SEATTLE — On the same day callers flooded radio phone lines to condemn his selfishness, Brandon Roy was acting predictably selfless.
A night after harping on the in-game touches he wants to receive, the Blazers shooting guard showcased his capacity to give.
Portland’s regular-season debut is still a week and a half away, and already fans are speculating as to whether Roy saying he “wants the basketball a lot more” will corrode his team’s chemistry. But if we are on the topic of chemistry, it’s probably also an appropriate time to point out that philanthropy, quite simply, is a part of Brandon’s DNA.
“Brandon was always the best player on our team, but he never wanted any kind of preferential treatment, and that mindset has carried over to his giving to the community,” said Lorenzo Romar, who coached Roy at the University of Washington. “In an era where everyone’s telling you how great you are — with highlights and YouTube and all that — that kind of attitude is pretty unique to Brandon.”
I’ve been covering the Blazers for exactly 10 days, which, in one sense, gives me the authority of a Rose Garden churro salesman when it comes to commenting on a player’s character. However, it also affords me a fresh set of eyes while subjecting me to first impressions.
Before schlepping up here, I covered a certain Southern Californian NBA championship team whose star player kept his smile in solitary confinement. So to see someone like Roy, who won’t leave the practice floor until every notebook is filled, every microphone spoken into, was at the very least a refreshing change.
Other reporters told me Roy’s affability was about as sure a bet as a gray-skied Portland winter. Then again, the media’s often easy to impress. So I suppose it was Roy’s public contributions — many of which aren’t even really that public — that caused me to turn my head like a defender he crossed over.
Thursday night in Seattle, he and the Blazers played an intrasquad scrimmage at his alma mater, Garfield High, where he presented a $20,000 check in front of the capacity crowd at halftime. The idea was Roy’s brainchild, as was the foundation he started three years ago aimed at aiding learning-disabled children.
He also has promoted “Students First” — a program designed to help prospective students from lower-income families attend Washington, funds the boys and girls basketball programs at Garfield, and recently approached a local columnist, unprovoked, and said, “Hey, I hear you’re starting a foundation. What can I do?”
The thing of it is, much of his altruism has flown about as under-the-radar as Tom Brady on draft day. Whether it’s little things like giving a kid a pair of shoes, or bigger things like stocking a high school weight room with equipment, many of his efforts have been kept on the downlow despite the image-boost he’d reap if the public got the lowdown.
“I had a conversation about this with someone this evening. Brandon, he does things not to be recognized, not be noticed — but he does them,” Garfield boys basketball coach Ed Haskins said. “Most people don’t know what Brandon does.”
This probably shouldn’t be newsworthy. Millions of people far less fortunate than Roy donate their time and money toward philanthropic causes and never receive recognition.
And in the Tiger Woods, Roger Clemens and Kobe Bryant era, sanctifying an athlete you don’t know on a deeply personal level is not just dangerous, but borderline moronic.
And none of the above makes Roy’s public statement about what Blazer life was like before Andre Miller arrived any less baffling, nor does it quell doubt about future tension between him and his point guard.
Still, it’s tough to believe that Roy putting himself first would in any way contribute to this team’s downfall.
Shoes? Money? Time? That stuff he’s willing donate.
But giving away wins would be a little generous, even for him.
Matt Calkins is the Trail Blazers beat writer. Contact him at 360-735-4528 or e-mail matt.calkins@columbian.com
