The latest Ja Morant contretemps has been batted around so much by sports pundits that it’s almost old news. The Grizzlies’ star point guard has been involved in a troubling series of incidents in the past year, including a near-fight with a teenage kid at his house, threatening a sales clerk at a mall, an incident with a laser beam being pointed at an opposing player’s vehicle, and the now-infamous Denver strip club lap dance/gun-waving scenario that got him sent to counseling and suspended for eight games by the NBA. Finally, there was the recent Instagram Live clip that showed Morant bouncing to hip-hop with a friend in a car and briefly flashing a gun. Morant issued a statement saying that he took “full accountability” for his actions.
As I write this, Morant’s fate with the NBA is in limbo, with most predicting a multi-game suspension at the beginning of next season. Is that a fair ruling, given that GOP legislators and politicians all over the country routinely run ads brandishing guns to demonstrate their love of the ammo-sexual culture? Or given that Kid Rock and other culture-war morons are now joyfully shooting cases of cross-dressing beer? Not really.
Morant did nothing illegal in that IG clip. He lives in a state where anyone can buy a gun and wear it into the nearest Arby’s — or wave it around in his car while listening to hip-hop. He lives in a state where Johnny Cash sang that he “shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.” This incident isn’t troubling to the NBA because it’s illegal. It’s troubling because what Morant did is contrary to the image the league wants to present, which does not include the gangsta rap culture of drugs, strip clubs, gang fights, and hookers.
So maybe the Memphis Grizzlies front office ought to do some soul-searching of its own on this subject. I’m referring to the team’s embrace of the gangsta rap song, “Whoop That Trick” — which it uses as its anthem when the Grizzlies are closing out a win at home. It’s an inclusive, joyous scene, as kids, adults, and senior citizens — Black, white, and brown — chant those inspirational words about whooping someone in a strip club.
You may recall that the song was written by Memphis rapper Al Kapone for director Craig Brewer’s 2005 film, Hustle & Flow, which chronicled the rise of a Memphis pimp/would-be rapper named DJay, played by Terrence Howard. There’s a scene in the film where DJay is sitting in a studio pondering his potential hit, which he’s calling “Beat That Bitch.” His associate wisely suggests that the song wouldn’t receive much radio play, so they change the name to “Whoop That Trick.” The lyrics are still about going into a strip club and beating someone. Man or woman? Google the lyrics and decide. (And check out the words to “Fresh Prince of Utah,” another hip-hop song that became an unofficial victory anthem with its line, “It’s a parade inside my city …”)
On Twitter, when I said that “Whoop That Trick” was about a pimp beating one of his girls, many were quick to assure me that the song was “actually” about DJay whooping up on a dead-beat john and was therefore an inspirational Memphis fight song about overcoming obstacles.
So, I guess when the L.A. Johns whooped the Memphis Pimps in the playoffs last month, that was hella embarrassing, right?
The Grizzlies adopted a variation of the song (“Whoop That Clip”) during a playoff series during the team’s Grit ’n Grind era. But that was a team with a notable mean streak. Nobody messed with Z-Bo or Tony Allen. The current Grizzlies roster, with the possible exception of Canadian performance-villain Dillon Brooks, looks about as dangerous as a bunch of young Rotarians. The New Zealand center raises sheep. Brandon Clarke (another Canadian) talks like a surfer. Morant acts tough, but at his size, he’s not scaring anyone.
I get that “Whoop That Trick” is performative and part of the team’s historic ethos, but it glorifies a dead-end culture that suckers in way too many of our city’s kids — including our All-Star point guard. So maybe it’s time for everyone — from the top of the organization down to its soon-to-be-disciplined star — to do some image reassessment.