Former NBA All-Star Chris Paul and referee Scott Foster have had a long-running feud, a mutual dislike so extensive that my colleague Ricky O’Donnell broke down the years-long history of it… in 2021. It has only continued since then, with Paul being ejected in 2023 for appearing to call Foster “a b–ch and telling reporters the beef was “personal” and tracing back to “a situation with my son.”
Why is this relevant? Well, Jason Quick of The Athletic dropped an extensive profile of Foster — and all the controversies that have surrounded his career, from his feud with Paul, to his previously close relationship with disgraced former ref Tim Donaghy — on Monday.
As an amusing aside within it, former NBA referee Bill Spooner made it clear that while Paul may have beef with Foster, it’s not just Foster who may not find Paul the most pleasant to deal with.
Or, in the words of Spooner… (emphasis mine, via The Athletic):
“I’m going to tell you, and I know you are recording me, but I get asked all the time: ‘Who are some of the tough guys, some of the bad guys?’ And when I tell them that Chris Paul, in my 32 years in the league, was one of the biggest a–holes I ever dealt with, they say, ‘Not Rasheed Wallace … or da-da-da?’ Nope. Nothing like (Paul),” Spooner said. “And they are like, ‘Oh, he seems like such a nice guy.’ And I say, ‘Yeah, he’s a great image cultivator.’”
That last part prompts an important question: Who is Spooner talking to who thinks Chris Paul has successfully cultivated an image to seem like a nice guy? Do these people not watch basketball? Do they only know Paul and his fake brother, Cliff Paul, from the State Farm commercials?
This is a man there is a three-minute YouTube mix of from 2021 that features him extensively screaming at referees dating back to his time with the Clippers; four teams and seven years ago:
This is a man who while with the Clippers would regularly try to game the rulebook by shooting from full-court while teams were intentionally fouling DeAndre Jordan to try and claim it was a shooting foul, then be incredulous when officials wouldn’t give him the call for the basketball equivalent of an intentional freeway brake check for insurance money. A man who regularly flops, commits some of the dirtiest fouls you’ll ever see, and is perpetually incensed when things don’t go his way (and even, seemingly, sometimes when they are).
Again, this is a man who takes the time out of dribbling during an active possession to yell at a referee before composing himself to set up Mikal Bridges for a (near) bucket:
A man who tattles about untucked jerseys to get points:
He screams at teammates during an active play. He screams at teammates on the bench. He has worn out his welcome with basically every organization he’s ever played for other than maybe New Orleans (whom he demanded a trade from), Oklahoma City (where he spent just one year) and Golden State (yet).
Our own Abe Beame, in a pre-playoff Paul profile, described the mercenary fixer’s unique, exhausting, manic, constant-drive-for-every-edge energy as well as anyone ever has:
This is why he is not a miracle worker, but a janitor. He travels the league, nudging and arguing, bleaching and scrubbing, begging and pleading young players on bad teams to learn the game, to realize their potential, dragging them to low seeds and bad playoff matchups over the stunning number of billable hours Paul has amassed as a player, with stunning consistency, regardless of where he finds himself. There’s some question as to how effective all this nagging is as a form of leadership. Other people, pale, human, flawed people, who have gone through their whole lives being celebrated and told how great they are, tend not to enjoy a relentless wave of their failures being pointed out and focused on with a microscope, and this explains Paul’s nomadic late career, why he comes into their lives for a time, then wears out his welcome. But there is no questioning how effective his unique brand of focus is in getting results that they will benefit from, in spite of themselves, for the rest of their careers.
When did everyone get so fucking delicate? Are you willing to do what it takes to win, or not?
So really, who, in the year 2024, is going up to Bill Spooner and telling him they didn’t think Chris Paul was an a–hole? Is it Chris Paul dressed as Cliff Paul, confused that his careful image cultivation didn’t work? I hope we get a deep dive into that one next.
