Especially disturbing in this rancid saga full of troubling relationships are the powerful ties between Sterling and the Los Angeles Branch of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.
The NBA got it right.
The swift punishment meted out to Donald Sterling, a lifetime ban from the league, is poetic justice. The longtime NBA franchise owner has proven himself grossly unfit to own or operate one of the nation’s marquee sporting brands.
But plenty of questions remain. Who empowered this bigot? What historical role has the NBA, Clippers’ employees, even the Los Angeles community itself, played in aiding and abetting a man who many apparently knew harbored deep and hateful sentiments regarding race.
Especially disturbing in this rancid saga full of troubling relationships are the powerful ties between Sterling and the Los Angeles branch of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.
In a word, disgusting.
How is it that a billionaire slum landlord with a long public history of racial insensitivity, and at least one high-profile discrimination lawsuit, managed to “pimp” a local branch of the NAACP to honor him with not one, but two, Lifetime Achievement Awards?
(The LA branch of the NAACP announced over the weekend that it had revoked the second lifetime award that Sterling was slated to receive next month).
How was an 80-year-old billionaire, who quietly despised African-Americans and clearly considers them inferior, able to purchase plausible cover from the nation’s oldest civil rights organization?
In hindsight, it now seems easy.
He paid for his street credibility.
Sterling used cold hard cash (reportedly about $45,000 over the course of five years) to mask the heart of a racist and to purchase deniable plausibility from his detractors. So say what you want about Sterling – and it’s probably true – but there were a lot of people, including African-Americans, who were complicit and enabling of his abhorrent behavior because he paid them to look the other way or to simply ignore him.
And that’s part of what makes the conversation about the proper response to Sterling’s racist comments caught on tape so difficult and so complex to navigate.
None of his behavior was carried out in a vacuum. Other than the secretly recorded tapes, where Sterling is heard disparaging African-Americans and ordering his mixed-race girlfriend not to photograph herself with blacks or to bring them to his games, nothing about Sterling’s behavior apparently was a secret to those who knew him, worked for him or honored him.
So now the degree of the outrage seems to stem, in large part, from embarrassment as much as the realization that one man’s secretly recorded ramblings had dangerously hijacked the NBA season at its most prominent moment.
Which leads to another question that many players and fans of the game still wrestle with. What is a proper statement to express continuing disappointment and anger that Sterling’s brand of racism might still pervade the game?
It’s not an easy call.
NBA Commissioner Adam Silver banned Sterling for life from the NBA, fined him the maximum $2.5 million and said he would work with the NBA board of governors to force Sterling to sell the team.
That may be enough to salvage this playoff season and to squash the mounting anger felt by players and fans alike. Supporters of the Association can only hope that is the case.
For years, Sterling gave tickets to poor black kids to attend Clippers games. He gave money to the local branch of the NAACP and purchased their coveted awards. It was all to mask a certain kind of loathing.
After all, it’s easy to be an arrogant racist when the NAACP says you’re a great guy. The NBA was right to finally bring this farce to an abrupt halt.
But will the amputation of Donald Sterling be enough?
And what, if anything, has this ridiculous imbroglio taught us about the continuing complication of race in America?