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01x03 - Episode 3

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "Back on the Record with Bob Costas". Aired: July 30, 2021.*
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Interviews with the biggest names in sports, entertainment and popular culture, and discussions led by Bob Costas that will address today's most topical sports issues.

01x03 - Episode 3

Post by bunniefuu »

And we welcome you to the September

edition of "Back on the Record."

Later, new Laker and

new author, Carmelo Anthony,

a panel that includes two of the most

significant figures in sports,

NBA Players Association executive

director Michele Roberts

and DeMaurice Smith, who holds

the same position in the NFL.

And we start with one

of the most significant figures

in the entire history of sports

back in the spotlight now,

as he's the worthy subject of Ken Burns'

latest documentary,

which premiered this week on PBS.

Here's a glimpse of Ken Burns'

"Muhammad Ali."

Can I have

some of your cornflakes?

I don't want none.

I won't take none.

I won't eat none

if you don't want me to.

Look at that pretty horsey!

- Where?

- Is that a white horse?

See? No, no.

Stand up, look over there.

Stand up, you got to stand up,

over them hills.

See the people There he is.

What?

And we welcome

the documentarian Ken Burns

who's credits we will not list since the

program runs for only an hour,

and one of the people featured

in the documentary,

Muhammad Ali's daughter

Rasheda Ali.

Welcome to you both.

Rasheda, let's start with you.

We just saw one of the many

glimpses

of your dad's humanity in the film.

What moved you most

when you saw it?

A lot of things moved me,

specifically, the family videos,

the private family videos

of my dad.

In the opening scene, you saw,

you know, stealing cornflakes

from my older sister, Maryum.

There was footage of Daddy

holding me in his arms,

saying, "Don't you know your father's

the greatest boxer of all time?"

I've never seen that.

So watching my mom and my dad,

they were young parents.

And us growing up

in Cherry Hill, New Jersey,

it was just really beautiful

to watch my dad

as a father unfold on film.

It was just really

a beautiful moment for me.

Much of what you remember of your dad,

he's in the throes of Parkinson's.

It's a different version

of Muhammad Ali.

What did it mean to you

to see so much of him,

not just in the ring,

but outside the ring

as the true Muhammad Ali,

if that's a fair way to put it?

You know, I look at my dad,

and, as you watch the film,

you see obviously his

uncanny ability

to just really shock people in the ring.

So you see his abilities

in the ring is legendary,

but I think his stances

outside of the ring,

the stances he took

against the Vietnam w*r,

against the government,

his fight for racial equality

for his people,

and, finally,

his struggle with Parkinson's.

Those are the parts that I feel

made my dad an icon.

There's so much to get to.

The documentary runs nearly

eight hours, and it's four parts.

We can't even scratch

the surface,

but I've heard you say

that Muhammad Ali

is as relevant today

as he was then.

Absolutely, Bob.

And this is a film co-directed

by my daughter Sarah Burns

and her husband, David McMahon.

This is a guy who intersects

with all the major themes

of the last half of the 20th century.

The role of sports in society,

the role of the Black athlete,

the nature of Black manhood

and masculinity, race,

civil rights, w*r, politics,

faith, religion, sex,

all of these things, we're grappling

with them still today,

and he's there as a kind

of beacon and a guide.

And he's also incredibly

contradictory at times.

So he's an irresistible subject.

And the reason you put cornflakes,

stealing cornflakes at

the beginning of the film

is because when you have an icon,

you tend to grow an opacity,

you can't see them anymore.

You just know

the bold-faceness of them.

And that tells you there's

not a parent on Earth

that hasn't stolen French fries or

cornflakes or whatever from their kids.

This tells you that this is

a human being as well.

And it's important to first enter

into his story as a human being.

The documentary pulls no punches,

no bad pun intended here.

Was it difficult, or in some

sense did it provide

some sort of closure for you

to see your father's flaws and

imperfections depicted on the screen?

You know, I was uncomfortable.

Daddy was not perfect.

He said he wasn't perfect.

He told people

what his weaknesses were.

I did see him at times,

especially with his treatment,

with Joe Frazier.

Those weren't his best moments.

He was an unflawed hero.

But it really was

refreshing to see.

And I told Ken after I saw it

that you're constantly seeing this man

who's constantly evolving

into a better man.

And I will say that, you know,

Ken, Sarah, and David McMahon

did an outstanding job of telling

this very complicated story,

because some things are

black and white,

but this kind of goes

in the complicated section,

without losing who my father's

real essence was,

his heart, his compassion,

his love for people.

So I was really grateful

that they shared his flaws,

which there were,

but they didn't lose who he was.

He was sincere,

he was compassionate,

he was loving,

and they kept that in there.

And you saw him

as you watch him

constantly evolving

into a better person.

And by the end,

you almost forgive him

for the infidelities

and the treatment

of Joe Frazier

and with Malcolm X and all that

because you feel

that none of us are perfect,

and neither was my dad.

We'll get to some of that in a moment.

But to the particular point that

Rasheda raises about Joe Frazier,

here's one of the glaring

contradictions.

Here's a man of obvious

kindness, generosity, compassion,

and yet, let's take a look at this clip

regarding Joe Frazier and the build-up

to one of the three fights.

I'm gonna stop all these people

talking about Joe Frazier.

The still think Joe Frazier

can whup me.

I'm gonna show them. You see how

he's bouncing? See his head?

Ali insulted Frazier's intelligence,

claimed he smelled bad,

and snuck into one

of Frazier's training sessions

to harass him from

the catwalk above the ring.

By my measure,

the two worst episodes

of Ali's life were his casting

aside of Malcolm X,

and his treatment of Frazier

going into the third fight,

the Thrilla in Manila.

Got to hold the gorilla.

Got to capture the gorilla.

He called him the gorilla,

which rhymed

with the Thrilla in Manila

And he often used what were clearly

r*cist tropes against his opponents.

And yet he was one of the

giants of Black Consciousness

and of the Civil Rights Movement.

That's exactly right. And this is where

it's so stunning and necessary.

