The Redeem Team

"LeBron is the truth! Bart, did you get a chance to watch the gold medal game?" Warrick always hoped that I'd find my love for basketball again. That was the only thing we had in common growing up. Once our moms realized that their "man" had another young child, they figured it didn't make sense keeping us apart because our dad was a cheat.

We didn't have much in common but basketball, so we'd play and play all day long. There was a gym not too far from my house in Bloomfield and there was a church around the corner from Warrick's house on Southfield and Fenkell. The church allowed all of the neighborhood kids to play at the gym. There was always something going on in the church like bible study or some type of marriage counseling so we took advantage.

Now we are adults without anything in common, but our old man, Abe. Abram Gray is our dad and he demands that we spend Sundays after church with him. Sometimes we eat breakfast, sometimes lunch, sometimes we have a beer, sometimes many beers. But we are always in front of a television watching sports. And slowly but surely, I'm starting to get used to this Sunday get-together: Even though all we do is argue.

"LeBron James is the best player ever," Warrick attempted to start our first argument of the day. "The Redeem Team. LeBron and the other guys have brought the gold back for the second time in the last two Olympics."
"Redeem team?" My dad turned his nose up at both of us (Even though I didn't say anything). "The real redeem team was Tommie Smith and John Carlos...the gold and bronze medal winners of the 200 meter race in 1968."
"What did they do?" Warrick asked.
"Well son, 1968 was during the time of the civil rights movement"
"Oh, like Martin Luther King?"
"Just be quiet and listen. Us black folks were used to America asking us to do things to represent our country like fighting in wars and running in the Olympics even though we were treated like second-class citizens at home. Because of the movement that was going on there were grumblings that the blacks would boycott the games, because even though laws were starting to change, the white people still looked down on us and things weren't completely even. When Tommie and John stood on the podium for the medal ceremony, they both raised fists in the air with black gloves on: Representing black power and unity."
"I'm sure that didn't go over real well, huh?" My attention was undivided.
"There were suspended by their team and kicked out of Olympic Village, where all of the Olympians stayed during the games. Their demonstration had already made headlines all over the world and it gave us back home so much pride. Even the Australian silver medalist participated by wearing an Olympic Project for Human Rights badge to the ceremony. Right is right and wrong is wrong and the entire world knew how hypocritical America was being."

"And us black people still fighting for our rights," Warrick added. We ain't gon' never be truly free in this country. They sent me to jail for a crime I didn't commit and then when I get home they tell me I can't vote for my president. What type of shit is that? They wouldn't let me take phone calls, get a job, or have any rec time in there."
"That was because of your poor behavior," I couldn't stand listening anymore. "You went in there acting a fool!"
"Bro, you don't know how it is in there." His tone was serious. "There's no such thing as good behavior when you first go in. They treat you like an animal: Degrading you, telling you that you'll never amount to anything. And the ones that did get to leave, they were telling them 'Oh, you'll be back.' And those were the guards!"
He started to tear up, "You don't come out of there the same as you went in," his voiced trailed off. "You're never the same."

While my half-brother spent four years in prison, I was getting first bachelors degree in leadership development. While he spend the next 3 years reporting to his parole officer and peeing in a cup, I was finishing up my MBA and marrying my first wife. When I was caught cheating she divorced me and took over my 3 pizza and chicken restaurants. I guess like father, like son.