The dark side of the Suns
ESPN's bombshell reporting on Robert Sarver paints a dark picture of a historically troublesome owner.
Basketball sometimes opens windows into a dark world. Today is one of those days. The following story is insane. The links are many, and exist largely to demonstrate that I'm not making this up — I'm referencing actual reporting from Baxter Holmes. We all just wish this were made up.
Let me offer a paraphrased summary of the bombshell story of Phoenix Suns lead governor, Robert Sarver, “The one thing I’ll admit to is this: I pantsed that one kid. I’m sorry about that. That was inappropriate.”
“Let me continue. I’m not a misogynist. I never talked about using large condoms or oral sex. When I passed around bikini pictures of my wife, it was just to show everyone how a new product may look. I’ve never, ever used the N-word in relation to black people. That word is not in my vocabulary. Except one time I did use it — but only once. The multiple people interviewed for the story published are all lying. I never suggested that we have strippers seduce other NBA players and get them pregnant, thereby luring valuable free agents to Phoenix so they can be near their children. I never tried to give the coaches advice or told players how to play or micromanaged the coaches or told them not to carry pens and that they had to stand and clap and cheer the team on.”
“I don’t really remember most of the conversations that were mentioned, except for the fact that I 100% didn’t do anything wrong or bad. I 100% remember that I didn’t do anything wrong or bad.”
“Except for when I pantsed that kid. I should not have pantsed that guy. Sorry [checks notes] David. That one’s purely on me. Sorry for pulling your pants down in public.”
Over 70 people were interviewed for the Baxter Holmes piece that dropped on ESPN today. The story is rather long and highlights an uncomfortable workplace teeming with distrust, unease and anxiety — at least for many individuals. More than anything, Holmes’ story describes a pervasive and normative level of inappropriate conduct from the top of the organization (Sarver) on down.
Power gradients in a hierarchy work in the following way — someone in authority has the ability to either function collaboratively or coercively. People have a vested interest in continuing to earn a living, making it comparatively difficult to speak truthfully if/when doing so may cost them their livelihood. Those in authority can actively solicit feedback and demonstrate actionable responsiveness to the feedback offered — or they can simply plow forward. Those in leadership can choose to carefully review their actions, policies, and language to make sure everyone is on the same page — or they can just say, “this is how we work here, either get in line, or get out.”
It seems abundantly clear, at least for the personnel interviewed, which side of the ledger the Suns fall on.
Taken in isolation, it’s hard to see which of the unseemly, inappropriate, or unprofessional incidents would act as the “smoking gun” that saw Donald Sterling forcibly removed from his majority-ownership stake of the LA Clippers. But taken as a whole, it’s hard not to come away feeling depressed and disgusted that such environments exist, and are in fact neither new nor unusual in the American workplace. You could look at the Sarver story and wonder, “how on earth could this have gone on so long?” But there are countless similar spaces all across this country — and in the world — in places both public and private, where this behavior goes unquestioned. It’s enough to trigger my latent levels of hopelessness and despair.
Multiple people in the story are reported to have signed non-disclosure agreements upon termination in exchange for cash and promise not to sue. Many others considered legal recourse but were simply too embarrassed or exhausted or poor to do so. One former employee reports still feeling nervous when his phone rings at night because it triggers memories of his volatile interactions with Sarver. Multiple people report regretting taking a job with the Suns and have actively advised others not to do so. A number of individuals sought therapy to process their toxic workplace. One woman reportedly considered suicide.
But David Bodzin, Corliss Williamson, and Earl Watson give me hope. Each of them allowed Baxter Holmes to use their names for this story. Earl Watson in particular stands out as a strong and bold voice. Recounting the tumultuous time in which his job as head coach was threatened (Watson was ultimately fired), Watson told Sarver, “You can do whatever you want. You own this team, but my culture is not for sale. And I'm not for sale.”
Most of us don’t have access to the halls of power or connections to the institutions by which we could actuate cultural change. Personally, I’m not confident I would be wise enough to implement just and fair systems even if I were in a position of such authority.
What each of us can do, is seek to cultivate the kind of inner-fortitude that Earl Watson expressed. When confronted with a situation where we can put our heads down and ignore an injustice, we can instead speak up. Instead of “going along to get along” we can advocate for the less fortunate.
More than anything, these stories make me pause and reflect on my own failings and shortcomings. No one else can correct my errant thoughts and warped behaviors. Stories like this remind me of the impact that my words and actions have on people within the range of my effective will each and every day. It is a harrowing and frightful thing to be a person shaping the lives of others around you.
To the best of my ability, I hope to choose carefully, not carelessly. To live reflexively, not reactively. To apologize when necessary and speak kindly to others. I want to find the good in the world and fight for it. I just want to be a good man.