He is a great architect

of the drama of his fights,

not just within them,

but before them.

He's a great promoter,

he's a great hyper.

And it gets away

from him at times,

and it gets away from him

in an inexcusable way,

particularly

but not limited to Joe Frazier.

And in the case

of Joe Frazier, Todd Boyd,

the scholar who appears in the film,

says, you know,

"He's using the language

a white r*cist would use"

"to describe another Black man."

You know, to describe a Black man,

and here's, as he says,

the ultimate conscious Black guy

doing this, this is impossible.

And then Todd pauses, and he said,

"I just think, in this instance,"

"he used his powers

for evil and not for good."

All of sudden, you begin to realize we

are dealing with a kind of superhero,

a larger-than-life Greek hero

who has flaws and weaknesses,

along with the great strengths.

Achilles had his heel

and his hubris to go along.

And so this is one of the most

unfortunate of circumstances

in his professional life.

In the '60s and '70s,

there were others

within sports who made

significant contributions

to raising consciousness

about a variety of issues.

Billie Jean King, Curt Flood,

Arthur Ashe, Kareem, Jim Brown.

And others. Bill Russell.

But for a combination of reasons,

Muhammad Ali stands apart

and alone.

It has to do with sacrifice and risk.

He risked everything.

You have to understand,

this is a young, 20-something kid

who says, "I am not going

to be inducted into an army,"

where we know he'd just have

a cushy kind of show-job.

He's not gonna do it.

It's against his faith.

But because he's a Black man

in America in the '60s,

it can't be treated

as a faith decision.

It has to be seen

as a political decision,

giving a middle finger

to the United States.

And just from a sports standpoint,

he loses three prime years

at his absolute peak.

The fights just before the draft

takes him out of circulation.

Three and a half years Are among

the masterpieces of boxing.

What comes later are

dramatic fights,

but they're not the kind

of mastery that he had.

So we're talking about a hero

evolving on his journey,

but he carried

a burden no one else had,

and he looks at the camera, he said,

"I'm willing to face

machine-g*n fire today"

"rather than go against my faith."

Among the many things

that makes him singular.

Others may have been as committed.

He is so beautiful in his youth.

He is so charismatic,

he is so funny and entertaining,

even those who reviled him laughed

when they saw him on d*ck Cavett

or they saw him

with Howard Cosell.

He has this combination

of personal qualities.

Plus, boxing was central

to American sports fans now.

Most American sports fans

could not name

the present heavyweight

champion of the world.

It was then a very big deal.

And those he fought against

helped to define him.

They were secondary to him,

but they were not minor characters.

Sonny Liston, Joe Frazier,

George Foreman.

I agree completely.

We can't remember

I've been interviewed so many times

about this film, and I've asked

the sports writers,

"Who is the current heavyweight

champion?" And they don't know.

- I think after Muhammad Ali

- It's not Tyson Fury anymore, is it?

I don't know. It is Tyson Fury.

Where's my prize?

- You get the prize.

- It's Tyson Fury.

But this is the centrality

that I think we forget.

This was the most known

human being on the planet

because of his boxing skills.

He dies the most beloved person

on the planet

because of the kind of evolution

that Rasheda talks about.

And our inability, even today,

to tolerate contradictions

and undertow within people,

to presume that a hero

has to necessarily be perfect,

is a gigantic flaw because we lose

the whole definition of hero,

which is a struggle within that person

between their strengths

and their weaknesses.

And sometimes it's not a struggle.

It's a w*r.

It's not a negotiation. It's a w*r.

So what you have

in Muhammad Ali

is the arc of the entire

back half of the 20th century

and into our present moment,

taking place within

this dynamic human being

who is hilariously funny,

who is gorgeous.

"I'm pretty as a girl. 180 amateur

fights, 22 professional fights."

- "And I'm pretty as a girl."

- "I'm pretty as a girl."

This is who he is, and he is gorgeous.

I mean, if Michelangelo

was going to be sculpting

David today, he goes,

"Maybe not David.

Let me do Muhammad Ali."

And he's also the greatest

athlete of the 20th century

and I'm willing to have

that barstool argument, of all time.

- That's a barstool argument.

- Yes, it is.

He's quite possibly

the most consequential athlete.

In terms of pure athletic skill,

you can make a case for Michael Jordan

or for Babe Ruth in his time,

make a case for Wayne Gretzky,

et cetera, et cetera.

But the combination of

excellence and consequence

- Only Jackie Robinson rivals.

- Only Jackie Robinson.

- And as great a player

as Jackie Robinson was,

he wasn't as great as Willie Mays,

Hank Aaron, Babe Ruth or Joe DiMaggio.

This is what I think that Jackie

Robinson redefined Black masculinity

and Black manhood

for his generation.

And then Muhammad Ali came around,

tore up the script, and said,

"No, it's this other way."

And so, for many of us

growing up, as you remember,

you didn't know quite how to deal

with him at the beginning.

He wasn't exactly the way an athlete

was supposed to behave

and certainly not a Black athlete.

And Liston seemed

more familiar,

but then all of a sudden, the joie

de vivre, the love, the cause,

the things that he was

willing to sacrifice

transformed him

into a figure beyond anything.

We're still not talking about after

coming back from the draft interruption

and what he does

with the three Frazier fights,

what he does in Kinshasa,

what he does between the two Norton

fights and the two Spinks fights.

These are I call those fights

the kind of collected works

of William Shakespeare,

'cause they're drama

at the highest level.

I've been lucky enough to be around

so many memorable sports events.

But when people ask me

for the short list,

always at or near the top

is your dad lighting the torch

in Atlanta in 1996.

It was a perfectly staged moment

where he literally stepped

out of the shadows.

Only about a dozen people knew

it was gonna be him,

and I was not among them

because d*ck Ebersol,

who's idea it was to have your dad

be the last torch bearer,

he met some resistance.

Some of the organizers said,

"He may be a hero to you,"

"but down here in the South,

he's still a draft dodger."

And d*ck convinced them. "You're wrong.

