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Challenging Bruce Ratner’s Brooklyn Atlantic Yards project
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Liars In Arms
Goodness, the Nets act more like their owner every day.
Tonight it's Game Five of New Jersey's first-round series against Toronto. The Raptors are this season's Atlantic Division champs, which is a little like designating a track on a Michael Bolton live album the best song on the CD.
The Nets are up 3-1. With a win tonight they move on to the second round. More playoff money owner Bruce Ratner can put toward his Atlantic Yards superblock in Brooklyn.
Before Game Three, the Nets had announced that their playmaker Jason Kidd, clearly the team's engine to Vince Carter's blinged-out platinum rims, was a "game-time decision" -- the sports world's way of saying Kidd might or might not play, might or might not be hurt. In the playoffs, this is a way to keep the other team guessing.
Kidd played, and shot the lights out. Same with Game Four. Kidd played great. The Nets played great. They destroyed the Raptors, and tonight could be the end of Toronto's season.
Sam Mitchell, the Raptors' coach, made waves when he claimed Kidd was lying about his injuries. Nobody whose knees are that bad, Mitchell claimed, could play like Kidd in Games Three and Four.
Mitchell was right. In fact, the Nets had carried on like it would have been a glorious, deific miracle for Kidd to take the floor in Game Three. A legend would have to be born. A brilliant flash of explosive, manly heroism.
It would be a Willis Reed moment.
Mitchell's pulled back some on his comments, anxious to a) not further inflame Kidd, b) not elicit a call from the commissioner's office, and c) not want to look like a sore loser.
But FFFP isn't afraid of any of those things.
Ratner and Kidd and the pod they're peas in
The Nets and Kidd lied. Lied for hype. Lied to create drama and sympathy where none exist.
Just like their boss, Bruce Ratner.
This Nets team is a lot like their owner.
They're not that good. They're kinda clunky and have allocated too much of their budget to the wrong things. They hemorrhage money. They thrive on other peoples' funding. They sucker the locals into supporting them. They play in an easy division. Their competition is too scared, intimidated or incompetent to challenge their mediocrity. They have a press corps that laps up everything they say and stand for.
And most of all, they lie.
Kidd lied about his knee, or the team lied on Kidd's behalf. It's the same m.o. as Ratner, who pursuing his Atlantic Yards development has lied about the number of construction and permanent jobs, affordable housing units, taxpayers' contributions, benefits to the community, and the timetable for his hoped-for skyscraper city to be completed.
Lies sucker people in, people who are most likely to be victimized by the lie. In the case of Kidd's lie, it's the fans, who expect one thing and are sold another.
When destroying the opposition just isn't enough
The Nets are no stranger to manufacturing fake drama. There's a reason they have a promotion called "Team Hype" clowing around their home venue. This is a team that has pumped pre-recorded crowd noise into their half-empty arena. A team that promotes Jay-Z as a full-fledged owner although their mascot rapper purchased less than one-percent of the team. A team whose NASCAR promotional guy Brett Yormark has visualized Don Imus' despicable comments in the form of the Nets Dancers, and who went on local sports talk radio to lie through his teeth about the Nets' Opening Night attendance figures.
For the Nets and Bruce Ratner, it's not enough to rip people off -- they have to create a false, commodified drama.
Nets fans: you are aware your team is leaving...
By the way, it is utterly inconceivable to us how Jersey-based Nets fans are still Nets fans. Listen, and listen closely, Nets Nation: Bruce Ratner doesn't care about you. He's doing everything possible to take your team away. He's losing $30 million a year on the team, and only wants your fanny in his seats so he doesn't lose more. He tosses trinkets your way in hopes you won't wise up to him.
You, Jersey-based Nets fans, are simply a footbridge for Ratner's hoped-for move to Brooklyn. You know what happens to footbridges -- they get walked on by those who can afford the toll.
My pinky! OWWWWW!!!
Now we have Kidd and the Nets lying about Kidd's condition. Sam Mitchell doth protest too much, says Kidd. I'm really hurt, Kidd insists.
Okay, then. Would Bill Russell or Jim Brown have allowed their team to announce they were hurt, might not play, if the injury was so slight as to permit those stellar Games Three and Four performances?
