The passing of longtime NBA commissioner David Stern has prompted impassioned reactions in basketball circles over the past week. On one hand, Stern was a visionary figure of far-reaching influence who transformed a second-class league into a global marketing force. But he was also a man who leaves behind a complex legacy, one that was captured in the comments that trickled onto my Facebook page when I offered my condolences.

“All I saw was a slave master when I saw him,” Mann Frisby wrote. “Sorry. It’s 2020, time for rich management/leaders to properly reflect the TALENT that’s generating billions.” Jamie Ayers offered a different perspective: “The analogy forgets a basic, fundamental factor, Slaveowners stripped Black men of every facet of their identity. David Stern propagated the idea that Black male athletes were marketable, intelligent and relatable. No other league has ever accomplished this feat to the extent of the NBA.”

The divergent reaction to Stern’s death, which I spoke about at length on my radio show The Collision: Where Sports and Politics Collide this week, asks the question: Should we be able to highlight the accomplishments of Stern while still pointing out the missteps he made along the way?

Definitely.

Like countless other NBA players, I have a vivid memory of walking across the stage on draft night and shaking Stern’s hand – a recollection that will be permanently etched in my memory. That moment is what every young basketball player dreams of: it’s your official welcome to the professional ranks.

But I also experienced an up close and personal view of the Stern that existed after the cameras are turned off. I was on the negotiating team for the NBA players’ union’s executive board during the 2011 lockout. I sat across the table in dozens of contentious negotiation sessions with Stern and the CEOs of every NBA team – I don’t call them owners – deliberating into the wee hours of the morning as we made oftentimes minimal progress.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest The author is chosen with the 12th pick of the 2000 NBA draft. Photograph: Courtesy of Etan Thomas

I recall one morning before a bargaining session, I arrived early and there was Stern walking around, looking out the window and having a pre-meeting snack. I don’t remember if it was peanuts or candy, but I remember him very intensely crunching whatever it was. He looked up when I entered with a piercing glare as if he was cursing me under his breath. Then he said: “I see Billy brought out the big guns tonight” – referring to Billy Hunter, then-head of the players’ union.

Then he walked up to me, shook my hand firmly, looked me in the eyes and told me – and I think he was halfway joking – that I challenged him in ways that made him want to strangle me. He also said that I had been a royal pain in his … backside throughout these entire negotiations. But then he gave me a smirk and a knowing nod of respect, which was all I was going to get from him, and he walked out of the room. It was a begrudgingly given expression I’d become familiar with over the years.

See, these labor negotiations were hardly the first time I challenged Stern during my decade in the NBA – and anyone who knew the commissioner knew he did not particularly like to be challenged.

• I’d felt the controversial dress code he enacted following the Malice in the Palace, the 2005 fight between the mostly black players of the Indiana Pacers and white fans of the Detroit Pistons, was playing to an overarching societal fear of black men and I didn’t shy away from discussing it. It bothered me that sports like baseball and hockey had bench-clearing brawls, but nobody was branded as a “thug” in response. I felt it was ridiculous to believe that by putting black athletes in suits instead of street clothes, that mainstream America’s perception of us would magically change.

• I felt the 19-year-old age limit for NBA draftees, introduced in 2005, was unfairly punishing athletes in a league that’s mostly black as opposed to the the majority white hockey and baseball leagues where young prospects turn pro without anyone batting an eye. Let’s be honest: what logical sense did it make to have no reservations in sending an 18-year-old to join the army and ship them overseas to fight in a war, but at the same time, tell them they are too young to play in the NBA?

• I believe he never took responsibility for Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf and Craig Hodges both being whiteballed from the league under his watch. I also feel he never took responsibility for allowing former LA Clippers head Donald Sterling’s well-documented racism and discrimination cases during his slumlord days to go unchecked and unpunished.

• I also challenged him on violating the collective bargaining rules by changing to a synthetic ball without consulting the union, and the NFL type hard cap he was inching us toward – where NBA players would become at-will employees like in the NFL.

I could go on. And as I look back on our battles, maybe I was a pain in his … backside.

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But I have to give credit where credit is due. Stern’s legacy is that he put the right creative minds together to market the NBA and turn it into a worldwide leader in sports. An important fact to remember is that when Stern took over the reins of commissioner in 1984, the NBA finals were regularly shown on tape delay. That’s only the start of what he changed.

He instituted a plan to skyrocket the value of each NBA teams. And it worked. For example, Abe Pollin bought the Washington Wizards – then the Baltimore Bullets – for $1m. Today, the Wizards are valued at no less than $1.6bn according to Forbes magazine.

Stern deftly marketed Magic Johnson and Larry Bird with brilliant narrative command – their friendship off the court, their vastly differing backgrounds – and promoted basketball as being the tie that binds. And it worked. Then he leveraged Michael Jordan and the Dream Team at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics with designs on making the NBA an international phenomenon. And he did just that.

The league as a whole became a worldwide juggernaut defined by megastars with international appeal. Today, more than a billion people across the globe tune into an NBA game every year. Much of this is again directly attributable to David Stern’s vision.

And as present-day NBA commissioner Adam Silver, who was mentored by Stern, said in a statement after his passing: “Because of David, the NBA is a truly global brand – making him not only one of the greatest sports commissioners of all time but also one of the most influential business leaders of his generation.”

All of this has resulted in players’ salaries rising to staggering levels that see athletes in other sports envy-tweeting during every NBA free agency period. The NFL may have higher ratings across the United States, but the NBA is a far bigger deal abroad. This is all down to Stern. That’s not an opinion, those are facts. And you can’t debate facts (unless you’re Fox News).

The David Stern legacy should be examined, discussed, remembered, critiqued, and honored for years to come. But it’s important to present the entire story. So to my Facebook commenters: Stern’s legacy can’t simply be cast aside like the objectionable odor of tyranny. Nor can he simply be seen through rose-colored glasses. But he must be remembered – and his impact will be felt for generations to come.