Wait and see what happens."

And then he told me

and d*ck Enberg,

"I'm not gonna tell you.

You'll recognize him or her."

When he stepped

out of the shadows,

I still get goose bumps thinking

about it and talking about it.

It's 25 years ago, this summer.

It is incredibly

a moving moment,

and I think that's

the moment when I think

all of the scales kind of fell away

from our eyes.

There may be a few unreconstructed

brethren out there

who still are holding

some grudge against him,

but this is a man who

is going to, 20 years later,

die the most beloved person

on this planet.

And that is not the beginning

of the rehabilitation,

it comes with the first Frazier fight,

but it's where we let go.

- I call it reconciliation.

- It's reconciliation.

A moment of reconciliation

where it all came together,

and he himself told us, because he hung

around for some of the competition

In Atlanta, he said,

"I felt like I was born again."

This is a story about freedom,

and it's really tough

for a Black person

in this country to escape

the specific gravities

of the cruelties visited upon them.

This is about courage

in and outside of the ring,

willing to face a firing squad.

And this is about love,

that he understood

as much as anybody I've ever met

in the course of our investigations.

And at that moment,

I think we finally allowed him

to be who he always said he was.

People say, "Well, he was divisive."

It may be that we were divisive

and that we could begin to shed

the baggage

that we'd been carrying around

about him that was completely false.

When you see that moment, yet again

What does it make you feel and think?

First of all, I didn't even know

he was gonna light the cauldron,

so, for me,

the first thing I thought was,

"What a perfect person that the Olympic

committee would choose."

And my dad was honored.

He was so happy to be a part of this.

But we can't forget the fact

that my dad

had visible signs of Parkinson's and

he almost didn't want to do it.

Because he was uncomfortable

shaking in front of

- Remember how vain he was

- Yes.

At one time and his willingness

to present himself,

once the most voluble

and entertaining of athletes,

encased within the afflictions

of Parkinson's.

The willingness to do that

was so poignant.

He was very brave.

And he was courageous for him

to step out of his comfort zone

when he didn't have the voice

that he used to have.

He didn't have the gait,

the walk, that he used to have.

He had the masked face

of Parkinson's.

So he was uncomfortable,

but he was so honored.

Like you said, he was born again

because he was finally considered

an Olympic hero.

And I was so proud of him

that he did that.

This is common with all of us.

When someone we love is gone,

especially a parent,

do you find yourself saying,

"I wish I had said this to him"?

Or, "I wish I could have

asked him that"?

Look, my eyes

No

Because when I was

with my father

I said all I had to say, especially

on his last days, last hours here.

I told him

that I'll do the best

that I possibly can

to carry on your life

and legacy. And

Every moment

that we spent together

I cherished.

They were like gold,

and watching this film,

this beautiful film

I'm sorry. I'm just thinking

about Daddy now.

I was so inspired

and just so moved by his love

and his commitment

to his faith.

What he was willing to give up

and sacrifice

I really, really miss that,

especially now

in this time where we need

that kind of courage,

that kind of love,

that kind of power.

And as you watch this,

it's impossible

for you not to take that

and be automatically inspired

by his actions,

'cause he didn't have an easy life,

it wasn't an easy journey.

But to watch him go through this

evolution was just extremely

Motivating. And so, no, to answer

your question in short.

I said everything I had to say

to Daddy. I still talk to him every day.

And I think he's with us right now.

I think his energy is still with us.

And I think his cause is still with us,

and he's motivating us

to this day.

What can we possibly add, especially

given the limitations of time?

Thank you, Rasheda.

Always great to see you, Ken.

- Great to see you, Bob.

- Okay.

Carmelo Anthony still to come.

But first,

the subject is COVID vaccines

and those who remain defiant

in their refusal to do

what's best for themselves, their teams,

and their fellow citizens.

- Here's Bomani Jones.

- All right, thank you, Bob.

Now, listen to this.

The Buffalo Bills, located in an area

deemed high-risk for COVID-19

transmission in September,

made the responsible decision

to require

proof of vaccination

for their home games.

Some fans caught wind of

this and complained on Twitter.

Considering Bills tailgates

are famous for people doing

wrasslin' cosplay

with fiery folding tables,

maybe they prefer permission

to try and k*ll each other.

But whining in public worked out for

some of those fans, when two Bills,

Cole Beasley and Reid Ferguson,

responded by offering

to buy tickets for them

to attend Bills games

at stadiums that aren't governed

by common sense.

Now, is that good for whoever's

sitting next to those people? Yikes.

We usually love stories

where rich athletes

toss a little pocket change to make

a fan's dream come true.

But when the only reason

you're bankrolling

someone's trip to hang out

with 70,000 unmasked people

is that person has chosen not

to protect themselves and others,

you're just being a jerk.

Are Beasley and Ferguson

entitled to their opinions?

Sure. I'm entitled to mine.

They're being stupid.

They may oppose the NFL's

vaccination protocols all they want,

and they may be disappointed

that cause some of their fans

can't see the team

at Highmark Stadium.

But this isn't about personal liberty.

It's community transmission.

Beasley has been one of the most

pointlessly defiant players

in the NFL in 2021, using his

Twitter account and terrible logic

to rail against

the NFL and NFLPA's attempts

to stop players, coaches,

and staff from getting sick.

Man said he beat the odds

to get to the NFL,

so he figures

COVID can beat the odds

and overcome a vaccine

and make him seriously ill.

I thought we buried them

all in 1996,

but Beasley sounds like a "No Fear"

T-shirt has come back from the dead.

Be as mad as you want,

Cole, but understand,

this is about us, the big us,

not just the vaccinated,

not just those

who don't want the vaccine,

but also those

who would take it but can't.

Don't inflict your selfishness

upon those of us

who are more worried

about dying than you are.

And, please, do not pass it off

as charity. Bob?

And on that note, joining Bomani now

on the panel,

the executive directors of the NBA

and NFL Players Associations,

Michele Roberts

and DeMaurice Smith.

Okay, let's continue

where Bomani left off.

