by Steven Adams
As the seasons went on, I started to play more, and I guess I became known as a good interview because the media began requesting time with me more often. I was still not giving nearly as many interviews as Russ and KD, but more than I was used to. By the time I was the go-to guy with Russ at the end of 2016, I felt like I was spending half my days answering questions. But my one slip-up that got me in trouble came earlier, after game one of the conference finals against the Warriors.
We had just managed an upset win and I had had a good game so was ushered over to Chris Broussard from ESPN. The interview was the usual stuff, talking about sticking to game plans and executing, blah blah blah. Then he finished by asking what it was like for me to sometimes have to guard Steph Curry and Klay Thompson on the perimeter after a pick-and-roll switch. I laughed because we both knew I hated it. I told him I didn’t envy guards because “they’re quick little monkeys, those guys.”
I went back to the locker room, had a shower, and returned to the hotel. Then I checked my phone. Apparently I was a racist. I had to go through quite a few tweets to find what I had said to send people into a spin. When I saw it was the word “monkey” I was honestly just confused.
In New Zealand, parents call their kids “monkeys” all the time. Little rascal, little monkey, they mean the same thing—a naughty kid with too much energy who runs around endlessly. I had no idea that monkey had ever been used as a derogatory term anywhere. After googling it, I learned pretty quickly. My teammates thought it was kind of funny because it was just me being an idiot and not knowing anything. And they gave me a pass because I’m “European white.”
In the NBA there are three skin colors—black, American white, and European white. European white means literally anyone who is not from America. It’s a classic American move to assume that the rest of the world is all the same, so Tony Parker (French, but born in Belgium, with an African American father and Dutch mother) is European white, Alex Abrines (Spanish) is European white and, apparently, I’m European white as well. I wouldn’t have gotten a pass if I were American white, because that would mean I grew up there and should know the history of racial discrimination and derogatory terms. Instead I grew up in New Zealand, where I was used to being the one discriminated against.
Being Tongan and poor, I could basically say whatever I wanted growing up because I was only ever punching up. At Scots College I was one of the only brown students, and definitely one of the only poor students, so I was incapable of saying the wrong thing. People in New Zealand also seemed to care less about what everyone said and whether or not it was offensive.
I’m all for increased awareness and for being more sensitive to everyone’s struggles, especially when they are different from your own, but I also know that sometimes people really do just say things out of ignorance and not malice. I did that, my teammates educated me, I apologized, and now I know why what I said was wrong and I won’t say it again.
When I made that comment, America was in the middle of a shambles election. The whole country was divided, and it was a little scary seeing how far people went in their political beliefs. I can’t vote in America so I wasn’t really paying attention, but it was hard to miss what was going on.
Trump’s a dick; that’s obvious. But Oklahoma is a Republican voting state that backed Trump in the 2016 election. When people attack Trump, they like to attack Republicans too. I don’t identify as a Republican, but I understand some of the values they believe in and I also understand that I’m a well-paid NBA basketball player who doesn’t have to deal with the effects of policy changes in any real sense.
Some people look at Republican states and lump everyone together, saying they’re scum. It’s just a state like every other state and there’s a whole spectrum of beliefs, so really those who say that are the scum for being narrow-minded about it. I probably shouldn’t be saying anything about U.S. politics except be nice to each other.
I did vote in the New Zealand election in 2017. I didn’t even know one was happening until I went back home in the off-season and saw all the campaign billboards around. While I knew all about U.S. politics without even wanting to, I didn’t know anything about the New Zealand election. I had gone to the Beehive once to meet Prime Minister John Key. He was nice, but I have no idea if he was a good prime minister.
I wanted to vote in New Zealand, but I hadn’t read up enough on each of the candidates. In the end I voted for Gareth Morgan’s The Opportunities Party because he had a lisp and a decent mustache. Then I heard that after the election he was mean about the new prime minister’s cat dying and that’s not cool. I’d like to formally retract my vote, thanks.
That’s the weird thing about elections. They make you realize which part of society you belong in. Most of the time it’s either a race thing, a money thing, or an age thing. But during the New Zealand elections I realized that I didn’t belong in the categories I thought I did. I still think of myself as a poor brown kid from Rotorua. I don’t dress any differently than I did 10 years ago. I’ll still walk around the Thunder gym and out in the parking lot barefoot because I didn’t wear shoes for most of my childhood.
I wear my clothes until I have to throw them out because they’re too gross. I bought a camo jacket, like, two seasons ago and I’m still wearing that thing almost every day, to trainings and games and back in New Zealand. There was actually an NBA rule that players weren’t allowed to wear sweats or to dress too casual before games. I always wore the closest thing I could to sweatpants without getting fined. Then last year they got rid of that rule and I’ve been living the life of game-night tracksuits and camo gears ever since.
