Every segment of every culture has them: people you either love or
hate. There’s no middle ground, no equivocation, no take ‘em or leave ‘em. Take a poll to identify the most loved and most hated people in a
segment of society and these individuals will most likely end up near the top of each list. Damon Stoudamire is just such a person. Love him or hate him, there’s an indefinable something he brings to the table that just can’t be ignored.

     Without doubt, Damon has made many personal decisions that boggle the mind. He hasn’t always used sound judgment in the company he’s kept, in his off-court activities, nor in the way he’s packed his belongings. There have been times when we’ve all cringed at the latest Damon headlines. Some cringed in embarrassment, some in empathy. There is, of course, an old saw dealing with sins and stones, but we needn’t go there at this time.

     On the flip side of the conundrum that is Damon Stoudamire we get glimpses of a man who truly loves his community, a man who gives of his time and himself unselfishly. We see a man who works with and for children and the less advantaged. We see a player who always kept his head in the game even when he found himself at the very end of the
bench. For every negative story there has always been a positive story for those who wanted to find it.

     On the court the contradictions are just as sharp. Many will talk about Damon turning the ball over too much; others will note that his assist
to turnover ratio has always been commendable. Some will say he dribbles too much and takes too many shots, while others will point out the weak game plans of the last few years and the facts that Damon was always a shooter and that the Blazers’ management knew that when they traded for him. Those who care to dig will note that he had more assists per game and scored more points per game before he became a Blazer and will conclude that he sacrificed his own stats to become a Blazer and to return to his own hometown. There are, in short, good arguments to be made on both sides of the issue.

     Like everyone else, I have my own point of view. It seems to me that we, as a society, like to pigeonhole ourselves into our preconceptions. In the sports world that means football players are big and jockeys are small, chess players wear glasses, golfers wear ugly pants and basketball players are very tall. Now and then a person comes along and challenges our concepts. Damon, at 5’ 10”, is just such a person. When you are the shortest person on the court by a good 5 to 6 inches, you had better be something special. Damon Stoudamire, love him or hate him, is something special. As much as any other person on Earth, I like to root for the underdog. Damon Stoudamire, because of his height (or, more to the point, his lack of it), is an underdog.

     I have cringed at some of his bad moments, just like everyone else. I’ve wondered what he could possibly have been thinking in that airport, and I’ve wished he could have fulfilled a little more of that promise he showed ten years ago.

     I have also cheered when he was finally let into a game with three minutes to play, after sitting on the bench for 45 minutes, and found a way to help pull out the win. I have been happy for him when he came
back from a year of oblivion to post his best two years as a Blazer. Yes, I wish he could have been that productive during the winning years, but I’ve also been proud of the underdog who didn’t give up on himself when others did, and who didn’t give in to the pressure to just throw in his hand when times were the blackest. In short, Damon has my respect.

     I’m not going to miss Damon, but that's because I have my League Pass and I will watch a few more Memphis games than I normally would, just to see the Mighty Mouse. I began this by talking about polarizing people. Damon is without a doubt one of those people. In retrospect, I think it should be noted that the one thing all polarizing people have in common is that they are all interesting people. There are worse things a person could be.

- Ken Fuller