One of the sillier things in pro sports, in my mind, is the way so many teams insist on calling themselves a family.
I understand the comparison. I just don't believe it.
Just because you have the same goal doesn’t make you blood relatives.
This observation hit me as I was reading Sports Illustrated’s short piece on Deron Williams. It details how Williams, the former Jazz player, was easy prey for the Golden State Warriors in this year’s NBA Finals. That news flash came compliments of another ex-Jazz player, Richard Jefferson, in his podcast called “Road Trippin'.”
Jefferson and Williams were teammates in Cleveland last season. Though they both played in Utah, it wasn’t concurrently.
I don’t know what the personal relationship is between Williams and Jefferson, but I can say this: Jefferson is a nice guy, Williams not particularly.
So when I hear about the “family” atmosphere on a team, I’m not impressed. It’s a business. You like some people, don’t like others. Families have differences, too. But they usually make up and they usually stick together. And you won’t see pro athletes drinking out of the same glass or trading clothes.
I wouldn’t call any pro team a true family.
I’d call it a marriage of convenience.