At first Dre and Russ tried to get me to wear nicer clothes to games. They said I was bringing down the style of the team. But now they embrace it. They know it’s my own unique style and they let me do my thing. My point is, I don’t feel like I’ve changed, even though to everyone else it probably seems like I’ve changed a lot.
It’s been a learning curve going from poor and brown to rich and white (according to the NBA and its fans), but I’m doing my best to use my new privilege for good. We do a lot of cool community stuff with the Thunder. The Thunder organization has one of the biggest community presences of all the NBA teams, which is something we’re all really proud of.
As a rookie, one of the responsibilities you have is going out and doing things in the community. Sometimes it’s giving out books from the book bus or reading to kids at a school, or having Thanksgiving lunch with a foster home. It’s all fun stuff because the kids are always awesome, but it took me a few years to realize that my presence could be inspiring for kids.
At first, I almost felt bad that they had to have the guy who sits on the bench most games, instead of them getting to see someone like Russ. I soon realized that they love all the Thunder guys and me being there was a thrill for them. Once I learned that, I made sure to be their favorite Thunder player by the time I left.
Outside of our team efforts, the front office always encourages and supports our own individual ventures. Russ has his Why Not? Foundation, I have my camps in New Zealand, Enes held camps in OKC. Almost every player has their own things they do to try to pay it forward.
Paying it forward is what I like doing. When I say that, I mean giving a leg up to people who are doing everything they can but could do with some support. There’s not a single successful person who didn’t get help from a bunch of people along the way. But I know that most of the people who helped me did so because they wanted to, not because they thought they might be rewarded later. When I made it to the NBA, those same people were so happy for me and proud to have been a part of my journey. Now I want to be that person for a bunch of other kids. It’s human nature to help others, and now that I have money and some influence, I want to use it to help as many people as possible.
My family don’t care what I do or how successful I am. Now they are just happy to see me when I’m home. My older brother Rob still insists on paying
for every meal we have together because that’s what big brothers do. It sounds kind of silly, but I love it when he does that because it’s one of the few times in my life these days when I get looked after in that way.
I believe there’s a sense of pride in doing as much as you can on your own. I know that if someone in my family bought me something and said it was payback for something I’d done for them years ago, I’d feel 100 percent disrespected. And I think it’s the same with them too. We want to fight our own fights, not get handouts.
I got a lot of help from people because they could see that I was fighting. I was getting up every morning and working to be better. And they helped me out because I was helping myself. That’s why I put on my camps and make sure everyone’s fed and try to get people connected with the right coaches. If I can see that kids are fighting and trying to be better, I’ll do whatever I can to help them along.
So, no, I haven’t bought everyone I know a new house or a new car or anything like that. But when a young player needs new shoes or can’t afford stationery or a basketball trip, that’s when I’m willing to spend my money.
After my second season in the NBA, I set up a scholarship with Scots College. It would be a full scholarship given to a promising basketball player. I told Kenny to pick the player he thought would get the most out of it, and we agreed it wouldn’t be an annual thing. Instead, Kenny would let me know each year if he had a big talent who would get a lot of help at Scots and I would pay their tuition and any other fees. Again, I didn’t want to throw money at something just for the sake of it, I wanted to make sure that I was supporting someone who was really working hard and trying to be the best.
It’s a responsibility I feel as someone with fame and fortune. The best thing about being well known is having a platform you can use to draw attention to worthy causes. I held a charity golf tournament the last time I was in New Zealand to try to get others who have wealth to put it towards helping those who don’t.
All my focus at the moment is on getting kids into school and sports, regardless of the social barriers, because that is effectively what saved my life when I was young. But I care about a lot of issues, and in the future I’m sure I’ll be using my platform to speak out on those. For now, I stick to what I really know, which is sport.
I know that being famous doesn’t mean I should be allowed a voice on every topic. There’s a reason people need qualifications. Yes, NBA players have influence and are important voices when it comes to speaking on social injustices. But at the same time some of us can’t even agree on what shape our planet is so I don’t think we deserve the ears of the public all the time.
To me, having a platform and resources is the best thing about my position. The things that fans think are cool, I’m usually not too fussed about. People always want to know what it’s like to be paid as much as I’m paid, and what I spend my money on. The truth is, nothing. I don’t spend my money on anything. I live by the “enough” rule. I make sure I have enough, and that’s it.
Aside from my home, I haven’t made any big purchases. At the end of my rookie season I bought two guitars and that was the closest I got to splashing out. I have everything I need to be happy and possessions won’t change that. I was happy living in Wellington, wearing the same clothes every day, playing guitar and video games in my spare time, and training as much as I could. Ten years later and I’m pretty much living the same lifestyle. The only difference is I don’t have to worry about money, which is a luxury I know a lot of people don’t have. I still wear the same clothes and play guitar and video games in my spare time, and train as much as I can. Isn’t it everyone’s dream to be paid to do what they loved doing as a broke teenager?