No. That's not how Russell and Brown operated. But it's exactly how Ratner operates. Even though he's filthy rich, and Forest City Ratner is a subsidiary of one of the nation's most powerful real-estate empires, Ratner makes mountains out of his molehill tribulations. Building Atlantic Yards is so expensive! The Katrina Effect is driving up construction costs! The communities trying to stop me are impacting my bottom line! Norman Oder and Mike Lupica don't write nice things about me! Obeying the law is expensive! Listening to people I'm hurting just slows me down!
Atomic Balm...the fiscal kind
When it comes to the Nets, Ratner entices gullible fans to spread fiscal salves on the team. With Atlantic Yards, it's stones-deficient politicians and multi-nationals who ride to the rescue. Markowitz, Pataki, Bloomberg, Schumer, Quinn, Doctoroff, Gargano and Spitzer have repeatedly reached into your pockets to bail out their good friend Bruce -- $2 billion worth. Slavery/Apartheid/Nazi-complicit Barclays Bank is ponying up $400 million for the same thing, and to remind Black Brooklyn that they will soon own you again, one loan, ATM-fee and red-lined district at a time.
When Ratner first bought the Nets, his careless ownership casued Kidd to be feisty, suspicious and angry. Maybe he was young enough, still had enough NBA seasons left in those famously creeky knees. Now, Kidd is compliant, a good young man, anxious to play the role of Bruce's favorite player.
Vince, Jason...THIS is soul
Back in the 1960s and '70s, Muhammed Ali, Curt Flood, Tommie Smith and John Carlos, Dick Allen, Johnny Sample, Harry Carson, Dr. Harry Edwards, Bill Russell, Jim Brown and others stood up to power. They didn't have guaranteed contracts, millions in the bank, SUVs with spinning gold rims, sycophantic posses, endorsements, and unions looking after every contractual detail.
They simply had their faith in the fight for justice.
Today, out at the Meadowlands, that vibe's no where to be found. Instead, Jason Kidd and Vince Carter kowtow to a guy like Ratner, who's never had any use for Black people, hoops stars and rappers until he needed them to get a real-estate deal done in Brooklyn.
Kidd and Carter love Ratner so much that they'll lie for his agenda, willing hypsters for an operation that whispers sweet nothings in the Black community's ears all the while keeping it at arm's length. If this project goes forward, that's what the community will be left with...nothings of the most pungent nature.
This week it's Jason Kidd's lies, exagerations and obfuscations.
He's learned sitting on the knees of a master.
See the Archives for more...
Tonight it's Game Five of New Jersey's first-round series against Toronto. The Raptors are this season's Atlantic Division champs, which is a little like designating a track on a Michael Bolton live album the best song on the CD.
The Nets are up 3-1. With a win tonight they move on to the second round. More playoff money owner Bruce Ratner can put toward his Atlantic Yards superblock in Brooklyn.
Before Game Three, the Nets had announced that their playmaker Jason Kidd, clearly the team's engine to Vince Carter's blinged-out platinum rims, was a "game-time decision" -- the sports world's way of saying Kidd might or might not play, might or might not be hurt. In the playoffs, this is a way to keep the other team guessing.
Kidd played, and shot the lights out. Same with Game Four. Kidd played great. The Nets played great. They destroyed the Raptors, and tonight could be the end of Toronto's season.
Sam Mitchell, the Raptors' coach, made waves when he claimed Kidd was lying about his injuries. Nobody whose knees are that bad, Mitchell claimed, could play like Kidd in Games Three and Four.
Mitchell was right. In fact, the Nets had carried on like it would have been a glorious, deific miracle for Kidd to take the floor in Game Three. A legend would have to be born. A brilliant flash of explosive, manly heroism.
It would be a Willis Reed moment.
Mitchell's pulled back some on his comments, anxious to a) not further inflame Kidd, b) not elicit a call from the commissioner's office, and c) not want to look like a sore loser.
But FFFP isn't afraid of any of those things.
Ratner and Kidd and the pod they're peas in
The Nets and Kidd lied. Lied for hype. Lied to create drama and sympathy where none exist.
Just like their boss, Bruce Ratner.
This Nets team is a lot like their owner.
They're not that good. They're kinda clunky and have allocated too much of their budget to the wrong things. They hemorrhage money. They thrive on other peoples' funding. They sucker the locals into supporting them. They play in an easy division. Their competition is too scared, intimidated or incompetent to challenge their mediocrity. They have a press corps that laps up everything they say and stand for.
And most of all, they lie.
