David Murphy: Danny Green and his critics would benefit from a little mutual understanding | Sports

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PHILADELPHIA I love my mother, but …

I love my husband, but …

I love our fans, but …

Perhaps the reconciliation lies in a parallel structure. When you look at some of the other reviews that take the form of Danny Green’s criticisms of the 76ers fan base, are they really worth raging, simmering, or whining? We all love people. And all of these people do things that drive us crazy. They leave towels on the floor. They put the small forks with the big forks. A friend of a friend once said that she couldn’t stand her husband blowing his nose in the shower. Sometimes the weaknesses are small and superficial. Sometimes they are deep and systemic. Rarely is the appropriate and constructive response to have a temper tantrum or tell the critic to go jump into a dirty pond.

I always end up feeling like a therapist whenever guys like Green say things like he said in an interview with John Clark of NBC Sports Philadelphia earlier this week. The relationship between fans and athletes in this city is one that can make even the most tumultuous romantic couples look like happiness. One side takes a passive-aggressive hit to the other. The other side is unleashed. As is often the case in these situations, both parties are at least partially to blame for the things the other accuses them of. They are both far too sensitive to criticism.

“It affects everyone,” Green said during his appearance on the Takeoff with John Clark podcast. “And I think that’s something that needs to change in the city. I love our fans, but when things don’t go well they can turn on you. It’s the one thing I wouldn’t be with. disagree or dislike. Some guys use it as motivation. Some guys have a chip on their shoulder. But I think that has to change. They have to ride with us no matter how things go. “

Green is right and he is wrong. The fans and media figures who lambasted him are right and wrong. As usual, the disconnection lies in a lack of understanding, an inability to put yourself in the other’s shoes. Take reviews, for example. One phenomenon that you will notice in these situations is that the harshest criticisms tend to come from those who are furthest away from the players. They come from radio hosts, columnists, talking heads and the fans themselves. The more time you spend interacting with, watching and listening to athletes up close as they practice their craft, the more you see them as craftsmen and less as artists. You see the pride they take in their performance. You see the insane determination with which they approach their preparation. You see them rejoicing and you see them hurt. Green, Rhys Hoskins, Carson Wentz if you see them primarily as people who are paid very well to provide entertainment, it’s easy to think that they should be seen and not heard. But if you see them primarily as people doing work, their feelings become like any other person’s: worthy of consideration and reflection.

On the other hand, we have the fans and the basic misconception betrayed by players when they complain about this city’s penchant for expressing its displeasure. Green may love the fans, but he doesn’t understand them any better than they understand him. What he doesn’t understand is that it’s impossible to separate what he loves in fans from what he hates. The noise in the arena, the intensity of the cheers, the sensation of the city kings that success wins an athlete comes from the same place as the boos, taunts and critical headlines. They come from the passion, the investment, the belief that every player on the court or on the pitch is an extension of the city itself. The fans are not very different from the players in at least one respect. When they lose they suffer, and the level of pain they feel is one that cannot remain unspoken in a healthy way. Take the boos away and you take the cheers away. This is why so many fan bases seem so much flatter than places like Philly, Boston, or New York. They are flatter. They just don’t care.

It’s one of the eternal truths of life, isn’t it? Passion is a double-edged sword that cannot be blunted on one side. Green’s observations are mostly valid. There are few worse places to underperform than Philadelphia. There are few places less suited to someone who doesn’t have an ego made of steel and a fortress with a filter around him. It can’t help but have an aggravating effect when things go wrong. Is it a coincidence that the city of Tampa has won five professional sports titles since the dawn of the Internet age, while the city of Philadelphia has won two? Probably. But it makes you wonder if there is any benefit to playing outside of the limelight.

At the same time, whoever wants to eliminate evil at the expense of good has not spent enough time here. Are there any victims? Sure. Can we ignore the fact that the three most famous draft picks of the past five years have suffered previously unimaginable crises of confidence during their brief stints here? No, we can’t. But athlete personalities are their personalities, and so are fan collections. At the end of the day, it’s like any relationship. You bask in the good and tolerate the bad, or you go get another shower to blow your nose.

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