Right now, I’m happy. I have a dream job where I get to do what I love every day. I like my teammates, which is a big bonus. I have my own space where I can relax and have fun. But the main reason I’m happy is because I have my fight. My fight is what I call my need to be better all the time. At the moment, my fight is basketball. Every day I wake up and want to be better at basketball. Then every day I go to the gym and work towards it. My fight is what keeps me alive.
After my dad died, I didn’t have it. I knew that I wanted to do something, but I didn’t know what that thing was. And if a purpose hadn’t come along soon I would have started looking for something, anything, to feel a high. When I got to Wellington and Kenny said I would need to be at training every morning, I figured that must be it. I went in full steam and used it as a distraction from thinking about Dad.
Pretty quickly I got addicted to the feeling of improving and that became my fight. The end goal has never been the NBA, because there is no end goal. I just want to keep getting better. As long as I end each day knowing I’m better in some way than I was when I started it, I’m happy.
Having that mindset means I’ll never be complacent with my game. I know I can expand my skillset because I’ve seen guys like Marc Gasol go from being exclusively a big man to now playing all over the court. When I train with MB, I’m still doing everything you’ll see me do on court, plus just as much that you might not see for years.
At present I am doing well in my role and doing exactly what is asked of me. But the game is always getting quicker and evolving, and soon it won’t be enough to just be a good big man. That’s why I practice shooting from everywhere and shoot three-pointers every practice. That’s why I have been working on Euro steps for months, but you’ve only seen one in a game. That’s why I’m not afraid to defend on the perimeter, because I know one day my game will exist beyond it.
Every day I’m working to be better and every day I am better. You just might not see the results for a while because I have to make sure everything’s perfect before I bring it into game situations. Trust me, I will drain a three by the time I retire.
The flip side to all of this is that if I wake up one day and don’t have that fight to keep getting better, things will go downhill quickly. It sounds grim, but it’s fairly simple—the only thing keeping me alive is that constant fight, no matter what it is. As soon as I stop chasing something, that means I’ve given up.
The good thing is that I know there are areas outside of basketball where I can direct my fight. When I was at school and needed the grades to keep going with basketball, I put my fight into that. It was a slog and I now have so much respect for all those creative people working their brains harder than I work my body. It’s exhausting for me just to think about it. But it’s also something I want to improve on, so I can see myself going back to school and putting my energy into learning, which I try to do every day anyway.
I would absolutely love to be in the league long enough to get dunked on by a fellow Kiwi at the beginning of his career. How awesome would that be? It’s cool being the first New Zealander to do certain things in the NBA, but now that I’ve shown it’s possible, it would be even cooler to see other kids take it further. We have the talent in New Zealand, there’s no doubt about that, we just need the systems and pathways in place so that kids can stay on track and not lose out because they’re poor or live in the wrong city.
I want to keep growing my camps and to start providing more specialized coaching to the young players who show great potential. I was given the right opportunities and breaks in my life that allowed me to reach heights many thought were unachievable. Now that I’ve gotten to a place of excellence and privilege, I want others to join me. If I have my way, New Zealand will be a basketball nation among the best in the world before I die. That’s the kind of legacy I want to help build. I know my dad would be proud of that.
Ever since Dad passed away there have been occasions when I wish he could experience something with me—like the time I had to be taught how to shave by a friend’s dad instead of my own. During big games I’ll remember him and wonder what he would think about things. He was always such a straight shooter I’m sure he’d have some funny ideas about the NBA and fame. It’s not that I want him to be proud of what I�
��ve achieved, I’d just like to have a chat with him about what I’ve been up to. Hear his thoughts on how I’m doing. He was always good for a yarn.
Without him here, I just play for me. I play hard and train hard so that when I’m all done I can look back and say I was my best. For now, there are games to be played and rings to be won. There’s so much more that I can achieve, and so much more for everyone to see. So I’ll keep fighting until they tell me to stop. Then I’ll fight a little more.
First year of school, the tallest one at the back. I look cute but I definitely wasn’t the teacher’s pet. Adams family collection
Must’ve been about 11 in this photo. Even back then I knew my nuts would take a hiding some day. Adams family collection
The youngest ‘lot’ of Adams kids. L–R: me, Dad, Gabby, Lisa, and Sid. Adams family collection
Me and my old man. It’s a cheesy photo but pretty much shows exactly how I felt about him. New Zealand Herald / newspix.co.nz
The infamous Adams family photo. L–R: Warren, Rob, Barry, Ralph, Sid, Dad, Val, Lisa, Mohi, Paddy, Les, Gabby, Viv, Margaret. Next to Margaret and not in shot: me. Note the rugged basketball hoop in the background where I first learned the game. Adams family collection
With Blossom at the College Sport Wellington awards in 2011. Scots College archive
National champions, with Debbie Webb (far left), Bernice Williams, Chris (13), Victor (12), Jah Wee (6), and Joseph (8). Webb family collection