Friday came and went. NBA veteran Tony Snell remained off an NBA roster that would not give him and his entire family the ten-year tenure they needed to qualify for NBPA’s premium medical plan covering his two sons, Karter and Kenzo, and their autism treatments. The story’s urgency has been elevated by comments from Inside The NBA analyst extraordinaire Charles Barkley and current Denver Nuggets star Aaron Gordon. While it’s true Snell could try again for the 2024-2025 season, the fact of the matter is that it’s a tough road ahead. The last time Snell played for an NBA franchise was in 2021-2022, when Snell shared stints with the Portland Trail Blazers and New Orleans Pelicans. Since then, he has played two years in the G League for the Maine Celtics. You can chalk it up to bad timing because the trade deadline is February 8th, and teams need free roster spots. Playing in the NBA is not a given, even if it seems Snell is well-liked around the league.
But what troubled me was the reaction surrounding Snell’s story and the assumption that he didn’t need the health care plan because he had amassed over $50 million as if Snell didn’t earn it by being one of the 1.2% of collegiate athletes that make it to the NBA. If you look at the requirements in totality, they are challenging to achieve.
The average NBA career is 4.5 years, so many players won’t hit that threshold. In Snell’s case, a team couldn’t just sign him to a ten-day contract because of how strict the requirements are to have a tenth-year count toward the premium plan.
Some immediately tried to discredit this story merely because he is a reasonably wealthy athlete — setting up camp at his wife Ashley’s TikTok account and claiming because certain expensive things have been bought, Snell’s family is looking for a “sympathy” handout. As if health care already has enough barriers to obtain and is still problematically tied to employment.
With athletes, we drop any notion of viewing the shared objectivity and plights they might have to go through because of their salaries. That is wrapped in seeing how the rich in society have different standards of living than a person who is just trying to make good on rent this month. It goes deeper than genuine contempt for the Jeff Bezos and Elon Musks of the world. Fans don’t tend to look at athletes in the totality of them being actual people with problems.
When they put the jersey on, we live, breathe, cheer, and yell at every basket, steal, and missed play. Once the jersey comes off, they are faceless and lumped into a holding pattern just seen as a mode of entertainment. If they weigh in on real-world issues without being rebuffed with “shut up and dribble” overtures, and in this case, they are well off enough not to see health care as a basic human need.
“What could that point guard know about what I go through daily?” Once upon a time, these athletes weren’t on the Milwaukee Bucks or your favorite team of choice. They weren’t immune to life’s struggles then and aren’t now. Snell’s NBA salary is still insufficient for him to get the health care his family needs, so shouldn’t the real villain be the for-profit system that keeps raising the bar out of reach for even well-off people to gain access?
The average yearly cost for ABA therapy for autism can go upwards to $249,600 a year, and Snell has two children who will need that treatment. He may not be an athlete soon, and the paychecks from that profession will stop eventually, but he will be a father forever. By that standard, like any parent, you will seek to do the things to give your children the best lives possible. It’s a universal standard, no matter what background you come from. However, getting there would require some growing up on our part to note that health care should have little impediments to obtaining it, and athletes should fit into that equation as with any basic life necessity.
So, what do we do now? We can’t let Tony Snell’s story fade away when thinking about our relationship with the athletes we watch and the health care most of us are privileged to have. We should ask why you have to hit so many markers to have a policy that gives you better treatments for you and your family, an NBA basketball player or not. We can also take stock of our relationships concerning these personal issues with fandom.
We’ve all seen the Tony Snell stat line meme from his game against the Utah Jazz in 2017. Players, for the most part, know those things are par for the course. But when a player takes that veil down and expresses what he wants to do for the betterment of his family and how something can help, our first inclination shouldn’t be, “Well, what does that person know about pain?” We feel their anguish when they don’t hit that game-winning shot. Nothing should stop us from doing the same as they try to navigate difficulties when the stadium lights are off.
If you haven’t noticed, there’s been an avalanche of player-led media as of late — where not only do we get to hear a first-hand account of their strategies and thought processes within their careers, but those platforms serve as vehicles to get to know them better outside of the “athlete” cocoon. Players like Kevin Love have also been transparent about their battles with anxiety and mental health. They are inviting us to a bigger world that we have to acknowledge we are a guest in.
Whether it be Barkley, Snell, or any other player within the many professional leagues we get the pleasure of enjoying as these players put wear and tear on their bodies; a little bit of sympathy can go a long way.