Few athletes are bigger than life.
Babe Ruth was one.
And now Victor Wembanyama could be the next.
Ruth and Wemby actually have a lot in common.
Ruth was so much more powerful than his rivals 100 years ago, most baseball fans wish they’d have been alive to see him play.
Wemby is similar today, except that we get to watch him as much as we want.
And by we, I’m talking about American sports fans. With apologies to Amazon-Plus Paris, surely not everyone is enjoying the same experience.
That’s what makes this off-season so interesting.
Sure, it’ll be nice to see where LeBron James, Giannis Antetokounmpo and Kawhi Leonard land next season, but they no longer have the impact of Victor Wembanyama.
He is the new face of the league.
But you have to wonder … Is that enough?
Wemby is eligible for a monster contract extension in July. It seems like a formality that the Spurs will offer him as much money as the rules allow, and Wemby will sign on for as long as possible, answering the prayers of his new-found “sisters.”
And if he does, he’ll never be Babe Ruth.
Wemby has the potential to be the face of the game, not just the league. The whole supersized enchilada. Here, there and everywhere.
Heck, he might already be.
He’s the most fascinating athlete in all of sports. Earth is his basketball, and he’s palming it.
But here’s the problem: San Antonio.
Nothing against Countdown City, whatever that means. But do we even know that the Frenchman likes salt on his margaritas?
And was he even rooting for the Texans at the Alamo? I mean, the result has been Texas Tech, and nobody would have wanted that.
I digress.
This is the pinnacle of sports? A team with a nickname that sounds like some form of arthritis, and a mascot that is some relative of the guy the Roadrunner ran off a cliff.
THAT’S where we’ve placed America’s superhero?
Actually, the biggest problem with Davy Crockett’s resting spot is its prize possession — George Gervin, Larry Kenon and the guys who nearly ended Dr. J’s ABA career — went for the big money and left the league with the colored basketball.
The ABA would know what to do with Wemby. The league that drew the 3-point line that saved the little guy would now be smart enough to erase that painted rectangle under the hoop.
Yes, it was necessary when George Mikan was like a foot taller than your average plumber. But today, heck, even the vast Wemby only sees eye-to-eyebrow with Chet Holmgren.
Wemby has gotten called for Three Seconds in the Key multiple times this postseason. Seriously. Hopefully those officials have been fired.
But you know what? They are no more fun-killing than the refs who allow so-called defenders to serve as bouncers every time he tries to get within arm’s length of the hoop.
That wouldn’t happen in France. But you better believe it’s in Thunder’s Game 5 game plan. Sic ‘im, Isaiah.
Can you imagine Wemby given free reign of the key? Hands off. No stopwatches.
The world would tune in.
He’d score 50 points a game. Might even approach 100 against Wizards-level opponents.
That’s Ruthian.
More relatable, he’d be Tiger Woods. Every shot would be much-watch TV.
NBA decision-makers are too stubborn to let it happen. They love their football, er basketball, playoffs.
But Europeans adore their heroes. For crying out loud, they put up with Colin Montgomerie.
Within one week in the Euroleague, Wemby would put his sport on the soccer-crazy map from Lisbon to Lithuania, Amsterdam to Athens. He would be treated like Cristiano Ronaldo, except by a new generation. He might even inspire countries to someday overpower the little-man-fascinated US in basketball.
In America, Wemby is being treated like a South Texan pinata that’s an accident waiting to happen. No pot of money will fix that.
In Europe, Wemby would be Babe Ruth.
Think about it: Would you rather be rich in San Antonio, or Babe Ruth in Paris?
I agree. It’s a no-brainer.
