“I don't know how to start this s**t.”
-Nas, N.Y. State of Mind
There’s a powerful lesson in that Nas verse. That line is in the intro to N.Y. State of Mind, the song that made Nas famous. In it, he talks about the “New York State of Mind”, which he explains is the urge to be violent - to rob, cheat, shoot, and things of that nature. One other line from that song stood out to me in particular:
”I never sleep, because sleep is the cousin of death.”
That’s easily Nas’ greatest line of his career, and Nas is the greatest lyricist ever, so that’s saying something. It’s as honest, as raw, as emotional as we’ve ever seen him. Because through all of the chaos that is N.Y. State of Mind, he reveals something in that line, something that makes us question everything previously stated in the song.
He’s scared.
He doesn’t want to sleep, because he’s so worried his previous mistakes are going to get him killed. Before the song starts, this fear is so overpowering that he straight-up tells us:
“I don't know how to start this s**t.”
These raw emotions scare him. He doesn’t want to have to think about being afraid. He buries himself in what he knows, instead of facing what makes him uncomfortable.
Golden State Warriors assistant Dejan Milojevic suffered a heart attack during a small team dinner on the night of Tuesday, January 16, 2023. Despite life-sustaining efforts, he passed the next morning. He was 46.
Eight days later, the Golden State Warriors were back in the Chase Center.
Eight days is not a long time. This is not the Warriors’ fault (they gave those days and probably would have gone on for longer), but more so the result of the NBA not wanting to lose the incredible amount of money the Warriors generate for them. Adam Silver (boooooooo!!!!), the NBA’s commissioner and premier douchebag, likely wanted them to return to action as soon as possible. After all, when fellow Warrior Draymond Green told Silver, “Hey dude, I might retire to, you know, focus on my well-being and mental health,” Adam Silver was like, “Uh, I don’t think so dude. I won’t let you do that.” (F**k Adam Silver, by the way.)
But still, those eight days - as short as they were - the fact that they were there at all is what is so incredible about this thing. For a week and a half, the Golden State Warriors were able to process what had happened.
Sports are routine. They are these athletes’ entire lives. They wake up, play sports, go to bed, for 80% of every year. They don’t know how to do anything else. Why do you think all these athletes become analysts? They’re too attached to their games, or rather their lifestyles.
I say this because there’s often a habit to just…lose yourself in what you know. Like I talked about at the beginning, something you’re familiar with can seem oh so much easier than doing the necessary hard work.
Besides, athletes often consider themselves above serious emotion. Even now, where people are more open than they’ve ever been, athletes (mainly male athletes, because stigma is annoyingly powerful) just don’t think they should deal with it. No one would have blamed the Warriors if they had just…returned to normal.
But they didn’t. And that’s what matters.
Taking time to grieve is one of the most important things anyone can do.
It’s hard to grieve. It sucks. When my grandmother, Sara Lynne Kramer D’Huyvetter (the greatest person I have ever known) passed in late 2021, I really didn’t know what to do. No human (RIP Jesse) I had ever known that well had ever died. I cried, and I thought about her a lot, but mostly I just was in a sort of limp space. Weightless.
I made the same mistakes everyone does. Life went on as normal for me. I settled into a routine, and took comfort in that. But that feeling of weightlessness never really settled. I didn’t reach out to anyone. It took a long time and a lot of self-conversations for me to feel at peace within myself. And a lot of crying.
It’s okay to grieve. It’s scary, but okay.
Often we lose sight of that.
-Ian
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