By the way, we reached out to Cole

Beasley through his representative.

We have not heard back

from either one.

What do you say to

the Cole Beasleys of the world?

I mean, everybody is certainly entitled

to their own opinion.

No one's entitled

to their own facts.

I think, for me, where we sit,

we did, I thought,

a good job of making sure

that our players had

the choice to take the vaccine,

that is wasn't mandated by

the National Football League.

But, you know, honestly, Bob,

more curiously,

no one here is talking

about Dion Dawkins,

another player on the Buffalo Bills

who chose to get the vaccine,

quote, "because he knew

it was the right thing to do,"

but, nonetheless, got COVID,

felt like he was going to die.

To me, I would much rather talk

about the Dion Dawkins of the world,

who, actually,

I think, made the right choice.

And, frankly,

being an African American man

who, I think,

sets a very good example,

for why I think we should

embrace this vaccine,

knowing that it is

scientifically validated

and knowing

that it actually saves lives.

Look, I'll have a conversation

with Cole Beasley.

We will always have conversations

with Cole Beasley,

but at the end of the day, I would

rather champion the fact that,

I think, over 94% of our players

have got the vaccine

and knowing how important

that that message

needs to be emphasized

in our communities.

And that number

in the NBA is around 90%.

Yeah, it's around 90%.

It'll probably go up.

Camp opens on Monday, so we'll get

a more accurate count.

When you compare what the professional

athletic community has done,

by way of taking vaccinations,

to the rest of us,

we're doing pretty darn well.

It's the rest of us that need

to take, as D says,

a look at what the athletic community

is doing and try to mimic that.

Fair enough,

but you have also said that,

"I give those who choose

not to be vaccinated a pass"

"because it's a sincerely held

view or opinion."

You know, there are 70%

of Republicans in this country

who sincerely believe that

Donald Trump won the election.

Are we supposed

to respect that?

Are we supposed to respect when

someone says the Earth is flat?

- I hope it's not.

- Including one of your constituents?

I hope it's not the case

that those people who believe

that Donald Trump won the election

are doing that

because God tells them so.

The players I've spoken with who

do genuinely hold religious beliefs

that they shouldn't are getting

that message from their churches,

from their pastors,

and they are sincere.

So I think it's an unfair comparison,

to be perfectly candid with you.

I think one thing

that's important to note is that,

as a union, you, I feel like,

have a duty whatever

If they say, "We're going to make you

guys do something," whatever it is,

the word "make" means an obligation

to push back on it

and then figure out

where it goes from there.

But I wonder the balance that you wind

up having, because the math of it says

your constituencies are

better off being vaccinated,

but you also have to protect the rights

of those who, for whatever reason,

decide that they don't want to do it.

So what was it like for you guys,

coming up with the approach to try

to get this across to players

as, like, "These are the options, but we

really do want you to do this thing"?

Well, it's to do

what we think is right

and what's grounded

in science and fact.

And we told them that that was

the position of the union,

that we believe they should

take the vaccine.

But at the same time, to your point,

Michele and I are constrained

by the fact that we're union leaders.

It's nothing that I run away from.

It's nothing that she runs away from.

We live in a world where,

if a player decides

to fight something that's

not collectively bargained,

we're constrained

by two things.

One, the collective bargaining

agreement, and, second,

that every player has a duty

of fair representation.

So imagine a world where the

league mandates the vaccine.

One or two or many of our players

decide not to get the vaccine,

would this union step in

and defend their right

to not be forced to take a vaccine that

wasn't collectively bargained? Yes.

Your CBA runs to 2030,

so maybe we're speaking

theoretically here,

but there's always the possibility

that a CBA could be reopened.

Could a league say, any league say,

given what we've now learned,

we want a clause inserted

in agreements going forward,

a sort of force majeure clause

that says

if we have overwhelming evidence

that we can't run our business

this way,

that we require certain things

of our athletes, we require

They're conditions of employment. And

a condition of employment in this case

would be that you have

to be vaccinated.

Would seem like

a legitimate position to take

where the mutual interests

of a players association

and a league would coincide.

Michele?

Sure. That's something that

Our CBA expires, I think, in 2023.

It's something that we can have a

conversation about and agree to.

But it is still the case

that it has to be agreed to.

I mean, look, D didn't say to the NFL,

nor did I say to the NBA,

"We're not gonna have

compulsory vaccination."

We took it to our players.

They voted, and I'm constrained

to uphold that vote.

And so, if and when

And you know what, Bob?

There probably will be that kind of

conversation. No one saw this coming.

I wouldn't be surprised if there was

that kind of conversation going forward.

And it may be that this

experience will find itself

convincing players

that going forward

we're gonna allow this to be

a mandatory vaccination.

But right now it's not,

and as D says, if I have

to litigate it, I'll litigate it.

This applies to you,

at least for the time being.

Two cities, New York and San Francisco,

have city ordinances

that say you cannot enter

an indoor facility

for a big event

unless you are vaccinated.

That wouldn't have an impact on the NFL

in either of those cities.

We're not talking

about domed stadiums.

But we are talking about the Nets,

the Knicks, and the Warriors.

And we know that each

of those teams,

we have reason to believe,

has unvaccinated players.

That's gonna put their teams

at a competitive disadvantage.

As of right now,

the visiting team

Because they're not residents,

I guess, is the technicality,

the visiting team would be

at full strength.

But the Nets, Knicks, or Warriors

at home would not be.

You have hit

the nail on the head, Bob.

And that is a conversation

that is happening

in those three locker rooms

as we speak.

It's our position

that the league is not,

in that instance, compelling

the player to be vaccinated.

But the city,

San Francisco, New York,

can compel vaccination for people

that come into their facilities.

So these players, these teams are

having conversations right now.

It may be that they will conclude

that it's in the best interest

of their team, not withstanding

their personal objection,

that they'll get the vaccination.

But if they don't, then New York

is saying loudly and clearly,

"You're not getting into Madison Square

Garden or Barclays Center."

And as it stands, we'll have to cross

that road when we get there.

