The Seven Stages of Rudy Gay: Defiance
USA Today Sports
Last night Rudy Gay was traded from the Toronto Raptors to the Sacramento Kings and we here at Hickory-High are still trying to work through the intellectual and emotional confusion (I don’t just mean confusion about the trade but general confusion about Rudy Gay as a professional basketball). Join us as we travel through The Seven Stages of Rudy Gay.
I heard about the seven stages of Rudy Gay and decided I’d chime in with my own stage: Defiance.
My name is Rudy Carlton Gay and I’m a pro basketball player. I’m handsomely paid (and good looking too), but people like to criticize my shot selection. They say I shoot too many mid-range jumpers, that I’m inefficient because of how, where, and when I shoot. People make jokes about the eye surgery I had this summer and suggest the doctors made my vision worse. (Pfft. Before the surgery, I couldn’t see jack. Now? I beat DeMar and Kyle in shooting contests on the regular. Look forward to busting Jimmer’s ass too.)
From a statistical point of view, I acknowledge I’m having the worst shooting season of my career. You try carrying this squad that was built to lose and tell me how your shooting percentage is supposed to go up when your usage rate is over 30% and Coach Casey is in your ear telling you that you remind him of Connie Hawkins and that the light’s always green. Shit, I’m playing my best defense and trying to win; just sometimes it doesn’t work out.
I’m not stopping doing me though. One thing I’ve learned is that athletics and team sports are all about conformism. They start you out young, trying to get you to sacrifice for the team, for the group, to sacrifice your identity. They offer you things in return … cars, girls, money … and all you have to do is just conform. Give in to the style, the decisions, the silly outputs and shot charts telling me about my hotspots. I don’t need a color-coded shot chart to know I shoot better at the rim than from 20-feet! Sorry, sorry … I just get tired of these people trying to cram me into a closet of efficiency. It’s stifling, man.
Anyways … I got to jet. In case you didn’t hear, I’m a King now. Always have been a king, heh. Anyone know what the winters are like in Sacramento?