JA RULES: THE MORANT SHOW IS JUST WHAT THE NBA NEEDED

There’s nothing like an emerging showman, appointment TV at its most dazzling, to divert attention from the league’s brooding stars with his joyful viral explosions — in a small market he has embraced

     This isn’t a suggestion or casual entertainment tip. It’s a directive from the heavens, which dropped Ja Morant onto a league that sorely needs his joy-for-life voltage, social media takeovers, smiling-killer persona and, above all, his willingness to view a distressed community as a long-term home and not a career pit stop. Now, the heavens demand we drop everything we’re doing, even if it hurts feelings, and allow him to push every button on our sensory panels.

     All night, all season.

     The NBA never stops giving gifts, even as it keeps giving headaches. The raw, anything-is-virally-possible showmanship of Temetrius Jamel Morant invites comparisons to Steph Curry, Allen Iverson and even Michael Jordan, but what it truly does in 2022, so refreshingly and urgently, is whisk us away from the jaded business of pro basketball. Our conversations have turned to “Did you see what Ja did?’’ moments, such as a sequence the other night, when he melted and stared down 7-footer Jakob Poeltl with his most posterizing dunk to date, then one-upped Christian Laettner — hell, every Hail Mary receiver in football history — by catching an end-to-end pass from Steven Adams in mid-air and, arms and legs covered in yellow compression sleeves, beating the halftime buzzer against an old-school legend.

     “I just wish I had a camera so I could get a few pictures,’’ Gregg Popovich said after Morant handed San Antonio a loss, keeping him a victory short of the league record for most regular-season coaching wins. “He’s a beautiful player. Everybody says, ‘He’s athletic.’ Somebody says, ‘He’s a freak of nature,’ because he’s so fast. But he also makes decisions. He knows what is going on on the court. So, you combine that cerebral part of his game with his athleticism and you’ve got a special kid.”

     Special isn’t the right word. At 22, Morant has become the pride of the league, its leader in box-office appeal and buzz, one of its foremost Most Valuable Player contenders and a candidate to lead the Memphis Grizzlies, previously a nondescript and relocation-plausible organization, on a deep run in the Western Conference playoffs. Every sizzle variable that elevates the NBA in eyeball quotient — and keeps us watching, despite the cold water splashes brought by a brooding LeBron James and hapless Russell Westbrook in Los Angeles, a self-centered Kyrie Irving and quitting Ben Simmons in Brooklyn — is what Morant delivers. You almost wanted to send him to Florida, where owners and players were gutting what’s left of Major League Baseball, and see if his smile alone could create labor peace.

     All you need to know is how he reacted after scoring a career-high 52 points on a magical evening that surpassed all superlatives this season by Curry, Joel Embiid, DeMar DeRozan, Giannis Antetokounmpo, Nikola Jokic and other NBA standouts. And this wasn’t about shaking loose for three-pointers and firing. He attacked the rim and ruled the paint, a fearless force at 6-3 and 174 pounds, and wanted to praise everyone else. “I’m thankful for my teammates, my coaches,’’ Morant said. “They believe in me and have all the confidence in the world that I’ll make the right plays. Everyone was like, ‘Just run, we’re gonna look for you.’ I listened. Man, that’s what it’s all about. Those my dogs. We’ve battled each and every night since day one. We all got each other’s back. We all happy for each other’s success. That just shows you right there how they root me on and cheer me. I got close, and they told me, go get 50. And you could tell at the end they was looking for me.”

     What, no forecast on how he’ll top the converted court-length pass from Adams? “That’s something I’ll probably never be able to do again,’’ Morant said. “I’m only a red-zone guy. Fade route. Jump ball.’’

     All he cared about was the bundle of joy in his arms, 2-year-old daughter Kaari, who was born during his rookie NBA season. “This is my baby, my motivation right here,’’ he said. “Only right to make history on a night she's here to watch me."

     And to think only two nights earlier, in Chicago, he’d scored 46. What inspired him to pour in 20 during a decisive third quarter. “Yeah, I seen the Michael Jordan video they played during the timeout. That got me going,’’ he said, flashing that grin again.

     Is he too good to be true? Commissioner Adam Silver is very fortunate that his league has Morant. He’s the antithesis of the disease that ails the NBA — wandering eyes, too many marquee names looking for greener grass and shinier hardwood in desirable cities. He grew up humbly down a back road in South Carolina low country, was overshadowed by Zion Williamson on an AAU team driven in a van by his father, played college ball at Murray State in backwater Kentucky and, thus, never has taken his fast track to superstardom for granted. It wasn’t long ago when Morant was learning to play on a rim in his parents’ backyard, soaking in wisdom from watching games on TV and playing NBA 2K.

     He was trained by his dad, Tee, who never went easy on his son. Ja refers to him as “his first hater,’’ a tough love that exists to this day. “Nothing too much positive with him,’’ said Ja, who has been hearing at home that he’s “overrated’’ since his teen years in Dalzell (population 3,057).