And to broaden this out to the NFL,

Sean McDermott, who happens

to be the coach of the Bills,

at last check, they weren't

quite at the league average,

somewhere in the 80% range

in terms of their roster.

He says, "This is placing us

at a competitive disadvantage"

"because we must abide by the protocols

close contacts and all the rest."

"Sometimes we won't be able

to practice, to have a full roster."

Jerry Jones, never to be

confused with a left-winger,

has said,

"Look, sports is all about we."

"We always talk about we. This is

all about I. What's going on here?"

Welcome to the everyday life

of a union leader in sports.

- All right, want to move on?

- We can do that.

- Ball's in your court.

- Okay.

We have had some discussions

here about different things.

And one thing we've talked about is

the idea of empowerment of players.

And one thing is starting early

before they get you guys

with name, image, and likeness

and as it goes on in college sports.

How does it help How are you guys

related or dealing with players,

or even just the cause in general,

with name, image, and likeness?

Like, what is the relationship

with the current unions

and that movement that we're

seeing on the college level?

Well, you know, I hate to always jump

into the legal side of it,

but Michele and I are lawyers

and, frankly,

used to try cases against each other

back when we had other jobs.

You told me that Michele had a

decidedly winning record against you.

Let's just say that I respect

her trial acumen.

Bob, you got it right.

I know all of our unions supported,

whether it was amicus briefs

or taking legal positions

against the NCAA because

name, image, and likeness,

in and of itself, is a conversation

about the identity of these athletes.

And an organization making a decision

that they could unilaterally

own something

that truly defined

what a person was,

to me, is not only inconsistent

with traditional labor views

but inconsistent

of what it means to be a human.

Let me jump in, though. This shouldn't

effect professional athletes.

Professional athletes

can do what they want

in terms of endorsements

and personal appearance.

It could on a couple of levels.

You know, one, you're

now seeing a number of players

either accept businesses before

they even get into college.

I think one high-profile

quarterback in Alabama

already as an NIL contract

in the millions of dollars.

It won't impact us,

but it's important for us

to recognize

and, I think, support

the idea that athletes aren't

two-dimensional individuals.

Why would we ever sit back

and allow somebody

like the NCAA to define

an athlete as someone

that doesn't have control over

his name, image, and likeness?

And I think that's a battle

for all sports,

whether or not it's a professional

league or an amateur.

You had a thought you wanted to make

We'll ask you to do it briefly

About the American gymnasts,

about Aly Raisman

and Simone Biles and others and how

they were out there alone

without any sort

of organized representation.

Look, and that is every parent's,

every person's nightmare.

You're dropping your kids

off at a university

to pursue a sport that they love.

And when someone comes

across a predator

who takes advantage of them

and they raise the issue,

and whether it was the FBI

or the Department of Justice

or other law enforcement people,

they turn a blind eye,

but worse than that,

all of this is going on

while none of them have an

organization that has their back.

And NCAA, that prides itself

I think the slogan is,

"We stand behind every athlete."

At least in that case, that's exactly

where they were. Behind.

And to have a group of people

who found themselves,

for the most part, alone,

fighting this,

I think is one of the most shameful

things I've seen in sports.

Two very quick things

before we have to run here.

Tom Brady recently made the point.

It's fine that NFL players have roughly

48% of the league's total revenues.

But look at the equity

in these franchises.

Look at how exponentially

franchise values have grown.

How do the players tap into that?

And there are huge differences,

which we don't have time to detail,

between football and almost any

other sport, in fact, any other sport,

which makes your job different

and more difficult.

Sure, and, look, Tom has always

been a great union guy.

Has always supported the NFLPA.

We had a good conversation

after his Instagram post.

To be blunt,

what drove Tom crazy was,

why aren't more football players

taking ownership of being

active people in their union?

How come we aren't standing up?

And his particular context was,

when a group of players

and our player leaders decided

that we shouldn't be going to OTAs

because we're giving away

our services for free,

the first team on board that said we

weren't gonna go to work for free

was the Tampa Bay Buccaneers,

led by Tom Brady.

OTAs being off-season

workouts, training

Organized training activities, which

is another way for the league to say,

"Please come on in and give

your services away for free."

But when he sees other teams

and other quarterbacks

make the decision to go in and continue

to give away their work for free,

but get a competitive edge,

perhaps, from it

He doesn't care He's Tom Brady.

He's not staying up at night worrying

about a competitive advantage.

That is an excellent point.

Continue.

But I think what drove him crazy,

and what our conversation was,

he knows that the leverage

and the strength of players

is when we do things as a unified,

solidified group of people

with a common interest,

and for that, he's right.

When players come together,

like they did,

when players responded

to someone who called

their mothers a certain name,

to your point, Bomani,

that was the first time,

and maybe one of the only times

when I've seen NFL owners afraid.

A unified group of people

deciding that we're gonna kneel

in defiance to something?

Well, that gets under the skin

of people who don't look like me.

So, at the end of the day,

I love the fact

that we've got a quarterback

like Tom Brady

who's willing to call out

other players like himself.

Last thing, and it's directed toward

you, having already stipulated

that the NFL world is different from

the other organized team sports.

The vote among the players

on the last CBA was close.

And a number of them,

Aaron Rodgers, among them,

J.J. Watt among them, said, "We didn't

get enough for what we gave up."

It's a dangerous sport,

we all know that.

They add an extra

regular season game.

You got some concessions.

On balance

Actually, we got

more than concessions, Bob.

We increased our revenue

by more than a point.

That's over a billion dollars.

So I know where you're going,

but I'm not gonna sit back

and allow the conversation to be framed

as "we got some concessions."

- When we increased

- You won some points.

When we increased the salary

and the money coming to players,

and there's a B after that,

for "billion,"

I would never call that

a concession, right?

I mean, if somebody made a decision

to pay you a billion dollars,

would you say that you got

a concession? No.

- That I got what was coming to me.

- 100%, and so it was a close vote.

It was majority rule.

The majority of players voted

for the deal, and that's where we are.

