John Riordan: Giannis' inspired answer on 'failure' a big win
Giannis Antetokounmpo of the Milwaukee Bucks sits on the bench after losing Game 5 of the Eastern Conference First Round Playoffs against the Miami Heat. Picture: Stacy Revere/Getty Images
One of the best two or three players in the NBA was feeling as low as he could possibly feel. So of course he had to field a question about failure.
Milwaukee Bucks superstar Giannis Antetokounmpo had just left his home court late Wednesday night, out of the playoffs as a felled top seed and as a heretofore favourite for the title. The 2021 champions were denied passage to the second round by an aggressively defiant Miami Heat who rounded off a 4-1 series shocker with their second deficit-defying comeback in a row.
The real story out of all of this is Jimmy Butler, the Heat player whose hot-and-cold regular season performances seem to save space in his body and mind for playoff displays that beggar belief. He has dragged Miami to the semi-finals of the Eastern Conference and he is the best of a strong bunch of contenders elevating the game and upsetting the odds during what has already been an entertaining opening salvo.
It promises to be a bumpy ride for the form book as we head to June and the Larry O'Brien Trophy.
Post-loss, the Greek Freak, Antetokounmpo, carved out his corner of the fight for the soundbite when he grappled with a fair and extremely direct question put to him by a Bucks beat reporter, Eric Nehm, who covers that club for The Athletic.
The Bucks were the number one contender in the East and the boring tip for overall success. Yet here they were, limping out early against the one of lowest seeds left in their conference. There were injuries to contend with - not least of which the one keeping Antetokounmpo off of his dangerous peak - as well as Butler's well-timed decision to flame up when it mattered most.
His 42 points on Wednesday were the main contributory factor to a 16-point fourth quarter losing margin being flipped to an overtime victory. It followed a performance for the ages on Monday when his jaw-dropping 56 points also pulled Miami from behind, a recurring theme here but one that could end up being a feat that lasts long in the NBA memory.
But enough about success! How about the failure on the other side?
Poor Giannis, an athlete boasting a supreme combination of physical and personable gifts that not a single one of us can dream of possessing. His is the lofty and depressing responsibility of being team leader in the darkest moments, the player from whom everyone needs to hear what went wrong. It was on him to answer up for failure.
He had battled gamely through injury and he had done everything he could to help his team quell their locked-in opposing star who was lighting it up for the Heat. Was this season of so much hope and expectation, he was asked, a failure?
"Oh my god. You asked me the same question last year Eric," Giannis responded, visibly taking a beat or two in his mind to avoid expletives or maybe even hopping over the microphone to grab Nehm by the neck.
āMichael Jordan played 15 years, won 6 championships. The other 9 years were a failure?"
— NBA TV (@NBATV) April 27, 2023
Giannis on the Bucks 2022-2023 season https://t.co/0l69MKazCF
He would never. He is one of the classiest players in the league. But he knew he needed to choose his words carefully so he decided to ruminate a bit of the concept of failure.
"Do you get a promotion every year?" he asked a member of a profession so infamously devoid of opportunity. "No, so every year you work is a failure, yes or no? No. Every year you work, you work towards a goal. Whether it is to get a promotion, to take care of your family, to be able to provide a house for them or take care of your parents, you work towards a goal.
"It's not a failure, it's steps to success... There are always steps to it. You know, Michael Jordan played 15 years and won six championships. The other nine years were a failure? That's what you are telling me.
"There is no failure in sports, There are good days, bad days, some days you are able to be successful, some days you're not. Some days it's your turn, some days it's not your turn and that's what sport is about. You don't always win... This year, someone else gonna win. It's as simple as that."
Fully 50 years passed between the Bucks winning the NBA title. When Antetokounmpo led them to the promised land two years ago, the feeling across the NBA was that this was a foreboding of at least half a decade of dominance.
Not to be, for now. Oh to fail as brilliantly as Giannis Antetokounmpo.
There was an entertaining debate on ESPN this week between long time NBA analysts who never came close to playing a serious minute in their lives and an ex pro who was forced to gently castigate them as know-nothing blowhards.
On the one side was a pointed but, to be honest, measured critique of superstar players whose protracted absences due to injury contrasted much too starkly with their earnings. To which JJ Redick, the one guy at the table who had earned NBA money while battling his own injuries and resultant demons, calmly reminded the veteran reporters their opinions were cruel and ill-informed.
.@jj_redick responds to @stephenasmith saying Kawhi Leonard needs to be forced into retirement: pic.twitter.com/OrkcQRMclc
— First Take (@FirstTake) April 26, 2023
When Antetokounmpo buried his head in his hands to contemplate as to how he would answer for failure from a non-athlete without swearing, he was engaging in that same tense exchange of perspective. They both had their jobs to do and they both did it admirably.
Which leaves the rest of us scrambling around in the gutter, scooping up scraps of what sporting failure could even remotely feel like.
I like to think Iām an expert at failure in the most amateur, inconsequential sense. My soccer team proudly lurches from loss to draw to lucky win and then over to the bar to enjoy gallows humour and a few pints.
As if that wasnāt bad enough, a band of us over eager immigrants formed a softball team for the craic a year ago, wholly unaware of how deeply complicated and difficult softball is.
Many people problematically describe it as the girlās version of baseball. Iād rather it be denoted as the thirsty idiotsā futile attempt at the real thing.
The main difference is that it has a bigger ball, 60 feet between bases (as opposed to 90), four outfielders, an underhanded pitch and, most damningly of all, it makes space for useless teams like ours to take part.
In a crowded field, the Hudson Hound GlamRocks is one of the worst softball teams our league has ever seen. And one of the most joyous as well as being the best dressed, thanks to a weirdly supportive pair of sponsors.
Every Friday evening, as the sun ducks down behind midtown Manhattan, our squad gathers nervously by one of four softball diamonds located at the lower end of Central Park before proceeding to break new records for losing scorelines. We have banned the league from inflicting the inevitable āmercy ruleā on us because we just want to keep playing, if you donāt mind. We have cans in the cooler to finish.
I didnāt think our enjoyable failures could find new depths until last Friday when the good craic became a bad crack. After an opposing hitter struck a ball low along the ground towards me, I adjusted my body to make sure that when I inevitably didnāt catch it, I would at least block the path of the ball. Unexpectedly, it careened off one of the many divots of the infield and bulleted up to break the bridge of my nose. Blood on the sand emitted worried glances and I was compelled to hop in a cab to a pair of urgent cares in Chelsea and the East Village.
I would have been too stubborn to go get an X-ray were it not for my chaperone who took every opportunity to make a show of me in front of the staff for the next two hours.
And there wasnāt much sympathy the following day on the family WhatsApp where my mother did her classic build-break routine, advising me to retire from contact sports and failure. āSo much for a soft ball,ā she added.
Iām wrapping up this column after leaving the Ear, Nose and Throat specialist which is ironically and strategically located mere blocks from where the softball took me out a week ago.
The good news is that of the two types of nose breaks, I got the less bad one. As failures go, itās as good as you could hope for. Just like Giannis.
@JohnWRiordan