     “It’s like a love-hate to me. I love the fact that he’s finally getting his just due, but I hate it because I’m such a villain of complacency,” Tee Morant told the Washington Post. “I hate it when people get a little notoriety and stop working.”

     There is no sign of let-up, in Tee’s wrath or Ja’s energy. After his jet-propulsion block against the Lakers in January, which prompted LeBron to wonder if Morant has “rockets in his calf muscle,’’ Tee said his son should have been called for goaltending.

     All of which serves to ground a young man, albeit unfairly, who happens to love Memphis because it, too, is small and challenged. The poverty rate of a predominantly Black city is 28 percent, while the income of the average White household is $75,000. Crime and drugs make it one of the nation’s most dangerous places. Memphis couldn’t afford the spiritual body blow of this present from God, this unifying force of community sustenance, fleeing to Miami or Los Angeles or New York. But Morant, fortified by an impressive roster construct that includes Jaren Jackson Jr. and Desmond Bane and others we’re just getting to know, has said often that he has no interest in playing elsewhere. It’s no bluff, as he recently told The Athletic, and he fully intends to sign a $217-million supermax extension due next summer after he inevitably makes an all-league team.

     “Me, I’m not a big fan on the leaving,” Morant said. “I’m going to make the best of any situation, continue to go out with my teammates, win games, play in front of our fans and do whatever I can to continue to bring love.”

     Can the Grizzlies contend for an NBA Finals berth now, with Phoenix and Golden State atop the West? “One hundred percent, no question,’’ he said.

     And to think Memphis was supposed to be settling when Morant landed as the No. 2 overall pick in the 2019 draft. Williamson was the perceived golden prize when he went No. 1 to New Orleans. Since then, as Morant has  become an American sensation, Zion has battled injuries and weight issues and, of course, is trying to force his way to another franchise. He’s only following the carpetbagging lead of James and Kevin Durant in the past, an opportunistic trend adopted by James Harden (twice), Simmons, Irving, Kawhi Leonard and Anthony Davis, among others.

     Before The Ja Show, empowered mobility had been the season’s predominant theme, with Harden forcing his way to Philadelphia and Simmons using a mental-health defense for a one-way ticket out. James tried to form a superteam in L.A. by actively recruiting Westbrook, then cowardly blamed the front office when his bright idea crapped out. After floating yet another escape-hatch possibility in two years — finishing his career in Cleveland with son Bronny — James was criticized roundly before retreating and saying of the Lakers, “This is a franchise I see myself being with. I'm here. I'm here. … I literally live in the moment. I do. I live in the moment. I see myself being with the purple and gold as long as I can play.’’ His lone L.A. championship, in the Disney World Bubble, is all but forgotten by fans who boo a team that might be tanking its way out of the playoffs. LeBron never will be considered a Laker legend, not made of Kobe and Magic cloth, and after another late collapse led to a 10th loss in 13 games, he was left to say, “We still have games to play. Until you stomp me out, cut my head off, bury me 12 feet under, then I got a chance.’’

     At least he wasn’t surly like Westbrook, who did his fading reputation no favors when asked whether he takes the boos home with him. “Nah. Take it home? For what? S—. Take it home?’’ he said. “I got three beautiful kids at my house. Why would I take it home? If they boo, they can take their ass home. I ain't worried about that. It doesn't bother me none.’’

     If the 27-34 Lakers somehow survived a play-in tournament, they clearly would be 12 feet under … against the Grizzlies, who are pushing Golden State for the No. 2 conference seed. Give this some thought. The Warriors are dealing with Draymond Green’s back and calf injuries, praying Klay Thompson stays healthy and hoping Curry’s shooting slumps are over. The Suns can’t afford more playoff injury drama involving 36-year-old Chris Paul, who is out with a right thumb fracture.

     Are we going to put anything past Ja Morant? Iverson isn’t. He posted a photo of his 2001 MVP trophy … with Morant’s jersey wrapped around it. “Sooner or Later!!! @JaMorant,’’ he wrote.

     Nor are the team broadcasters suspending disbelief, knowing they are lucky to witness The Ja Show. After Morant all but eviscerated Poeltl, analyst Brevin Knight told play-by-play man Pete Pranica, “Petey, I thought we’d seen it all. We have NOT seen it all.’’

     Or, as Tee Morant told the Post, “That boy a cyborg. I built the machine. I can’t control it.’’ 

     What’s next? I’ll be watching Thursday night. The Ja Show is in Boston, and it’s about time they elevated him from League Pass to TNT. If he’s in the NBA Finals, ABC will have no choice but to gush and goo with the rest of us.

###

     Jay Mariotti, called “the most impacting Chicago sportswriter of the past quarter-century,’’ writes general sports columns for Substack while appearing on some of the 1,678,498 podcasts and shows in production today. He is an accomplished columnist, TV panelist and talk/podcast host. Living in Los Angeles, he gravitated by osmosis to film projects.