The Benson Blog: Real Talk With Rod
I want to thank everyone who contributed to my AMA in the Haas Pavilion message board. I’m glad I did it, because frankly, I didn’t realize how many people have the exact same set of questions. Nearly everyone mentioned that it was nice to see a former player get involved. Less people asked why I’m essentially the only player from my days who is involved in the program at all, even if it’s via Bear Insider. I had a moment of clarity on this last night, and decided to share today. We’re gonna get vulnerable (and long) for blog #2.
A few days ago, I got an email from Cal Athletics. It was seeking donations for the new Excellence Initiative. Before I clicked on the email, I could see the subject line and preview and concluded it was like hundreds of emails I’ve gotten from Cal throughout the years asking for money. Sometimes I felt like I had it to give, other times (probably more times), I not only didn’t have anything to give, but I asked myself why the hell would I give in the first place? At this moment, I know I’m not in a “giving” position, so I was prepared to open and kindly reject the usual ask.
When I opened the email, I spit out my metaphorical coffee. I had never seen this level of ask before. The lowest ask was shocking, the highest ask felt unreal. My first thought was if the program gets that kind of money, they can’t lose! That level of investment is what the best programs around the country have, and that’s what it’s going to take. Not only the money but the energy commitment as well. If someone is giving that much, better believe they’re going to be invested (pun intended).
I then thought about how that money might be spent. Not questioning it, because I assume the program knows where that money is most needed. It was more speculation based on what I know about the program. It could go directly to NIL, boosting our status with recruits across the country. It could go towards upgrading stuff. Lockers. Gear. The arena. Maybe that money could be used to hire specialists, throw events for alumni, or do big media buys. Man, it would be cool to see some of the same locker room stuff you see at schools like Texas. People used to fight for that tiny seat at the top of the south side of Haas. I was told that during my recruiting trip, and it turned out to be true. This is the type of money that achieves that. I’m in.
I’m going to do this from time to time so that it’s clear: I LOVE THAT FOR US. The dollars. The numbers. All of it. That is not in question. Keep it rolling.
Then I stopped and asked myself a question: We spend so much time trying to buy players, what are we trying to sell them, really? Are we also selling them on what was sold to me? Are we selling them a job at a local place? An experience like nowhere else? A robust alumni network in the 10th largest media market in the country?
Last summer, I did a reality dating show. For real. It was called “After Happily Ever After.” It was not good. The promise of beautiful ladies and an island was met with the reality of some very unsavory people and summer in Lexington, Kentucky. While we weren’t filming, we could take grocery runs. I’d be in the local Walmart shopping, and there would be a dozen or so other seven footers shopping. These weren’t kids, mind you. They had families and grey hair. It was clear to me that they must be former players who were incentivized to stay. Someone or something made it worth their while to never leave that place. I'm sure they aren’t even creative about it, but something is keeping black men from all over the country in Lexington for years. Lexington is ass.
I then thought about giving relatively small amounts of money to former guys for them to contribute their work back to the program. I wondered, what if we brought in Joe Shipp as a shooting consultant? What if we paid Ayinde to run his training facility nearby? We then did the same for Devon Hardin, who now runs a post camp called “Debo On The Block.” I don’t even know what David Paris is working on, but I'm sure he could at least use advice.
What if we then gave some money to Patrick Christoper to come in and be the team stylist? Yeah, a team stylist. Working with brands like NBA stylists do to give our guys access to the hottest gear for free, forever. Guys have money now, sure everyone is going to tell them how to save it, who’s going to tell them how to spend it well? How to spend it fun? This is an actual job NBA teams keep in-house. Would that not show how different we are? Would that not incentivize those guys to stay nearby?
What if someone paid ME to bring a creative studio to the area? A spot that would be equal parts sports as it is art, and it is a cultural hub. In this space, I’d invite my artist, comedy, and celebrity friends to come and create stuff, along with the players from time to time. The space would be quickly known as the only one of its kind, and likely a major part of any recruiting trip. If Red Bull can have a team of people just doing things for hype, why can’t Cal? There are people literally trying to pay me to do this right now; to have a fantasy factory where everything that comes out of it is artistically disruptive and viral and brand-building in a meaningful way. TikTok followers sell things. Artistic disruption builds.
I then thought about how Francisco Elson came to open gym exactly one time and it was like Jesus was instructing us. He didn’t teach us shit. He just played an NBA-style game and it worked so effortlessly against us. I was genuinely shocked and went home to study how the hell he did that to us. Francisco Elson. I’m not taking anything away from him, but would you expect that? Lamond Murray played with us a couple times and was telling Marquis Kately that in the NBA, you gotta get the ball up higher on the glass, because in the league, every big man had his elbow above the rim on blocks. That did two things: it informed Marquis of how high he had to get the ball and it informed me that I had to jump higher. True story. If those two days cost the program some money, I would consider that fucking worth it, because just having alumni show up in suits and polos for a steak dinner raised money, sure. But I never spoke to any of those alumni in a meaningful way. I got nothing from it. I hardly saw those people again. Alumni who show up because they want to and keep it real are the lifeblood of a program and are never forgotten.
