Nick Piccone
Taffy Brodesser-Akner knows way more than we do about Ben Simmons. She interviewed him for a piece that appears in the June 27th issue of ESPN The Magazine’s which highlights the life of Muhammad Ali. And we got a glimpse behind Ben Simmons the person that we haven’t seen yet. Here’s a few excerpts in the fascinating piece:
He’s surrounded by his people — Fara Leff, the COO of Klutch Sports Group, his agency; his older sister, Emily Bush; his older brother, Sean Tribe; his best friend, Cisco Silva.
Ben is at home in this circle. Around journalists, he’s more than a little reticent after constant attention (and scrutiny) during his short-lived career at LSU. “He was a media darling for the first six months,” Emily says, “and then some things were written about him that were horrible.” There were the stories wondering about his shooting ability, wondering if he’s overhyped, making fun of his academic record at LSU. Predictable stuff. But when they start talking about his character when they’ve never met him? And they want to know if his mental game is ready, if he can handle the pressures of the NBA? That’s unacceptable to Emily. Of course he can, she says. Just talk to him and you’ll see how prepared he is. He knew there would be pressure. He didn’t just train for basketball all those years; he trained for this too, all of this that comes with it.
It’s not that he hates the media, Ben tells me later; he’s just careful: “I just try and say the right things. Well, I say how I feel but in the right way. I won’t say anything crazy just because — if I’m thinking something, I’ll say it, but I won’t say it to where it’s too out there.”
…
He’s far from alone now, waiting at the TV studio. And he’s still bored. Finally, he is called in, asked to put on a military helmet — by the time Simmons enters, the other guys have taken cars and boats and planes, so difficult is travel during an alien invasion — and reads his line. But the line doesn’t work. Simmons, who is Australian, has been living in the States since he was a sophomore in high school. Most of his accent is gone, but some words, like draft, he still says as drahhhft. It was disconcerting for a one-liner. Also, the “man” didn’t really come off so clean. Eventually, Simmons’ line is adjusted to “How late are we?” all while he did that neat ball-spinning trick on his finger. None of this was in the script, but Ben goes along.
Sure it’s boring. But Ben knows this is happening only because he’s the best basketball player in the draft, and that’s been his goal since he can’t even tell you when — from when he watched his father retire from professional basketball in Australia, from when he played against 12-year-olds in the gym when he was just 7, from when he moved to the States from Australia to play at Montverde Academy as a high school sophomore so he could become the Everything Player of the Year, get noticed, get some sponsorships, get drafted.
When Chris Broussard interviews him for SportsCenter the next day and asks how long he’s been waiting for this day, Ben’s answer is swift: “Since I was 7 years old.” He doesn’t take his media duties or the fan weirdness as a burden, although, yes, he’d rather be playing basketball. He knows this is part of NBA superstardom, and NBA superstardom was always the plan. And my god are things going according to plan.
Except, of course, when they aren’t.
Brodesser-Akner asked Simmons about his issues academically, but he didn’t waver. Simmons said it was “all part of the plan” to get to the NBA and not worry about academics.
But he’s also learning — just like we all learn at 19, whether we were exceptional or not — that just because you want something doesn’t mean you get it. The more people line up for his autograph, the more sponsorship interest rolls in, the more closely people look at him, the more he actually loses control of the conversation. The closer they look at his life, the more questions they have, like why he seemed so checked out at times during LSU games, or why he was benched reportedly for academic issues.
He has answers. He tells me that he once took a test for EQ — emotional quotient — and that his headmaster at Montverde always told him, “It’s not about your IQ but your EQ.” His EQ score “was up there,” so he decided not to worry too much. And, well, he decided not to go to class either. At LSU, opposing-team fans would chant “GPA!” at Ben. “People just don’t understand,” he says. “I mean, if you could leave and go to the NBA, you would too.” And that’s probably true. What’s truer: There isn’t any academic probation in the NBA.
This was all part of the plan, he tells me. After all, he landed at LSU because of family, at least in the form of former LSU assistant coach David Patrick, who, uh, just happens to be Simmons’ godfather. No regrets, he tells me. But it is a rare thing to be a top draft pick who didn’t make it to the NCAA tournament, and these questions will only get louder.
It’s his sense of control that got him here. And now that’s over. You can buy two hamsas; you can buy 10 of them. And a woman can bless each one, she can bless each one twice and still you’d have to know you are losing control of your destiny. Hell, he’s up for the drahhhft! You put yourself on a career path that requires its most successful players to give up all control over where they even live.
So this is Ben Simmons’ world and we’re just living in it. And, right now, I’m happy to be a part of that world.
Simmons isn’t above being questioned about how he handled his college career. Overall, I’m not too fond of kids putting a professional lifestyle ahead of education. However, it makes sense when they have immense talent like Simmons possesses. Many professional players can get by without a higher education. But many also can’t. Hopefully Simmons is able to conquer that stereotype, and not just for us or the Sixers. But for himself, too.