Barack Obama's New Council of Advisors

by Bethlehem Shoals

As anyone who once gave $15 to the Obama campaign knows, POTUS had a birthday this weekend. We signed the card, along with the family dog… and Michelle left town.

Naturally, the most powerful man in the galaxy had but one option: invite over a Murderer’s Row of basketball greats past and present to play some ball and have an informal cook-out. Footage from this unusual event is fast becoming the Holy Grail for, well, me; if nothing else, we deserve a few choice vignettes. There’s infinite grist for jokes-”did you hear the one about Kobe Bryant, Bill Russell, and the last bag of chips?”-and, more seriously, a thousand conversations I wish I could have heard.

Really, though, is a basketball game ever just a basketball game? When Obama first took office we were treated to article after article comparing running a government to a box of chocolate-err, a game of basketball. Hillary Clinton would make a great point guard, Joe Biden could have his contract bought out if things went awry, and Obama himself knew how to sweat the details. I wish it had been that interesting. Most of it was dangerously close to Sarah Palin’s mangled explanation of how beating the full-court press was like fending off the liberal armies of Satan.

But there’s another dimension to this story. It’s not just about basketball-as-metaphor; the game was played often amongst Obama and his closest advisers. I have a scouting report on David Axelrod filed away in case I ever find stuck in the paint with him, trying to earn his respect. Everyone knows that Rahm Emmanuel WILL NOT LOSE-everyone, that is, who wants to preserve his incisors. This is how men grow to live and breathe as one, where trust is forged. You build a team through late-middle-aged pick-up ball, not flowery, post-facto analogy.

Oh, how long ago that feels. Now, with memories of Obama’s astronomic pull having become something a burden (“Man, you fell off”), it’s time to build for the mid-terms. So where you see a bunch of hoops celebs brought over to entertain the President like a one-man weekend fantasy camp, I see quite the opposite: an audition for a new crop of advisers the only way dude knows how.

Here, in a world exclusive, is what these players might bring to a revamped administration, or at least do to help bolster Obama at this crucial juncture:

Carmelo Anthony: Anthony has been loved and discarded more times than his fans would care to admit. He entered the league as the reigning NCAA champ with Syracuse, and two years later, was alone on a mountain contemplating a string of on- and off-court stinkers. This resilience, and return to the source, is what Obama needs.

Shane Battier: A brilliant smokescreen: Let them groan about how Battier made it just because, like Obama body-man Reggie Love, he played ball at Duke. Privilege, the ivory tower, and other nefarious constructs that, these days, are used to keep good men down. But like his game, Battier’s stealth. Famous for doing the little things, he’s just what this team needs to make sure it gets back that “on message” mojo, not just a distant memory.

Chauncey Billups: His charisma is equal parts blue collar grit and deus ex superstar. That’s the delicate balance that The Man himself seems to have let slip.

Kobe Bryant: Kobe didn’t play. Damn straight this administration keeps secrets.

Derek Fisher: Not to minimize Fisher’s infant daughter having eye cancer, but that’s exactly the kind of selling point for health care that Obama needs. Get Fish on television telling his story-leaving out, of course, the fact that he’s a millionaire-and universal, single-payer care becomes a no-brainer. Crank up the holograms and house of mirrors if anyone holds out on the Senate floor.

Grant Hill: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Back when everyone was outwardly racist, and figured that the only way a black man could find his way to higher office was through sports or entertainment (like Reagan), Hill was near the top of the list for First Black President. Still, he seethes. Oh also, Duke again, so watch for that coup.

LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh: Miami’s Big Three offer up both a flexible definition of leadership and greatness, and a visionary stance on shit like bailouts and takeovers. Why will we all ultimately come around? Because this team will be fucking awesome, that’s why. If the banks and auto companies sponsored monster teams, or at least showed us flying cars and checks that glowed in the dark, we wouldn’t feel like we were getting nothing for something.

Magic Johnson: The Dems have serious concerns about African-Americans showing up for the mid-terms. Magic owns a Starbucks and a movie theater in every predominantly black neighborhood that still has roads. That’s a power base. It’s like when quack doctors first harnessed the power of radio for non-sports self-promotion. Someone needs to plant that seed, though.

Maya Moore: Obama’s already made history by supporting the WNBA, and Moore is as formidable a lady baller as you’ll find. And she interested in applying for a Rhodes scholarship, which could help shore up support among the Bill Bradley wing of the party. Speaking of nothing, if FOX is wondering, there’s no white American voters here. Maybe that’s why the New Orleans Saints made it to the White House today.

Chris Paul and Derrick Rose: Naturally, Obama’s interested in turning the White House over to shadowy fixer William “Worldwide Wes” Wesley, the most sinister part of anything involving LeBron James. Where do you think LBJ got that Freemason shit from? Paul, the league’s supreme PG, has been reduced to a pawn of James and Wesley’s LRMR firm. Rose, even more dramatically, is just there to fill out this roster with Wes-approved talent. Also, I get a distinct Manchurian Franchise Player vibe from him.

Bill Russell and Etan Thomas: Not only is William Felton Russell the most winning-est pro athlete this side of Babe Ruth, he’s also one of the pillars of jock activism, a die-hard progressive who has absolutely refused to hold his tongue, ever, about anything. I can only guess that this is a nod to those fractious lefties who still think Obama belongs to them-just like Cleveland thought it owned LeBron. Thomas, too, is here to placate. More or less irrelevant as a pro, this journeyman does write a lot of pieces attacking war and oppression, and also gets his poetry slam on. True or false: this would make the first time Obama has been spotted alongside someone with ‘locks? The cynic in me wonders if Thomas would get this invite if he were still a Washington Wizard.

(Notable exclusion: John Wall, the DC rookie who is the latest Next Big Thing. Suspect that backroom dealings with Stern are to blame to this; you don’t want an athlete political before he’s established his station in sport.)

David West: A four-year college stand-out who ended up an NBA All-Star, West is all about staying in school. He’s also interested in “black history [and culture], philosophy and various societal issues”, and plays the tuba very, very well. This is how you fuse education and basketball to dramatic effect: Put West in charge and integrate these programs. Oh, and it saves music class, too.

Joakim Noah: You know Obama is feeling the music of Noah’s father Yannick, the French tennis star-turned-reggae-songster. This is exactly what you’d expect to hear on Obama’s iPod, no?

Pau Gasol: When the EU fails, and the so-called “PIGS” (Portugal/Italy/Greece/Spain) become economic anti-matter unleashing an army of swarthy malcontents, only Gasol can raise his right hand and intone, slowly but surely, “Stop this way, I want to get off.” Obama’s planting seeds. You know he always plays the long game.

Bethlehem Shoals, a regular contributor to NBA FanHouse, is a founding member of FreeDarko.com, whose Undisputed Guide to Pro Basketball History will be published by Bloomsbury, USA in November.