|
|
|
|
 |
about j. cross |
 |
| |
J. Cross was born and raised Southern, where he was, at one time, a journalist in Mississippi. He hung out in Pennsylvania for a bit, and now, he makes his home in St. Louis, Missouri. Through his essays, Cross seeks to explore meanings and to somehow make a difference that will make a difference. |
|
|
|
| T-Mac's Blues |
Imagine if T-Mac knew how to sing the blues.
I said, imagine if Tracy McGrady sang the blues.
If he could, I tell ya', that cat wouldn't never lose. |
| I know. I know. It's hard to feel sorry for multi-millionaires. Hard to feel bad for dudes with so much money and honey. Like, even though T-Mac's team was eliminated from the playoffs, he'll be ok. In terms of the house he lives in, the checks he banks, the car he drives, all that jazz, T-Mac'll be just fine. So we don't have to cry for him. But, then there is something else. |
| For now, for the sake of argument, suspend your thoughts (and envy) of those cats' with mad loot. For now, just think of T-Mac as the kind of dude that puts in hard work but can't never get a raise. The kind of dude that for some reason or another just gets held back. The kind of dude that might sing something like: |
Long as I can remember, I been working overtime,
Yeah, long as I can remember, I been working overtime
But I ain't got no raise, cant got no extra dime. |
| Of course I recognize that for our generation of b-ball players, the dominant soundtrack is hip hop. Not the blues. But listen: what I'm making right now is what those professional counselors call "a strategic intervention." (that's kinda like what you and I would call a "break beat.") You see, hip hop isn't old and rusty enough, ain't been bruised enough to
speak to the hard times a cat like T-Mac having out there in the game. |
| So let's chill on the hip hop tip for two seconds and apply a blues ethos to T-Mac. The blues, you know, would really let us put McGrady's hard times into context. You'd need that blues form cause it's less about the bling-bling of Manhattan and more about the muddy waters of Mississippi. The blues speaks more directly to those "better-luck-next-time black man" life lessons
that T-Mac's getting every year in the playoffs. |
No matter what I do, Mr. Hard Times just wont go away.
No matter what I do y'all, Mister Hard Times wont go away.
I out ran him once, but then his cousin Tough Luck was coming my way. |
| You see what I'm saying. That laugh-to-keep-from-crying aura that defines the blues might be the thing T-Mac needs during the off-season as he's thinking about one more of those "close-but-not-close-enough" playoff victories. Another big time let-down. He could get together with Allen Iverson and Jason Kidd and Vince Carter and certainly Grant Hill. Them cats and the
blues would be so good together. |
| The blues would sit'em down and say "listen lil brothers, losing ain't some bad moment stone; it's a fact of life hill. Get over it." The blues would be telling'em, "you think you got it bad young bloods. Naaah. If I had yo worse day, I'd swear I was living a breezy dream. If I had yo worse day, I'd thank God for letting me live so good." |
| Those cats would listen, laugh, and respond to blues' call: |
Unh-hunh, it ain't so good, but then it ain't so bad.
It ain't so good right now, but it ain't so bad.
We gon take a lesson from the blues and work through feelin' sad. |
| Yeah, they'd have a good ol time, them b-ball cats and the blues. They'd be wringing their hands tightly around pain. They'd get Ralph Ellison-like, "squeezing…a near-tragic, near-comic lyricism" from their experiences. That's what they'd do. And then perhaps… |
you and I could take up T-Mac's Blues.
yeah, you and me, would join in T-Mac's Blues
If we did, I tell ya', we wouldn't never lose. |
| |
in the struggle, peace...
J Cross |
|
|