Bomani, D, Michele,

thanks to you all.

And now we turn our attentions

to Carmelo Anthony,

who's memoir, right here,

is just out.

It's called, "Where Tomorrows

Aren't Promised."

It's a thoughtful and, at times,

poignant recollection

of his youth and the circumstances

that shaped him.

Our recent conversation

includes the book, of course,

but we started by talking

about his new basketball home

and the reasons he's gone there.

You're going to Lakers.

You make no bones about it.

- You're searching for a ring.

- Absolutely.

I mean, this is the perfect time

to do that,

and I think the time

is now to really play on that level.

I done been to the

West Conference Finals,

I done been to the second round and

first round, and now it's time to play.

People would be interested to learn,

if they hadn't heard it previously,

that you and LeBron go all

the way back to high school.

You played in high-level

high-school games.

Yes, we met at USA Basketball.

We've both been in USA Basketball

families since we was 15, 16 years old.

So that's when we first originally met.

We've been connected ever since then,

but we've always been playing against

each other, especially in high school.

When I was at Oak Hill, he was

at St. Vincent/St. Mary's,

we played together on ESPN.

And we just been connected

ever since that day.

The game between your Oak Hill

and his St. Vincent/St. Mary's,

that was an epic game.

- Yes.

- Televised on ESPN.

You both had great games,

but your team won.

We won. But people don't understand

that that game was in the middle

of All-Star Weekend in Philadelphia.

So we had the whole, you know,

hoopla of All-Star Weekend,

and everybody who came to the game

to see me and him play.

And it was just a surreal

feeling at that moment.

This Laker roster is not

exactly wet behind the ears.

- You're 37.

- Yes.

LeBron's 36. Trevor Ariza is 36.

Rajon Rondo and Dwight Howard

are each 35.

Russell Westbrook is 32,

and there's four other guys on the

roster who are also in their 30s.

I mean, the next step is

an old-timer's game.

We love it.

You know, basketball is basketball.

The only thing that we have to,

like, really lock in on is our health.

You know,

we just got to stay healthy.

And I think that would be

the only thing that's in our way

as far as getting to where

we need to get, is our health.

So we just got to stay healthy.

I talked to Mike Krzyzewski,

your coach

on three of the four

Olympic teams you played on,

one of the most respected

people in all of sports.

He couldn't say enough about

how much he appreciated you,

not just as a talent,

but as a person.

And one of the lines he threw

at me was,

"This guy will accept any role

you give him."

Absolutely.

Because I had to accept

different roles on those teams

that Coach K coached,

and it was different players,

different style of players.

I went to him and said, "Coach,

just let me know what I need to do."

Or, "Coach, I'm gonna do this.

You know, don't worry about that."

So I took it upon myself to, like,

accept a lot of the different roles,

but I also knew what was

at stake on those teams.

You have said, "I've always,

or at least often, been the villain,"

"and so I just got used to it."

But everybody who knows you

doesn't just agree with the villain

characterization, they go the other way.

Krzyzewski says,

"I want this guy on the bus."

"I want him on the plane.

I want him in the locker room."

"I want him on the floor

in every big moment,"

"even if the moment isn't about him."

That completely belies the image.

Yeah, well, the narrative

of what the villain is,

like, you got to have a hero,

you got to have a villain.

So I don't mind playing

the villain role.

But I think that was thrown upon me,

that was given to me by force.

So I took it, I embraced it,

and I know who I am.

I know who I am as a person,

I know what I can do,

I know how I think, I know how I move,

and I don't mind being the villain.

You're the tenth

leading scorer in NBA history.

You'll soon pass Moses Malone

for ninth.

One year with the Knicks, you led the

NBA in scoring, nearly 29 a game.

The rap on you with the Knicks was,

he's controlling the ball too much,

everybody else is standing around.

Krzyzewski says, "You want

to get the ball to Carmelo"

"when he's about to make

something happen."

"Either he's gonna sh**t it,

or he's gonna pass it"

"to the open man who will make

something happen."

"It was a matter of the personnel

surrounding him with the Knicks"

"that that couldn't happen as often

as some people wanted it to."

- Yes.

- Have I got that right?

That hit the nail right on the head

because you have to be who you are

in order to have

some type of success,

in order to establish

yourself and who you are.

My years on the Knicks, I mean,

it was a couple teams

that we had that was very good,

but most of the time,

it was just me trying to figure it out

and bring guys along

and putting the ball in my hands

and me trying to make

something happen.

And for some reason,

I was the only person

who got ridiculed

for that around the whole NBA,

and I think throughout

the history of the NBA.

Nobody. Maybe Kobe.

But it baffled me,

'cause I'm like, "Why me?"

I'm the only one

I do this at a high level.

I work on this every single day

for years and years and years,

but to put that narrative

and that stigma on me,

I just thought it was unfair

at that point.

This is your 19th season

coming up in the NBA.

Ten times an All-Star.

There was a period where you were

knocking around a little bit.

You went to Atlanta for a while,

you got waived.

You went to Houston,

Chris Paul and James Harden,

but that lasted only

for a few games.

You go to Chicago,

and they released you.

And at one point, you said,

"I was so embarrassed."

"I took a hit to my ego that I didn't

even want to go to my kids' games."

Absolutely.

The ego hit came in Houston.

I mean, Atlanta and Chicago

came from three-team trades

and just trying to get money

off the books,

them helping other teams out.

But the Houston situation

is kind of what really made me

take that hit to my ego

'cause I had just came

from being an All-Star

here in New York

and then going to OKC.

And in Houston, they was telling me,

"Melo, you are the missing link."

"This is what we need.

This is what we want."

So I accepted that, but when I got

there, it was a different story.

My ego just took a bruise,

'cause I'm just like, "Why me?"

"Like, why is this happening

to me out of all people?"

Tough one. LeBron or Kobe?

Man, I'm gonna break it down

to you why. I would say

I would say Kobe,

in the sense of

what Kobe has done,

how he's done it,

what he had to overcome to do it.

