They Don't Care
Zion Williamson is 22 days older than I am. A slightly older 22 years old, but we both graduated high school in 2018. That’s where the similarities end; I have more memories of his senior year than I do of my own.
I had a classmate that went to Duke that fall, just as Zion did. We went to an excruciatingly small private high-school, where I had played for four years. I had never seen her at a game and had never heard her mention hoops, or any sport for that matter. This is not an insult of course - huge chunks of my adolescence were spent on crutches and/or biting my shirt like Kobe, rooting for Andray Blatche - she was probably better off that way. But for all I knew, she couldn’t tell the difference between a basketball and a pumpkin. She damn sure knew who Zion Williamson was, though, upon arriving at Duke.
Mid-way through my freshman year of college, a mutual friend told me she’d won a bet within her friendly group of Dukies. They all spotted Zion at some party - how could you not? -, but she was the first to get his Snapchat handle.
LeBron is one of a handful of amateur hoopers that even matched the hype Zion received, and retrospectives on those early LeBron days talk about how advanced his mental was at that age. Improvement was the only thing on his mind, winning consumed him, he treated the end goal as his day-to-day, yada yada yada. Comparing his experience to Zion’s would be like comparing Fred Flinstone and Dale Earnhardt as drivers. Present-day LeBron, still driven and psychotically competitive, is a much more relevant data point. Everybody knows who LeBron is, and they’ve all seen the memes: “He lies! He doesn’t read the books he brings with him to press conferences! He couldn’t come up with a favorite Godfather quote! Hahahah-no I don’t know how Cleveland is doing. That’s who he plays for, right?”
That is the Zion experience.
Nobody is fully impenetrable anymore, only irrelevant. The Online phenomenon of exposing is synonymous with the human phenomenon of caring. We saw pictures of Kawhi Leonard - Kawhi Leonard! - at the strip club six months into the pandemic. The whole world (that cares enough) has seen LeBron Jr. chiefing a blunt.
There was the flirty Snapchat an 18-year-old Zion sent to some girl, exposed to the whole world. I’m sure, as the highest priority recruit in a decade, he did have a big room at Duke! No, that wasn’t my classmate who did the dirty work; with 5% less respect for others, though, it could’ve been.
Do I need to get into the rest? Leaked DM’s, more leaked DM’s, followed by the unrelenting weight jokes. I am never happier to not have become a mega-successful basketball star than when I think about Zion Williamson. I get Snapchat memories from three years ago that send my body into horrific shock. I remember things I said at parties my freshman year, hell, my junior year, and I need to take a TUMS.
The only thing nobody gives a shit about is that Zion has become everything that was promised, and it isn’t one iota less enjoyable than it was when he was 17. Okay, maybe it’s a liiiitle less enjoyable than those abusive mixtapes.
My age-20 season was spent arguing Online that, actually, DeAndre Jordan wasn’t that bad. Zion’s was spent scoring 27 a game; the 6’6” nightmare shot 62.2% from 2, and 45% of his two point buckets were unassisted. At 20 years old and an inch taller than Spencer Dinwiddie, he had arrived as one of the NBA’s most unstoppable inside-the-arc scorers. His game was so satisfyingly simple, unique, and creative all at the same time.
Everything that was prophesied became true. He went left every time, but it didn’t matter because you and everything Holy can’t stop it. Not a smidgen of explosiveness is sacrificed in that colossal frame. And he doesn’t have tunnel vision just because him shooting the ball is your offense’s best option. The Pelicans started the “Point Zion” experiment at the end of January of the 2021 season. Over the next 30 games, through the end of March, New Orleans had the best offense in the league. Better than those Harden-led Nets. Zion was shooting 64%, handling the ball all the damn time, and averaging 28 and 5 assists. 20 years old, captaining the world’s most unstoppable offense for two months. The hype was the truth.
Zion is back, after missing last season with an injury, and being subjected to a billion different rumors and jokes, often combined into one. But I guess he’s not a fat-ass scheming his way to the Knicks. No, Zion isn’t as dominant as he was for that stretch in 2021, yet. He’s just averaging 23 and 4 assists on 58% shooting for the West’s two-seed.
The signs are there though, that World-Destroying Zion hasn’t gone anywhere. He just had 32 and 11 boards against the Spurs (I know) on Thanksgiving Eve. Look at this shit:
Look at the second clip in the video, where he spins between three defenders and finishes with an and-one. A minute of game-time later, he gets another lefty lay-up. The Pelicans announcers, talking to defender Devin Vassell, say “good luck” followed by a chuckle and “dead man walking.”
After the game, Zion had a post-game interview. When asked what Thanksgiving food he was most looking forward to, he declined to answer because no matter what he would say, he knew social media would clown him. No, really:
He’s right, and it’s sad! I don’t need to see an edit of Zion dunking a turkey leg into a bowl of gravy, but I’m damn sure I would’ve! It doesn’t matter if he had 32 and 11, all that matters is getting the same tired jokes off. At 22, we are both done with it. Only, I can opt out whenever I want. I choose not to Log Off, choosing not boost my spirit. Zion chooses not to stop making tons of money playing the game he loves. So he’s gonna keep being the butt of these jokes, and yeah, the 22-year-old millionaire living in New Orleans better make sure he doesn't flirt with the wrong girl, or else we’re all gonna hear about it.
Zion is the quintessential basketball player of the 2020’s. A phenom with unbelievable hype that lived up to it completely; a basketball player that takes his closest possible comparison, Charles Barkley, already one of the most unique players in NBA history, and adds 30 inches of vertical and 30 pounds of muscle to it. And, somehow, everybody already doesn’t care. Maybe it’s because he’s not averaging 50 points a game. More likely it’s because, despite all the rumors and jokes, he seems to just be a pleasant goof-ball with a nice smile. A boringly normal dude. Most likely, though, is that we got bored and are onto the next thing, unable to practice any patience. He sat out a season, and even if he hadn’t, we’ll never get anything like those mixtape years. What’s the point in waiting around for the entertainment value to regress.
Don’t worry though, Zion, we’re still within earshot, should the opportunity to make jokes about your weight present itself.