tweets with the phrase “carry on”. He debates co-hosts and delivers his “points” with the same energy and tenacity that he used to catch rebounds. I’m talking about Kendrick Perkins. He regularly makes bold proclamations about the NBA on ESPN shows. But this week, he may’ve gone too far in his remarks about his former teammate, Milwaukee Bucks big man, Serge Ibaka.

Serge took exception, and unleashed a series of tweets detailing Perkins’ climb to media fame after a mostly forgettable NBA career. I won’t say too much more about the locker room details that weren’t disclosed, but it was sad to see Kendrick imply that Congolese-born Serge has lied about his age. This is an age-old insult often levied against immigrants when natives ignorantly believe they had to claim to be older or younger to succeed in a new setting.

I struggle to say all of this because for a long time, I really liked Kendrick Perkins. He was a valuable role player on a team I watched closely and rooted for. He was a project center, drafted out of high school solely on potential from an era where lumbering bigs had a place in the NBA. A player of his limited skill set would struggle to survive in today’s NBA. I can’t help but think that disconnect has at least partially clouded his judgement of today’s game.

Perhaps the most sad part for me is that Kendrick’s story is actually inspiring. He was drafted straight out of high school back in 2003. It wasn’t until his third season that he began earning consistent starts and minutes for a forgettable Celtics team. He became a notable member of Boston’s championship squad in 2008 as a rim protector and post defender next to Kevin Garnett.

A guy like that, who went preps to pros, went from bench warmer to starter to champion, played alongside multiple all-stars, returned from ACL surgery, got traded, and still survived nearly 15 seasons in the league should probably have more wisdom to impart on ESPN’s shows. Instead, he personifies my issue with the majority of commercial sports media. He could be the analyst that breaks the game down and makes the complexities of the sports easier for novice fans to understand. 

He doesn’t do that. He’s effectively a fan on TV. Each player, coach, and team’s success is a matter of narrative. In the mold of Stephen A, Skip, or Shannon Sharpe, Perk makes definitive statements about whose team it is, whether or not a guy is clutch, or which player is the best (right now). It’s the low hanging fruit of sports content, mostly because it’s box score driven. Anyone can have an opinion based on who won last night’s game or scored 30+ points. It's elementary. I’ve been disappointed because Perk isn’t one of the guys I mentioned above. He actually played in the NBA and could speak to X’s and O’s in a way few others on the network can.

I understand that this method of sports talk is profitable, it has earned guys like Stephen A, Skip, and Colin Cowherd salaries that are on par with professional athletes. I just thought that there was a fine line between lifelong athletes and media members, and that when the former becomes the latter, they’d do it with savvy and integrity that honors both the game and the viewer. Perkins shouldn’t be on twitter beefing with current players (see last season with Draymond), he should be the analyst they applaud and want to speak to. Not only is Perk out of line and out of touch for this latest stunt, he’s also out of bounds.

Way Back: Blue Funk (1993)

Way Back: Blue Funk (1993)

Way Back: Uptown Anthem (1992)

Way Back: Uptown Anthem (1992)