Playing a villain role, you know,

all the stigma on him

and just everything

he had to overcome

and just his mentality,

his tenacity,

the way he approached the game,

Kobe is a different breed.

LeBron is another

different breed.

His approach to the game

is second to none.

The way he know the game,

him being a student of the game,

him being a teacher of the game.

Him being able to turn it on

and turn it on and turn it on.

Him understanding what it takes

to play at the high level

and to be at the high level

and to stay at the high level,

taking care of his body,

taking care of his mind,

not letting nothing come

in between that.

They're similar in that way.

Kobe was

- They're maniacal about preparation

- Yes, absolutely.

So those two mindsets and their

mentality is very similar.

As far as game goes,

I think they're completely

two totally different people,

two totally different players.

You've always been interested

in social issues.

The Carmelo Anthony Foundation

speaks to that.

Boeheim reminded me,

when I spoke with him recently,

that you gave $3 million to Syracuse

right after you signed

your first pro contract.

The league is more outwardly concerned

with social-justice issues now.

- Yes.

- Are you happy about that?

And what do you think that the players

in the league can do better,

not just symbolic things, but to have

more of a positive, practical effect?

I'm very happy at where

the NBA is at now,

as far as allowing

the guys to go out and speak

on various issues that affect our

community and us, as individuals.

You see that now. You see more

and more athletes,

starting to come out and talk about

things, tackle certain issue.

You see guys at city halls

and the courthouses just

fighting for different laws.

I'm happy from that standpoint.

I'm happy that everybody's

starting to use their voice.

The support of the NBA

has been, like, phenomenal.

I will say that, because

if it wasn't for Adam Silver

allowing us to go out there

and just be individual, be humans,

and also understand that we have family,

we have friends in these environments.

If he would have fought that,

then I think the NBA would be

totally different today.

What do you say

if someone says this,

"I am in substantial agreement

with the social justice causes"

"that animate a lot of NBA players."

"But 2020 in the Bubble

was a unique situation."

"There weren't any fans

in attendance"

"when the Bucks decided after

Jacob Blake got shot in Kenosha"

"that they'd walk off

and make a statement."

"It was immediate aftermath

of George Floyd."

"It was a special situation, and now

concentrate on all the issues,"

"but some of us just want

to watch the game,"

"and we don't want it in our face

when we're watching the game."

"Even if we'd watch

a documentary about it"

"or watch me interview Carmelo

Anthony for half an hour about it"?

It was tough.

2020 in the Bubble was tough,

due to all of the, you know,

the social justice issues

that was occurring

at that point in time,

and COVID on top of that.

And you're trying

to bring sports back.

So you're trying to put us

in this bubble,

so the mindset of that is,

you guys have to work with us

in order to make this happen,

meaning the NBA.

You guys have to work with us,

because if we gonna do this,

if we're gonna make you

guys happy

by putting us in a bubble

and playing basketball,

then we have to address

these issues together.

And from that standpoint,

it worked.

I personally thought that it was

gonna be thrown in people's face.

Like, every time it was

gonna just be overbearing.

But when I was in it,

it didn't feel like that.

It felt needed.

It felt like it had to happen.

- In that moment in time.

- In the moment, yes.

And now the issues

shouldn't be abandoned,

but maybe the approach evolves

as the circumstances evolve.

Yes, well, it's 2.0 now.

We got to figure out what's next.

How we gonna make an impact?

We spoke up, we marched.

You know, there was riots.

There was conversations. There was

tears. You had teams that was

Milwaukee Bucks didn't play, they

protested. So we're past that now.

Now it's, what impact

are we gonna make?

What change are we gonna make?

Each league has its own COVID

policies, and they're evolving.

There's overlap,

but there are differences.

In the NBA as we speak,

all the coaches,

all team personnel, everybody who

interacts with the players on game day,

the fans who sit in proximity to the

benches, all have to be vaccinated.

But there's no mandate that the players

have to be vaccinated.

Most of them are, but there's no

mandate that they all have to be.

- How do you feel about that?

- I think it's smart to be

- I was against it.

- Against what?

I was against getting the vaccine,

but I say that because

I wasn't educated enough.

And I have my own personal reasons

and thoughts and rhyme to the reason,

but as I become more educated,

understanding a lot of people

can be put at risk,

and we wanted to get back

on the court.

We wanted fans to get back

on the court.

As you can see, the NBA has always

been the pioneer in kind of just

putting the fork down and saying,

"This is how we gonna do it."

And then you start seeing everybody

else kind of follow our lead.

I'm for it. You know,

I want guys to be healthy.

- You have been vaccinated?

- I'm vaccinated, yes.

It took a while for me to get

vaccinated, and it was hard.

It was a mental challenge and

I had to talk to a lot of people.

- What was your misgiving?

- I just didn't know too much about it.

I just was feeling

like it was rushed, you know?

That we wasn't getting

the right information.

- But now it's FDA-approved.

- Yeah. It's FDA-approved.

And the evidence is overwhelming that

it's more than helpful and effective.

Yes, so, you know, at that point,

it was just a lot going on,

and I felt like we were being rushed

and forced to take a vaccine.

It's something that a lot

of people wasn't educated on.

I enjoyed reading your memoir

very much.

It's short, it's relatively quick read,

but we can't do it full justice here.

It's very thoughtful.

But just a few things

You spent part of your childhood

in Red Hook, Brooklyn,

a general area which, at one time,

was called the crack capital.

Absolutely.

Then you were at the

West Baltimore Murphy Homes,

which was more commonly known

as the m*rder Homes.

And in your memoir, you detail how you

could be in a playground sh**ting hoops,

and on one side, there's little girls

playing jacks or jumping rope.

On the other side, there's gangbangers,

hustlers, dope addicts.

This is the environment

you grew up in?

That was my environment, and you had

to embrace that environment.

There's no telling

what you was gonna see

on any given moment

or any given day.

So I wasn't gonna let

that deter me from anything.

I'm gonna play basketball. Whatever

y'all doing over there, y'all doing.

This is my environment,

and this is what happens

in those environments.

