Two of the most enjoyable topics of conversation in the male (and some of the female) universe are sports and music. Sports are fun to talk about because any particular take on something can be either objective or subjective, yet whatever subjectivity you may have has the opportunity to be validated or disproved somewhere down the line, which inevitably creates another conversation. In music, takes are completely subjective. It’s all based on personal taste. No two people attain the same exact tastes in music, so it’s fun to talk about in both agreement and disagreement, even though every disagreement usually ends with something nonsensical like “He sucks” or “What am I listening to?? This band is garbage!” without much analysis behind it.You’d think it would make more sense to look at sports the complete opposite, by watching objectively all the way until the end result (The Super Bowl, World Series, championship game, or even just the end of a game or a specific player’s career), but we don’t. Our opinions always get in the way, we always have to have “thoughts” on certain “sports topics,” and we almost always have to have a prediction. It’s engrained in our psyche of bar top banter by now.
All of this is an integral part of why Tim Tebow has become such a phenomenon. Everybody had an opinion Tebow before he even stepped on an NFL field. Sports are now no different than music in that they have become highly opinionated topics of conversation. We have to express our tastes in teams, players, or any compelling figure before a conversation even consummates. You can thank the NBA and this guy named LeBron James for augmenting that. Love that game.
And just yesterday, in the midst of Tebowmania and all the Tebow topics infiltrating ESPN, a big question arose:
Cam or Tebow?
Other than the subjectivity within its consumers' tastes, you’re probably wondering why music is intertwined in this column. Let’s attempt to solve the abovementioned question by implementing cross-entertainment parallels between sports figures and contemporary music figures.
The optimal comparison for Tim Tebow is Drake. I know, it sounds weird, but let me explain:
1) Both were thrown into the mainstream almost immediately without having to prove much at the highest level.
2) Both gained immense popularity at the outset of their careers based on small sample sizes.
3) Both became -- and are -- polarizing figures because of their skill sets rather than their personalities (when Drake’s first album came out, you either loved him or you hated him with no in-between, but he's never been perceived as an unlikeable guy).
4) Both are now tough to figure out (Tebow is 6-1 as a starter and beginning to make his critics believe in something they never felt they could, Drake just released a great album that is causing dissenters of his overwhelmingly mainstream hip-hop/Cash Money Records sound take an extra listen).
5) Both are exuding substance (Tebow didn’t just improve to 6-1 as a starter on Sunday, he was legitimately fun to watch and put on a brilliant second half performance highlighted by this play; Drake went a different direction with Take Care by expressing triumphant lyrics, admirably defiant lyrics, lyrics of overcoming and staying true to himself rather than just expressing fame and money although he didn’t completely remove that subject matter, lyrics pertaining to Mac Dre and the Bay Area rap scene that he has fascinatingly started to embrace, intriguing lyrics referring to himself as an “Underground King” even though he’s nothing of the sort, lyrics giving merit to his city and every city, inserted more slow jams to complement his finely textured voice, sprinkled in some great party/club songs, and ultimately compiled an album that flows in and out of all those aspects almost seamlessly).
Cam Newton was fizzling out as a compelling figure and unanimous Rookie of the Year until his gaudy performance last Sunday and the new “Tebow or Cam?” stuff. Which is interesting, because a popular artist who shares some of Newton’s most admirable traits has sort of fizzled out in recent weeks as well.
Mac Miller may not be one of the best hip-hop artists out right now, but he’s easily one of the most commendable. He began as somewhat of a gimmick artist (like Cam in Auburn’s offensive system), playing exclusively upbeat, happy-go-lucky songs about a care-free lifestyle intended for the care-free high school student or stoner. All the while, he portrayed brilliant talent for an independent artist but never made it clear if he would ever change his style if he made the mainstream jump (much like Cam as a college quarterback). However, the most important attributes both of these figures obtain are their undeniably unfazed attitudes. Although it was uncertain if their styles would translate to the next level, their intangibles should’ve never been in doubt.
