GUEST COLUMN: Everyone Hates Blake

by Michael Hafford

A smart guy (Batman) once said that you either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain. Some, like Kevin Garnett, see their heroic toil continue for much of their careers, only to be branded villain once they become successful and their parlor trick of punking the Jose Calderons of the world shifts from amusing to irritating. Electrifying Clippers big man Blake Griffin has seen that cycle shortened to a two season study in contrasts reminiscent of the masks used in Greek theatre.

In his rookie year, Blake is branded a budding superstar before the start of the season and justifies his place at the table by unleashing a variety of monster throwdowns promising enough to elicit comparisons to early-day Reign Man. Observe, as he finishes a ¾-court lob! Applaud, as he spins around a standing Tracy McGrady! Fulminate, as he dunks over Mozgov!

His finishing and relentless work ethic, compounded by the futility of his enterprise, brought to mind a modern day Sisyphus. Except this Sisyphus was really awesome at dunking.  And if you muttered “Sisyphus” around him without enunciating well, he might clock you. To top it all off, he dunked over a car in a moment so comically iconic that it seemingly became a commercial the moment the ball passed through the hoop.

Entering his sophomore campaign accompanied by a self-assured series of (you guessed it) Kia commercials and the point guard wizardry of Chris Paul, Blake seemed ready to take his seat at the adult table, by force if necessary. But, as another really smart guy (Superman?) said: “between the motion, and the act, falls the shadow.” What happened? Why does everyone hate Blake?

It begins with his attempts to humiliate everyone in the league. Bottom line is the dude that puts his elbow in your throat on his way to shoving the ball through the basket is not going to be Mr. Popularity, no matter what, but his constant plaintive looks toward the referees, after nearly every play, don’t do wonders for his reputation either (note to Mr. Griffin: on your two most recent highlight humiliations of Pau Gasol, both of those plays could have easily been called a foul on you). Also, his game is by no means a finished product—for every highlight reel dunk, there is a blank expression as he fails to make a proper rotation, allowing an opposing guard to cruise in for an easy layup.

All of that is true, but could the torrent of Griffin criticism be unwarranted? In some ways, he recalls a young Shaq, or Rodman, in that his overwhelming physicality just rubs people the wrong way. Similar to how Shaq’s beastly presence on the inside prompted many a nasty remark and over-aggressive foul, Griffin elicits opponent and opposing fan anger. The other team, and its crowd, want to put him down so hard Griffin should think twice about flying chest-first into the teeth of the defense. And yet, he never does.

Maybe that’s what makes people so mad about him: he’s that punk you punch in the face in elementary school, only he keeps coming and coming and coming until you bow to his onslaught. There’s something lovable and infuriating about the big kid that tries too hard. He keeps knocking his opponents out of the way, and doesn’t seem to get why they’re mad at him afterwards.

Like the Incredible Hulk, he can’t help himself once he gets into his zone. And, while he exits the arena in a bespoke suit instead of tattered purple shorts, on a bus instead of hitchhiking down a lonely highway, the trail of destruction and ill feelings that he leaves in his wake is the same.

(Michael is the first member of the Got ‘Em Family.  I’m still looking for talented contributors who can help keep the site going strong.  Check Michael out on his personal tumblr)