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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Emperor Stern gets a deserved dressing down

John Blanchette The Spokesman-Review

Offices of the National Basketball Association, New York City. Commissioner David Stern enters, in a black Ermenegildo Zegna silk suit, Cadini white shirt, Countess Mara tie, with boxer shorts of undetermined origin.

Stern: “Madeleine, would you call security and have them shoo that homeless bum wearing the Lloyd jersey away from the front door.”

Intern No. 1: “If he can afford an Earl Lloyd throwback, dude ain’t homeless, Mr. Stern.”

Intern No. 2: “I talked to him on my way in – it’s no bum. It’s Earl Lloyd, straight up.”

Stern: “Who?”

Intern No. 1: “First African-American to play in the NBA.”

Stern: “Well, nobody gets grandfathered in under the new dress code. Put him in a cab and tell him there’s a sale at Barney’s.”

Secretary: “Looks like a busy day, Mr. Stern. There seems to be trouble. Phil Knight’s holding on line one.”

Stern (picking up the phone): “Did he say what he was wearing?”

Knight: “I’m wearing Nike sweats, a Nike T-shirt, socks and a pair of Zoom LeBron IIIs, you little twerp. At my store, that’s business casual.”

Stern: “Phil! What can I do for you?”

Knight: “I hear under your new dress code, players can’t wear sneakers or basketball shoes coming to and from the arena, or on the bench if they’re not in uniform, or on the team bus or plane.”

Stern: “That’s true. We think it’s more professional if they wear dress shoes or boots.”

Knight: “I thought their profession was basketball.”

Stern: “Well, technically. But we’re a business, Phil, and we need to adopt a business profile. Some of our corporate partners have been uncomfortable with the image the players project – you know, this hop-hip thing. Too thuggish. The baggy jeans, the throwback jerseys, the chitty-chitty-bang-bang.”

Intern No. 1 (shining Stern’s shoes): “Bling-bling, sir.”

Stern: “I thought that was the new panda at the zoo.”

Knight: “In case you hadn’t noticed, you midget, we’re a corporate partner, too. So’s Adidas. So’s And1. And frankly, we don’t need you telling kids – our customers – that it’s not OK to wear our product anywhere they’d like. That hurts us professionally, get it? So we’re pulling our sponsorships.”

Stern: “But…”

Knight: “Try Florsheim. And take me off your speed dial, munchkin.”

Secretary: “There’s someone from the ACLU on line 2, Mr. Stern.”

Stern (picking up phone): “I forget – is ACLU in the Big Sky or the Missouri Valley Conference?”

Lawyer: “It’s the American Civil Liberties Union, actually. Mr. Stern, my name is Connie Pinqco and I’m a lawyer with the ACLU. I’m calling as a courtesy to let you know we’ve filed a class-action suit on behalf of the players.”

Stern: “That’s wonderful. That’s what we’re taking with this new dress code – class action.”

Lawyer: “You don’t seem to understand. The players are suing because the dress code isn’t being applied unilaterally.”

Stern: “That’s not true. It applies to all the players.”

Lawyer: “But it doesn’t apply to all league and team employees. Look at your owners. Mark Cuban doesn’t own a suit. For heaven’s sake, Paul Allen dresses like a sports writer – or worse, if that’s possible. Even your announcers – Bill Walton comes to the arenas in a Grateful Dead T-shirt before changing into his suit.”

Stern: “That’s NBC’s problem. Next you’ll be telling me that Squatch and the Gorilla are filing amicus briefs.”

Lawyer: “I believe PETA is representing them. Goodbye.”

Secretary: “Mr. Stern, your biggest critic is on line 1.”

Stern: “Tell that damned Peter Vecsey I’m busy.”

Secretary: “Actually, I think he said his name was Mr. Blackwell.”

Stern: “Tell him to call the PR department and get me Sal from global licensing.”

Secretary: “He’s already on line 2. Says it’s an emergency.”

Stern (picking up phone): “Sal, tell me good news, baby. I just lost Nike and all the shoe sponsors.”

Sal: “And now you’re losing your shirt. That is to say, you’re not selling any.”

Stern: “What?”

Sal: “Our merchandise stores are ghost towns. All those $150 replica jerseys and $250 throwbacks are just hanging from the rods. Kids say that if the players can’t wear them anymore, they don’t want them either. Our street cred is dead. I saw two kids at our store on Fifth Avenue who said they were going to Men’s Wearhouse.”

Stern: “No way.”

Sal: “I guarantee it.”

Stern: “This is a nightmare. I need help. Somebody streetwise. Somebody who listens to Dr. J.”

Intern No. 2 (delivering Stern’s laundry): “That’s Dr. Dre, sir.”

Stern: “Get me Bud Selig.”

Intern No. 2: “Never mind him, listen to me.”

Stern: “You’re an intern.”

Intern: “And my dad is the CEO of one of those corporate sponsors who wants to pull his money. You think a dress code is going to solve what’s bugging him and everybody else? Ron Artest goes into the stands after fans. Latrell Sprewell chokes his coach. Jayson Williams shotguns his chauffeur. And you’re going to solve this by taking away their jewelry?”

Stern: “Well…”

Intern: “They don’t like your game. It’s a drag. Shaq gets fouled every time he goes to the hole. Iverson cranks up 40 shots. Teams insist on drafting teenagers who haven’t learned to play. And now you go off to the Olympics and Argentina runs your butt out of the building. You have a ton of problems beyond the hip-hop culture – which, in fact, you didn’t just embrace but sold out to years ago. You’ve been marketing players instead of teams and all people can talk about are malcontents making too much money. The NFL has more criminals than you have but it’s this big strategic spectacle every Sunday.”

Stern: “But the kids…”

Intern: “All you’ve done with kids is reinforce their image of rebels and renegades. You’ve just made their uniform even more imporant.”

Stern: “But professionalism…”

Intern: “Hugh Hefner built an empire in his pajamas. What people wear simply doesn’t matter. Does your wife think you’re any smarter in a suit than you are in skivvies?”

Stern: “My wife – I forgot. She’s waiting for me at the Knicks game.”

Secretary: “She’s on line 1, commissioner. She’s pretty upset”

Mrs. Stern: “David, they won’t let me into the Garden.”

Stern: “Why not?”

Mrs. Stern: “I’m wearing pearls.”