I Hear They Call You Chuck
This is an open letter to the Charles Barkley I never knew. I don’t believe you’ll ever read this but I had to get it off my chest.
Dear Charles,
There’s news that the Sixers are unveiling a statue of you in the Legends Walk section of their Camden practice facility on September 13th, you’re probably very happy about this. You’ve done so much in your career, eleven-time all-star, eleven-time all-NBA, an Olympic gold medal, two MVP awards, and a place in the NBA Hall of Fame, you’re one of the greatest to ever play the game…
…so why doesn’t it feel like it?
Who is Charles Barkley, is he still the same person, what happened in these past 19 years since you retired, has someone taken your place, or is it me, did I ever really know you?
I was born in April 1996, the year of the best NBA Draft ever, don’t even @ me. Son of a pool man and a hairdresser, I grew up in a suburban household with two older sisters and a younger brother. Basketball was in my blood, and by that, I mean I was terrible at it, averaging one to two shots… a season. But that didn’t stop me, I persisted this was the one thing I worked at, even though I never reached the heights I set for myself I never stopped climbing. Kind of like you Charles, you accomplished so much in your career, yet never tasted the sweet milk of an NBA Championship. Maybe that’s why I don’t remember you? You were never a champion. No! There has to be another reason.
Being born in 1996, you were already a ten-time all-star you weren’t long for the NBA, you were only four years away from retirement. In April of 96, you were in your fourth and final year with Phoenix states away from me a newly born baby, the playoffs started the very next day, you posted 26pts and 12reb in a game one loss to David Robinson’s Spurs. You didn’t win that series, you probably remember that. Was the fact that my baby brain wasn’t capable of holding the memory of you getting your ass kicked by the admiral, the reason you don’t stand out in my mind? No there has to be more, I eventually grew up and even though I wasn’t there I still to this day remember and love Hakeem Olajuwon and his dreamy shakes.
The closest thing to a memory of your playing career I have is your acting performance in 1996’s Space Jam, not to be confused with LeBron’s 2020 Space Jam 2 “Double the Jam”, as (man who could once play basketball but can no longer play basketball because of aliens). This was the only footage of you I had access to, there were no hoop mixtape or house of highlights yet to see bodacious dunks and savory swishes. The mediums on which I consumed basketball were limited, don’t blame me blame the times, blame the technology. No, Blame yourself!
I learned the most about the NBA through
video games, NBA Street, NBA 2K and NBA Live were the three best basketball video games of my childhood, in that order. playing these games helped me fall in love with this sport. But you never let them use your likeness for these games, did you? Was it because you didn’t agree with the fact that the NBPA wasn’t receiving residuals from the games using your likeness or was it really because you were jealous? In 1993 you came out with your own basketball video game “Barkley Shut Up and Jam!” for the Sega Genesis. (not to be confused with Laura Ingrams “Shut up and dribble” for the NES) So nobody bought your bad video game, you must have been pissed. The repercussions of your petty actions resulted in me “A Basketball Fan” not knowing the real you. Not getting a chance to sit down with the Charles Barkley of his prime and experience what it felt like to dominate the game as the round mound of rebound.
All I get is the NBA on TNT you, barely coherent, constantly bullied by the big Irish meme man. Forever to be photoshopped by the TNT interns, and made a joke of by SNL Keenan Thompson.
You were dominant
You were special
You were one of the greats
I just wish I knew him.
P.S. Oh yeah, enjoy the statue.