What’s wild is that you don’t even need to set up some sort of fund for former players. If any of you invested in them the way people on my recruiting trip promised, they would be around anyway. I want to say this twice. This isn’t even about money as much as it’s about connecting with us. How many of you knew about Ayinde’s training center? Have you taken your kids there? Has anyone reached out to Pat to see what they could do to help him get his business off the ground? Who’s going to have Theo work out their kids? He has NBA experience. I’ve been to mastermind retreats, I know how these things are done. Devin Hardin just asked me for advice about how to find equipment for his post game school.
“You might not get cash, but someone is going to give you resources,” I told him.
“That’s actually all I need,” he replied.
“But Rod! I’ve been in some meetings with important people who say we need to do it a certain way! It’s all about NIL cash. We can do all that and it won’t move the needle. Guys need a dollar amount and that’s it.”
That’s probably true. If we do it like everyone else then cash will be the bottom line. But I know that those people only know what they know. They are right, insofar that they are repeating strategies that work for others. It’s the same playbook. Basketball players are not thinking outside the box, ever. Sports are binary. The fans appreciate that about it. But that also means that I played on or against 47 teams that ran the triangle, and none of them were good at it. They just did what they thought worked.
It also means that every time I was forward-thinking, someone older than me said it was rubbish. The NBA booted me for blogging and then held Social Media Awards three years later. Nobody knows anything about what they can’t see. But that’s what I actually do as an artist. I look at the room and ask “What isn’t here” instead of “How do I use what is?”
I just got off the phone with Sheldon Bailey. Sheldon and I have played together in the past. He’s actually widely known for two things: he’s Lebron James’ body double, and his son, Solo, is a highly-rated recruit in the class of 2024.
“Cal? I mean. It’s not about NIL I can tell you that. I mean, we would consider that, sure, but we care about other things,” he started.
“Well then what’s it about?” I asked.
“Y’all don’t have any pub!” He started laughing before he continued.
“For real! Like Stanford is right there and we know them. Nobody knows Cal. Also their alumni network. I want Solo to stay connected and what even is Cal’s network? It’s fucked up because it’s Cal! Y’all have a dope logo. But there’s just no connection there. Man, in fact tell Cal we would consider them! They ain't even reached out!”
Solomon Bailey is a 4 star recruit. Sheldon kept going for fifteen minutes.
“I’m sure maybe you know, but I don’t know what they doing up there at Cal.”
Mind you, there’s a new staff. So Sheldon could be referring to past strategies. But still, he hit the exact beats I was thinking. Community, alumni engagement, and experience still matter. A lot. He, and a lot of other basketball dads (I know many) see the alumni connection as a huge indicator of a program's health and the future well-being of their sons. Further, Solo is an artist (like a lot of hoopers these days) and the appeal of a creative space sounded different to Sheldon. He admitted they would consider a place that offered creative endeavors above a school just offering money. Before our call was finished, I asked Sheldon if some of my ideas were foolish.
“Hell NO! I don’t care what kind of NIL money they have, if a place was offering any of that I don’t think I could stop Solo from choosing right now.”
Once again: I LOVE THAT WE HAVE THAT NIL POT. I LOVE FOR US. That is not in question. Keep it rolling.
Continuing…. Do you guys love having, AT BEST, a decent program year after year? Do you love it when former players stay away no matter what you do? Do you love arguing among one another about all the problems we have? Do you love hearing that our recruits (including probably when you heard my name) are less than you expected? Is this just part of your collective fan process? Is it actually enjoyable?
I’m actually curious. I’ve been around long enough to see some people literally make the same complaints from decades ago. After 20 years in and around the program, why does doing the same thing as everyone else the same way seem to be the prevailing wisdom in perpetuity?
The former players have a lot of the answers. Don’t just invite guys like me back, ask us! I’m saying with so much certainty that there are meaningful ways to rebuild the Cal family, community, and most importantly its story. This would take minimal, if any, money, time, and energy. But we need you. We always have. Every single guy I called before writing this agrees.
This isn’t about the program. This is about you. This is about me. We are the program. We are GROOT. I am also willing to invest what I have into you, and into this. That’s why I’m writing one of the longest pieces I’ve ever written publicly because I care. I’ve always cared. I show up to LA games all the time. I gave the Student-Athlete Commencement speech. I cried for a full hour after my last game when NC State knocked us out in the first round. When I got back home, I had hundreds of Facebook messages from Cal fans. The one I remember most read:
“I learned how to not jump at a fucking pump fake in fourth grade. Good job loser.”
That’s not us, but that’s what it feels like to play for a school and then walk away, never hearing from them again in a meaningful way. And no I don’t mean some aimless them. I also mean YOU. The people who said we were in this for life. Maybe there was a stipulation that we needed to make it to the NBA to continue the relationship.
We can change that with ease. I can help. Or, we can raise more money, compete in that market, and never look back. I’m actually fine with either. I have other things to do. But AJ aint showing his face. Dennis Gates ain’t coming. We’ll have to beg Jaylen Brown and Jason Kidd to come back every time they do. Forever. I’ll probably fade in and out when I have time, eventually showing up less and less like everyone else. But I ask, do we want that? Again?
Related:
The Benson Blog: Kicking Things Off
Bear Insider Podcast: Cal Hoops Recruiting Talk With Rod Benson