What have you thought of your career overall to this point?
MB: Honestly speaking, I think people don’t disrespect but overlook what I’ve been able to do in the amount of time I’ve been able to do it in. If you look at my per 36 numbers for every team, they’re All-Star caliber numbers (19.6 points, 7.4 rebounds, 2.0 assists). My argument for my career is I’ve never been given a chance to play extra minutes.
Off the court, my mom died when I was playing for the Lakers. I fought through that, and I came back. My cousin died the game I forgot my shorts in Oklahoma. I was battling that day, trying to fight through it. I wanted to go to the funeral, but I was already gone when my mom died. I just wanted to be there for the team, and the whole world just laughed at me. My whole career, I’ve never been given a chance to show who I really am, how I can really play, show that I can really win and be somebody. The whole world laughed at me. It hurt my feelings. I’m not going to lie.
Did you say anything to anyone at the time?
MB: No. I don’t like pity. My mom was going through cancer, maybe a year before she told the family. She was being strong. I was trying to be strong. I was trying to show her I could be tough. That ѕhit was hard. I’m not going to lie. When it happened, it felt like an excuse. That’s why I never said anything. I thought it would die over (referring to the jokes about forgetting his shorts). That shit didn’t die. Every f*cking year that ѕhit lived on. Even my close friends don’t even know. I let them have the joke because if it makes people happy, it makes people happy, rather than going around and making people sad.
You were going to play for the Nets in the bubble before your positive Covid test. What was going through your mind then when you were about to return to the NBA?
Michael Beasley: I got food poisoning in the bubble. I think my fourth or fifth day quarantining, I woke up one morning, and I threw up maybe 20 times. I had to go to the hospital. I found out I had COVID in the hospital. It just went south from there.
Are there times when you have a quote where you’re being funny, and people take it seriously and misconstrue it?
MB: Yes. I’m such a funny and sarcastic person. I’m so witty, so if you say something to me, I’ve got a joke for it. I’ve got a comeback for it. It’s the household I grew up in. A lot of times, people think I’m stupid or crazy. One, take a joke. Two, understand it. Three, I want to do a podcast and name it Let Me Finish. A lot of the time, I say whatever I’m saying, and people get hung over the first three or four words without letting me round it off. It creates a lot of misunderstandings.
How was it playing for the Knicks?
MB: The Knicks hurt my feelings. On the court, I had Kurt Rambis there. I think 15 or 20 games into the season, Kurt came to me and asked me if I thought I should be playing? I said, “Yeah.” He said, “Before I ask you why, every time you go on the floor, just show the coach why you should be playing.” I had something to play for. Off the court, nobody knows this, but I found out my mom had cancer going into training camp in New York. That was extra motivation. I used to drive down after every game and every practice to Baltimore and kick it with my mom.
New York hurt my feelings so badly. I really wanted to stay in New York for the rest of my career. I had a good year. We were losing, but I was a bright spot. I used to drive after every practice and every game or get on the train to see my mom because she had cancer. At the end of the season in the exit meeting, the flight home from the last game was when they fired Jeff Hornacek. They had Corey Gaines do our exit meetings. I walk in, and he runs down my stats for the year. In my mind, I’m like you finally did it, got a nice contract, and solidified yourself a home for at least three years.
If you look at my career, even dating back to high school, I’ve never played anywhere more than two years. I patted myself on the back, walking into the exit meeting with Steve Mills. I walk into the meeting, and they look at me to my face and say, “Michael Beasley is one of the most talented players that ever put on a Knicks jersey, but how does that help us win?” This is one of the times I wish I had more confidence because I was literally lost for words. That confused me. After maybe 20 or 30 seconds of silence, they said some positive things, and they’d keep in contact with my agent. That wasn’t the part that hurt my feelings. I was so close to my mom, and my dream was to play in DC and be home, but being in New York was as good as I could get to playing in DC as far as being close to my mom.
Free agency came up, and we were negotiating. While we were negotiating my contract, it shocked me that they didn’t want to give me more than one year. They wanted me to come back to New York on a veteran minimum deal. I was like, that’s not fair. At least give me $1 million more. While we were negotiating, they signed Mario Hezonja. They gave him my number, and they gave him the contract I asked for, which forced me to sign in Los Angeles with the Lakers. People think I wanted to go sign in Los Angeles. Not that I didn’t, but Los Angeles and Oklahoma City were the other teams that wanted me. To fly six hours away after being a three or four-hour drive away from my mom that took a toll on me. That’s the part that hurt my feelings. I didn’t deserve that, and she didn’t deserve that.
Regarding confidence on the basketball court, it seemed like you could do a lot from shooting, rebounding, and why you were a high pick. When you said confidence, was that on the court or outside as a person?
MB: Both. It started on the court. The first thing that happened to me when I got to the NBA was everyone told me what I couldn’t do. That’s literally all I’ve heard for my entire career. Even if I couldn’t do things, which I didn’t agree with, what about the things that I could do? Can we make those things better or work around that? Every other player you build around, you build around how they play.
I used to talk to my therapist about the yips. I forgot how to shoot a jump shot. I got injured in Minnesota one year. Everybody laughed at this too. I reached for a ball Kevin Love threw, and my finger peeled back, and I had to get 10 or 11 stitches in my index finger on my shooting hand. That stiffened my hand up for about 18 months. I had to learn how to shoot a jump shot again. Even before that, the jump shots I took, everybody would say, “Bro, those are the worst shots in the league. You’re taking long twos.” These are the same shots I grew up watching Kobe Bryant take. I’m not taking shots different than Kobe would take, or what Michael Jordan would take. That did something to my brain that I didn’t know what shot to shoot. I literally just started playing not to f*ck up.
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