Sports, for many people, are life. They are also an interesting microcosm of a larger American society: from Jackie Robinson’s breaking down baseball’s racial barriers to Muhammed Ali’s divisive tirades against American militarism (as particularly exemplified in Vietnam). Fast-forward to 2012 and we have a new focal point for conversation: Linsanity.
For those who are unfamiliar with Jeremy Lin, he is the current point guard for the New York Knicks.
After ending an award studded high school basketball career in California, he was offered no scholarships at the collegiate level. He went on to play for Harvard University breaking records while posting a 3.1 GPA.
Despite his tremendous success at both levels of play, Lin still went undrafted in the 2010 NBA draft. After getting bumped around at various gigs, he got a surprising opportunity to play for the Knicks after their depth chart was decimated and desperate.
Lin made the most of his shot. While starting, he led the Knicks to a shocking turn around, posting a 9-3 record in his 12 starts before the All-Star Break.
Of course, the most charged detail about Jeremy Lin, while he was born in Los Angeles, was that his parents emigrated from Taiwan. Lin’s Asian American descent and being skilled in basketball isn’t exactly a standard narrative we are accustomed to.
A Feb. 21 CNN article went further saying, “American culture tells us, in short, that Lin shouldn’t exist. Every time he drives to the basket, he upends stereotypes of Asians as short, weak and nerdy. Every time he talks to the media, he dispels the idea that all Asian-Americans are like foreigners speaking broken English.”
Naturally, questions arise concerning the humble Harvard grad: Is Linsanity simply race driven? Was Jeremy Lin’s basketball skill overlooked because of his being an Asian American? Is Lin’s success just a fluke?
I think we need to recognize the flagrant stereotyping. To some degree, Jeremy Lin didn’t get the shots he deserved in basketball because he is an Asian American. If we should value any perspective on this matter, it should be one of the greatest players in the NBA of all time: Kobe Bryant.
According to ESPN on Feb. 11, after Lin torched Bryant’s team for 38 points in a Lakers loss, the Black Mamba simply opined, “It just means that we probably haven’t been paying attention. Players playing that well don’t usually come out of nowhere. It seems like they come out of nowhere, but if you can go back and take a look, his skill level was probably there from the beginning. It probably just went unnoticed.”
At the same time, no matter how Linsane one is, there are, and have been, legitimate concerns with the point guard’s play. A Time article from Feb. 28 objectively asserts, “Lin, with the Knicks, has been turnover-prone and his old coaches have said his shooting wasn’t as good then as it is now.
When Lin threw errant passes and missed shots it would’ve been natural … to wonder if perhaps he did not belong in the NBA.”
Jeremy Lin is not Derrick Rose, at least not yet. That doesn’t mean, however, that he doesn’t provide a powerful testament to hard work and perseverance, and more over, a role model for young aspiring Asian American basketball players.
I am Asian American and could never see myself as a basketball player. For me that inability likely has more to do with my being entirely too short.
However, given that many other Asian Americans likely feel the same way, Jeremy Lin is a fresh wind knocking over walls of stereotypes because, for now at least, all he does is Lin.