The only reason those doubts existed was because both were involved in prior “gimmicks” that didn’t seem sustainable, but that doesn’t mean the purpose wasn’t there. Substance lingered. Mac Miller isn’t going to be a 19 year-old, care-free living kid his entire life, and it's clear that he's cognizant of that now, but he’s still an independent artist who’s doing everything the right way. So when his first album got bashed and criticized last month, he still thrived. The quality mixtapes he released prior to Blue Slide Park (five in total) made his immensely devoted fan base feel obligated to buy the hard copy. The first-week sales were inevitable and unparalleled for an artist who’s risen to prominence the way he has. He climbed to that spot behind catchy hooks, a unique voice, an array of fantastic music videos on YouTube and a social media savvy that’s transcending the way artists make their mark. He’s all about his fans and they love his image because he’s doing the stoner kid persona the right way. He cares about putting on good live shows and even streamed his entire album release concert at the House of Blues in Hollywood over Ustream, which were both awesome and refreshing personal experiences.
As for Cam Newton, well, you should know my affection for him already. He captivates with his diverse set of talents, exudes a charismatic aura that every day is the “Best Day Ever,” is an undisputed leader, is never satisfied, takes responsibility, has made everyone forget about the controversy that swirled around him at Auburn because he says all the right things, has stared in the face of that disparagement only to “Smile Back,” has taken complete control of the Carolina Panthers franchise, and, oh yeah, just broke the record for rushing touchdowns in a single season for a quarterback.
The optimal comparison for Tim Tebow is Drake. I know, it sounds weird, but let me explain:
1) Both were thrown into the mainstream almost immediately without having to prove much at the highest level.
2) Both gained immense popularity at the outset of their careers based on small sample sizes.
3) Both became -- and are -- polarizing figures because of their skill sets rather than their personalities (when Drake’s first album came out, you either loved him or you hated him with no in-between, but he's never been perceived as an unlikeable guy).
4) Both are now tough to figure out (Tebow is 6-1 as a starter and beginning to make his critics believe in something they never felt they could, Drake just released a great album that is causing dissenters of his overwhelmingly mainstream hip-hop/Cash Money Records sound take an extra listen).5) Both are exuding substance (Tebow didn’t just improve to 6-1 as a starter on Sunday, he was legitimately fun to watch and put on a brilliant second half performance highlighted by this play; Drake went a different direction with Take Care by expressing triumphant lyrics, admirably defiant lyrics, lyrics of overcoming and staying true to himself rather than just expressing fame and money although he didn’t completely remove that subject matter, lyrics pertaining to Mac Dre and the Bay Area rap scene that he has fascinatingly started to embrace, intriguing lyrics referring to himself as an “Underground King” even though he’s nothing of the sort, lyrics giving merit to his city and every city, inserted more slow jams to complement his finely textured voice, sprinkled in some great party/club songs, and ultimately compiled an album that flows in and out of all those aspects almost seamlessly).
* * *
Cam Newton was fizzling out as a compelling figure and unanimous Rookie of the Year until his gaudy performance last Sunday and the new “Tebow or Cam?” stuff. Which is interesting, because a popular artist who shares some of Newton’s most admirable traits has sort of fizzled out in recent weeks as well.
Mac Miller may not be one of the best hip-hop artists out right now, but he’s easily one of the most commendable. He began as somewhat of a gimmick artist (like Cam in Auburn’s offensive system), playing exclusively upbeat, happy-go-lucky songs about a care-free lifestyle intended for the care-free high school student or stoner. All the while, he portrayed brilliant talent for an independent artist but never made it clear if he would ever change his style if he made the mainstream jump (much like Cam as a college quarterback). However, the most important attributes both of these figures obtain are their undeniably unfazed attitudes. Although it was uncertain if their styles would translate to the next level, their intangibles should’ve never been in doubt.