Kidd lied about his knee, or the team lied on Kidd's behalf. It's the same m.o. as Ratner, who pursuing his Atlantic Yards development has lied about the number of construction and permanent jobs, affordable housing units, taxpayers' contributions, benefits to the community, and the timetable for his hoped-for skyscraper city to be completed.
Lies sucker people in, people who are most likely to be victimized by the lie. In the case of Kidd's lie, it's the fans, who expect one thing and are sold another.
When destroying the opposition just isn't enough
The Nets are no stranger to manufacturing fake drama. There's a reason they have a promotion called "Team Hype" clowing around their home venue. This is a team that has pumped pre-recorded crowd noise into their half-empty arena. A team that promotes Jay-Z as a full-fledged owner although their mascot rapper purchased less than one-percent of the team. A team whose NASCAR promotional guy Brett Yormark has visualized Don Imus' despicable comments in the form of the Nets Dancers, and who went on local sports talk radio to lie through his teeth about the Nets' Opening Night attendance figures.
For the Nets and Bruce Ratner, it's not enough to rip people off -- they have to create a false, commodified drama.
Nets fans: you are aware your team is leaving...
By the way, it is utterly inconceivable to us how Jersey-based Nets fans are still Nets fans. Listen, and listen closely, Nets Nation: Bruce Ratner doesn't care about you. He's doing everything possible to take your team away. He's losing $30 million a year on the team, and only wants your fanny in his seats so he doesn't lose more. He tosses trinkets your way in hopes you won't wise up to him.
You, Jersey-based Nets fans, are simply a footbridge for Ratner's hoped-for move to Brooklyn. You know what happens to footbridges -- they get walked on by those who can afford the toll.
My pinky! OWWWWW!!!
Now we have Kidd and the Nets lying about Kidd's condition. Sam Mitchell doth protest too much, says Kidd. I'm really hurt, Kidd insists.
Okay, then. Would Bill Russell or Jim Brown have allowed their team to announce they were hurt, might not play, if the injury was so slight as to permit those stellar Games Three and Four performances?
No. That's not how Russell and Brown operated. But it's exactly how Ratner operates. Even though he's filthy rich, and Forest City Ratner is a subsidiary of one of the nation's most powerful real-estate empires, Ratner makes mountains out of his molehill tribulations. Building Atlantic Yards is so expensive! The Katrina Effect is driving up construction costs! The communities trying to stop me are impacting my bottom line! Norman Oder and Mike Lupica don't write nice things about me! Obeying the law is expensive! Listening to people I'm hurting just slows me down!
Atomic Balm...the fiscal kind
When it comes to the Nets, Ratner entices gullible fans to spread fiscal salves on the team. With Atlantic Yards, it's stones-deficient politicians and multi-nationals who ride to the rescue. Markowitz, Pataki, Bloomberg, Schumer, Quinn, Doctoroff, Gargano and Spitzer have repeatedly reached into your pockets to bail out their good friend Bruce -- $2 billion worth. Slavery/Apartheid/Nazi-complicit Barclays Bank is ponying up $400 million for the same thing, and to remind Black Brooklyn that they will soon own you again, one loan, ATM-fee and red-lined district at a time.
When Ratner first bought the Nets, his careless ownership casued Kidd to be feisty, suspicious and angry. Maybe he was young enough, still had enough NBA seasons left in those famously creeky knees. Now, Kidd is compliant, a good young man, anxious to play the role of Bruce's favorite player.
Vince, Jason...THIS is soul
Back in the 1960s and '70s, Muhammed Ali, Curt Flood, Tommie Smith and John Carlos, Dick Allen, Johnny Sample, Harry Carson, Dr. Harry Edwards, Bill Russell, Jim Brown and others stood up to power. They didn't have guaranteed contracts, millions in the bank, SUVs with spinning gold rims, sycophantic posses, endorsements, and unions looking after every contractual detail.
They simply had their faith in the fight for justice.
Today, out at the Meadowlands, that vibe's no where to be found. Instead, Jason Kidd and Vince Carter kowtow to a guy like Ratner, who's never had any use for Black people, hoops stars and rappers until he needed them to get a real-estate deal done in Brooklyn.
Kidd and Carter love Ratner so much that they'll lie for his agenda, willing hypsters for an operation that whispers sweet nothings in the Black community's ears all the while keeping it at arm's length. If this project goes forward, that's what the community will be left with...nothings of the most pungent nature.
This week it's Jason Kidd's lies, exagerations and obfuscations.
He's learned sitting on the knees of a master.
