Brian Hoyer: “I’ve gotten us to this point”
December 2, 2014Has Kyrie Irving finally taken that next step?
December 2, 2014Sports Illustrated’s Sportsman of the Year is an annual must-read. Sadly, that the national recognition rarely has anything to do with the teams or individuals whom we cover. In turn, WFNY will soon announce its choice for 2014’s Cleveland Sportsman of the Year. Here’s one of the nominations for that honor by an WFNY writer.
I’ve played a lot of basketball in my day. I don’t mean to brag, believe me. There are locker rooms full of people who have played more than me. There are gyms bursting with folks better than me. There are countless men and women who play basketball much, much better than I do.
And that’s fine. I’m just saying I love the game. It is important to me, for it has played a significant role in my life.
|
When I dumbly wandered through adolescence, wholly unprepared for the nerves and girls and acne and horrors that awaited, I was fortunate. I found my outlet. I found that thing into which I invested a large portion of my identity. I found that which served as my metaphor for the world. I found my sanctuary, the place I could always go to no matter how scary or weird or awkward things got, and I found it early.
Everyone needs that outlet, that thing, that refuge—that safe place you can go to when life doesn’t make sense, and especially when you’re young. If you’re lucky, it’s something that teaches you, or something you love, or something that will open doors. If you’re really lucky, it’s all of that. For me, that thing was basketball.
I was fortunate to have good coaches, men who taught me the values that I hold tight to this day. I learned that defense is a collaborative effort. I learned about passing on a good shot to give your teammate a great one. I learned how fun it could be to dive on the floor, to take a charge, to sacrifice yourself for the good of the team. I learned that there is no act more selfish than not getting back on defense.
I learned that playing hard is the only way, because things are more fun when you try.
When I think about all of the Cavaliers who have passed through my life, I think of some more than others. I think of Andre Miller, who led the league in assists with Lamond Murray as the team’s leading scorer. I think of Zydrunas Ilgauskas, who played longer than he had any right to with such wretched feet. I think of Delonte West, who for a time was the most perfect combo guard there was.
But there is one Cavalier who has forever earned a place in my heart above all others. There is one Cavalier who embodies everything that I love about the game, and much of what I love about life. There is one Cavalier who I would recommend that your child look up to. That Cavalier is my Sportsman of the Year: Anderson Varejao.
♦♦♦
I played a game of basketball recently. I’m on a team in a league. Our team is not good. I mean, maybe we’re good, but we’re not good compared to the teams that we play against, and I think that’s how you tell how good a team is. We have talent, but we also have to ask Siri where the nearest oxygen bar is midway through the first half.
So we played this game, and we started well. We jumped out to an 18-5 lead. We defended like Jack Russell Terriers—not big, not intimidating, but feisty. We moved the ball and hit open threes. For a few minutes there, we were world beaters.
Soon, the fatigue monster bit us in the haunches. To say we became defensive turnstiles would underrate how tough it is to get through a turnstile. That Jack Russell in us was put down. I believe our foes went on a little 38-7 run, which ended only for the mercy of the halftime buzzer.
We lost, which is fine. You lose games sometimes. Infinitely worse is that we gave up. We stopped playing hard. We shot bad threes like we were getting a bulk discount. We valued the ball as much as Donald Trump values nickels. Runs up and down the floor turned to jogs, then walks, and then aw, screw it.
I’m embarrassed to write all of that. There’s no point in doing anything if you’re going to be blasé about it, unless you’re auditioning to play a Frenchman.
♦♦♦
I understand that not every basketball player will play hard every minute of every game. I understand that not everyone is built that way. I understand that playing in four towns in five nights must be miserable. I understand how being down 30 can inspire existential crisis.
It’s really quite absurd to expect a human being to go all-out all the time. I mean, I don’t. Do you?
But Andy comes close. He’s relentless. He’s the one on the floor when everyone else is pointing for a jump ball. He’s the guy making a 90-foot rim run because there’s a 10 percent chance it’ll work.
Anderson Varejao is my Sportsman of the Year because he doesn’t quit.
♦♦♦
No one would have blamed Varejao if he did quit. His body has politely told him that it doesn’t want to play basketball. He picks up bruises like an apple falling off a truck. He’s had one season end with a torn tendon in his foot and another with a fractured wrist.
The scariest injury came in 2013. Varejao was having his finest season, averaging 14 and 14, and he was on his way to his first All-Star game. But in December against the Toronto Raptors, Andy suffered a leg injury. Here’s a snippet from the recap:
Varejao landed awkwardly on his right leg and crumpled to the floor in pain after being fouled late in the first quarter. He limped to the locker room, but returned with 9:04 remaining in the second quarter. The Cavaliers announced he had a bruised knee.
Seconds after returning to the game, Varejao was knocked hard to the floor by Johnson and appeared to land on his tailbone. Johnson was assessed with a flagrant one foul and Varejao stayed in the game.
Varejao stayed in the game. Of course he did. He finished with 22 points and 10 rebounds in 39 minutes.
Andy and the Cavs learned that his injury was graver than they thought. The bruised knee turned out to be a torn quadriceps. After surgery to patch up that ailment, Andy had trouble sleeping. He felt back and chest pain. This wasn’t the usual damage.
It turned out that Varejao had developed a blood clot in his lung, a life-threatening condition. He underwent blood clot surgery and was on blood-thinning medication for months.
“I was having my best season, the best time of my life, and a week later I’m in the hospital and I could be dead,” Varejao said in an interview with Yahoo’s Marc J. Spears. “It’s crazy. I’m very lucky.”
He opened the next season as a starter.
♦♦♦
The smiles don’t hurt, either. Andy smiles in his team picture and in interviews. He smiles in goofy selfies that he posts on Twitter. He smiles when he’s growing his Movember ‘stache. He is, as far as I can tell, a genuinely polite, friendly human being, and that is never a bad thing to be.
I admit that this is all very syrupy, and that’s the point. Anderson Varejao really means something to me.
I imagine you find such athletes—those who truly matter to you—less and less as you age. I imagine that each year you grow a little more cynical, the players more entitled, the coaches more arrogant, the television production more garish. I imagine that it’s impossible to maintain a child’s enthusiasm for sports all your life.
Anderson Varejao is my Sportsman of the Year because he makes me hope that’s all wrong. He makes me hope that the love of the game never leaves you.
2 Comments
I’m admittedly biased because of my mutual love of Andy, but great article, Will.
What a great article, and I could not agree more with you.
Andy ever needs a home, my wife and I will gladly take him in and adopt him.
Will, I used to tell people that the best way to judge a man’s character is to watch him play basketball.
Is he single minded, is he unselfish, does he go all-out, all the time, does he persist when the team is getting beaten, badly, does he see the whole floor, does he think quickly and logically, will he risk injury for the good of the team, does he come through in high-pressure situations, does he cover up for teammates weaknesses without asking for credit or complaining about it?
It’s been thirty years since I played a game, and I thank God I quit when I did.
Too many relatives and friends played too long, and I’m not too mobile myself despite getting out in my mid 30’s without too many major injuries (in basketball, anyway. (football= different story; work = another tale.)
However, I still remember plays I made and didn’t, guys I stopped and couldn’t, shots I made and almost made, and teammates and opponents.
Andy is my all-time favorite Cavalier and makes my Cleveland all-time six, Lou Groza, Jim Brown, Rocky Colavito, Herb Score, Grady Sizemore, and, now, Anderson Varejao.
Before too long if I live long enough, I may be adding Kyrie Irving, and maybe even that free agent from the Heat who has returned along with Joe Haden and Joe Thomas.