The only reason those doubts existed was because both were involved in prior “gimmicks” that didn’t seem sustainable, but that doesn’t mean the purpose wasn’t there. Substance lingered. Mac Miller isn’t going to be a 19 year-old, care-free living kid his entire life, and it's clear that he's cognizant of that now, but he’s still an independent artist who’s doing everything the right way. So when his first album got bashed and criticized last month, he still thrived. The quality mixtapes he released prior to Blue Slide Park (five in total) made his immensely devoted fan base feel obligated to buy the hard copy. The first-week sales were inevitable and unparalleled for an artist who’s risen to prominence the way he has. He climbed to that spot behind catchy hooks, a unique voice, an array of fantastic music videos on YouTube and a social media savvy that’s transcending the way artists make their mark. He’s all about his fans and they love his image because he’s doing the stoner kid persona the right way. He cares about putting on good live shows and even streamed his entire album release concert at the House of Blues in Hollywood over Ustream, which were both awesome and refreshing personal experiences.As for Cam Newton, well, you should know my affection for him already. He captivates with his diverse set of talents, exudes a charismatic aura that every day is the “Best Day Ever,” is an undisputed leader, is never satisfied, takes responsibility, has made everyone forget about the controversy that swirled around him at Auburn because he says all the right things, has stared in the face of that disparagement only to “Smile Back,” has taken complete control of the Carolina Panthers franchise, and, oh yeah, just broke the record for rushing touchdowns in a single season for a quarterback.
As with Mac Miller, Cam is just a kid. He’s a rookie doing all these things like a poised veteran. And his image is just as significant as his talents.
But couldn’t some of those attributes be used to describe Tim Tebow as well? People forget how polarizing Cam Newton really was coming out of the draft; he just managed to form everyone’s opinions and disprove the dissenters by week one of the season. Tebow says the right things, is an undisputed leader, is never satisfied, defies criticism, invigorates his entire team and has become the face of the Denver Broncos in the same way Cam has accomplished everything he has thus far with the Panthers.
So, back to the initial question: If you disregard your inherent subjectivity towards certain styles, it’s possible to like both Drake and Mac Miller in the same way it’s possible to like both Cam Newton and Tim Tebow. When I first heard of Mac Miller, I watched his “Nikes On My Feet” video and thought it was a joke. When I first heard Drake I thought he was an annoying Lil Wayne prototype. I started rooting for Cam Newton as an NFL quarterback before he was even drafted. When Tim Tebow got drafted in the first round the year before, I thought he was chosen ridiculously high but remained objective because of the same reasons I loved Newton coming in.
Now, I’m an official Mac Miller fan although I wonder which direction Blue Slide Park and his fame will take him. I love the path Drake took with Take Care, but wonder where he’ll go from here. I love what Tim Tebow showcased last Sunday, but wonder how far he can really go as an NFL quarterback. And, well, there’s Superman.
In other words, our perspectives and opinions on these kinds of figures always have the potential to change more than once. Players leave behind legacies when they retire, artists leave behind legacies long after they fade into obscurity. These things are what make these topics of conversation so endless and compelling. For now, our opinions are simply in good (or bad) taste.
But couldn’t some of those attributes be used to describe Tim Tebow as well? People forget how polarizing Cam Newton really was coming out of the draft; he just managed to form everyone’s opinions and disprove the dissenters by week one of the season. Tebow says the right things, is an undisputed leader, is never satisfied, defies criticism, invigorates his entire team and has become the face of the Denver Broncos in the same way Cam has accomplished everything he has thus far with the Panthers.
* * *
So, back to the initial question: If you disregard your inherent subjectivity towards certain styles, it’s possible to like both Drake and Mac Miller in the same way it’s possible to like both Cam Newton and Tim Tebow. When I first heard of Mac Miller, I watched his “Nikes On My Feet” video and thought it was a joke. When I first heard Drake I thought he was an annoying Lil Wayne prototype. I started rooting for Cam Newton as an NFL quarterback before he was even drafted. When Tim Tebow got drafted in the first round the year before, I thought he was chosen ridiculously high but remained objective because of the same reasons I loved Newton coming in.
Now, I’m an official Mac Miller fan although I wonder which direction Blue Slide Park and his fame will take him. I love the path Drake took with Take Care, but wonder where he’ll go from here. I love what Tim Tebow showcased last Sunday, but wonder how far he can really go as an NFL quarterback. And, well, there’s Superman.
In other words, our perspectives and opinions on these kinds of figures always have the potential to change more than once. Players leave behind legacies when they retire, artists leave behind legacies long after they fade into obscurity. These things are what make these topics of conversation so endless and compelling. For now, our opinions are simply in good (or bad) taste.
