Round 2 - NBA Photographer Nat Butler

Just like Usher’s Confessions II, Sometimes the sequel is as good as the original.

Part two of me versus famed NBA photographer Nat Butler. We cover the time he met Nelson Mandela and had to move away from the window because of snipers. Also travelling Paris before Magic Johnson's AIDs diagnosis. Read it below.

Within the NBA’s airtight bubble, Mr Butler is one of the few to eyeball this year’s playoffs. Joining a handpicked roster, Nat shoots from a delegated corner. Typically, he’d pace the hardwood like Frank Vogel after a bad foul. This year is different. Butler’s visuals of Tyler Herro overlooked by disembodied avatars are peak 2020. After four decades; Nat has officially seen it all. 

It’s difficult to appreciate everything the New Yorker has witnessed. Magic’s 1987 game-winning skyhook looks like a museum artifact. Nat’s Slam 1996 cover was one of my first magazines. 

Butler shot early games in monochrome because some newspapers didn’t run colour. He’d develop film rolls hoping his single button press captured a nanosecond of action. Nowadays, his visuals are available to a team of editors within seconds. In minutes, they can reach millions. 

Nat typically spends at least eight months with athletes. He’s in the locker room, at the medical centre, in the gym and on the floor. Players don’t censor their conversations because they know Butler. He’s not thirsty. Clout-chasing isn’t in his consciousness. He knows when to put the camera down and when to immortalize the scene. 

“It starts at the top. If you were good with MJ then you were good with the rest of the team. If you’re good with Lebron, then you’re good with everybody else,” he says. 

More jewels here.

More Words: An interview with LA Laker Robert Sacre

I’ve been pretty productive with the ol’ writing this month, and fingers crossed that may continue. I love this stuff.

Like everyone, I’m always intrigued by the underdog as well as those who have shaped their own untraditional career path. For this reason; I decided to focus on the professional benchwarmer for my latest basketball article. Those who play among the elite, but with none of the glory, fan love or respect. The worst of the best, if you will.

My choice had to be Robert Sacre. He became a fan favourite during his tenure with the Lakers and was permanently seen with a smile etched on his face. Sacre was a true rarity, where others may have become bitter, he remained good-humoured and stumbled upon his own kind of gratitude.

As a bonus, he was a cool guy on the phone with none of the usual ego which often comes when interviewing athletes, celebrities etc.

Former Laker Robert Sacre knows the struggle. Despite audience “MVP” chants at the free-throw line, Sacre was never an NBA Champion. There was no parade when he quit, no bronze statue cast, no jersey retired. Robert had limited minutes, never averaged over six points and was in the starting line-up just once during his final year. 

Surprisingly, Bobby’s grateful for his good fortune. Think about it. Being an NBA bench-sitter is still the best job in the world. A million dollars to train with the basketball pantheon? Sign me up. During four seasons, Robert even developed a “cool relationship” with Kobe (RIP.) He’s a lucky guy. It didn’t come easy though. 

Despite a lifetime of training, the lofty center barely skirted through. He was chosen 60th in the 2012 draft. You’d think a national star plus the son of an NFL player and a college basketballer, would be a shoo-in. But Sacre’s cognizant of how rare it is to ball with the greats. 

“Man, I’m blessed,” he stresses. “You’ve gotta have that mindset, no matter what. I learned a lot going in the NBA, even though I wasn’t always playing, just talking with hall-of-famers.”

Full piece over here.