Where you grew up in

Baltimore, roughly speaking,

that's where the HBO series

"The Wire" is set.

- How accurate?

- The backdrop is very accurate.

The storyline is

I would say is very close

to being as accurate

as it can be due to television.

I just know the story.

I know the people the story is about,

so I think that's what keeps me

close to that, you know?

I used to walk to school

and walk through the middle

of production to get to school,

not knowing what they was sh**ting

or what they was filming.

And then years later,

here comes "The Wire."

So for us to have that, and the

rest of the world sees that?

Now it's like,

"You know, we're here."

"West Baltimore is here.

We have a story to tell."

"People know where we from."

"There's gonna be an awareness

brought to our community."

And that's how we accepted that.

Something I found poignant

in your memoir

of your childhood

and young adulthood,

your mom would take you to the

Museum of Natural History

The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

She had a sense that

she wanted her children

to have some feeling

for a broader world.

Yeah, and that was done on purpose.

No matter what was going on,

we were going to the museum.

We were going places,

and my mom was very big

on tapping into other aspects of life.

Your dad died when you were just

a small child, two or three years old.

His name was Carmelo.

There was a time when you tried to pass

yourself off as Tyrone Johnson.

- Why?

- I

I just didn't understand.

Like, I didn't have

no understanding of my name.

I mean, I knew I was, you know,

Puerto Rican, you know?

I knew my dad was, my family

I just didn't understand why.

You know,

I grew up in a Black household.

So Carmelo is not a common name

in a Black household.

So I'm going from Red Hook in New York

where it's so diverse.

You know, you have Puerto Ricans,

you have Irish, Italians, Blacks,

and then you go to Baltimore

where it's predominantly Black.

I didn't see Carmelo fitting in that.

But now

you more than embrace it.

And although you barely have

real-time memories of your dad,

you wanted to know everything

about him, and you're proud of him.

Yeah, definitely I'm proud of him.

I think I know my dad more,

and I feel like I feel closer

to my dad now than I ever did.

You know, for so long,

I didn't do the research.

I didn't try to figure out and discover

who my dad was or my roots.

And then once I started doing

my own kind of self-discovery,

that's when I started tapping

into who my dad,

and realizing it's a lot

of similarities.

And I'm still I'm able to carry

that torch for him right now.

- I hope you get that ring.

- Me too.

- Great to see you again, Melo.

- Thank you, Bob. Appreciate it.

Carmelo's book actually ends the night

he's drafted by the Denver Nuggets

and enters the NBA,

and that's purposeful.

Tales of his professional

basketball exploits

will have to wait for another book.

In this one, Carmelo wanted

readers to consider

the textured coming-of-age

story he wanted to tell.

Okay. Our closing segment

is called "Consider This."

And tonight we consider

the most ill-considered rule

in major American team sports.

Until a few years ago, we would've had

to have given serious consideration

to baseball's 40-man

September rosters,

which for decades had

down-the-stretch,

heat-of-the-pennant-race games

played under

weirdly abnormal conditions

with 8 lefties

in a 20-man bullpen

and 6 pinch runners available

in a dugout so crowded,

it resembled a subway platform

at rush hour.

But with baseball having come

to its senses on that one

and with a ghost runner

on second in extra innings

not being part

of any postseason games,

the dubious distinction now

belongs to the NFL

and its blatantly unfair

and wrongheaded overtime rule,

especially when applied

in the postseason.

The idea that a playoff game,

including the Super Bowl,

can end automatically after

a first-possession touchdown

in overtime is insane.

And one definition of insanity,

by the way,

is doing the same thing over and over

and expecting a different result.

And yet, consider what's happened

in just the last few years.

The Falcons' Matt Ryan

was the NFL's MVP in 2016.

In "Super Bowl LI," the Patriots

won the overtime coin toss,

scored a touchdown,

and Ryan never touched the ball.

Pointing this out

takes nothing away

from the Patriots' remarkable

comeback in that game,

nor does it absolve the Falcons

for giving the game away

with dubious

fourth-quarter strategy,

but if the flip

had gone the other way,

the same thing could've happened

to Tom Brady and the Patriots,

and it did happen to Aaron Rodgers

in back-to-back postseasons,

first against Seattle

and then against Arizona

and to Patrick Mahomes

against Brady and the Patriots

in the AFC title game

a few seasons later

and to Drew Brees a season

after that.

And yet, the NFL, usually so shrewd

about the presentation of its product,

continues to run

the considerable risk

of keeping some of its

biggest stars on the sidelines

in the biggest moments

in the biggest games.

This rule, ending a game

on a touchdown

but allowing it

to continue after a field goal

is like saying that if in the seventh

game of the World Series,

the team batting in the top of the 10th

scores on a home run, the game is over.

But if they score on a single or a

sacrifice fly, then the game continues.

To call this both capricious

and illogical would be kind.

Think about this.

Here we have a league

that measures within a millimeter

to determine a first down,

that looks at six different

angles to parse a call

on a play in the second

quarter of an October game

between the Jaguars and the Jets

but then lets playoff games,

including the Super Bowl,

be so influenced by something

as random as the toss of a coin.

Let's not worry

about the NFL's regular season.

There are reasons then

to get things over quickly.

But in the playoffs,

no one's going anywhere.

In fact, the audience is building

and so, too, are the stakes

and the drama.

At the very least,

each team must be guaranteed

at least one possession

and better yet, why not play 10-minute

periods in the postseason

until a game is actually decided,

thereby restoring much

of the strategy

that now is all but completely missing

in overtime, clock management.

The race against time and all the

strategic moves that surround it

are part of the game's theater

and appeal.

Why take those crucial elements

out of the conclusion

of the games that matter most?

If some of this rings a bell, yes,

I made this very point

a few years ago on NBC.

Inexplicably, the NFL

didn't listen to me then.

But they still could listen now

before it happens again

in the Super Bowl.

And speaking of clock management,

our final seconds are now ticking away.

I'll be busy with the

baseball postseason in October.

We're back on the record

November 12th. And we'll see you then.