The swift turn against the Raptor’s All-Star reflects society’s worst ills – Toronto can do better
As Osgoode’s resident faithful Pascal Siakam fan, I have been recruited to write an article anticipating his return to the NBA after suffering a season-ending injury in May 2021. While I am eagerly waiting for his return, I cannot help but think of the terms on which he left last season.
Siakam’s ascension from limited role player to All-Star took the NBA world by storm. He was the underdog of the underdogs. As the last son of a religious family in Cameroon, Siakam was destined to be a Catholic priest until he had a change of heart. In contrast to most NBA players, most of whom have been playing basketball since they could walk, Siakam only picked up basketball when he was seventeen years old. Within a year of playing the sport, he was discovered by Luc Mbah a Moute who encouraged him to move to the United States and try his chances at making the league. Despite his limited basketball experience and non-American background, Siakam uprooted his life and made the move. At his prep school, Siakam went relatively unnoticed but ended up being scouted by New Mexico State.
In 2016, Siakam was drafted as the twenty-seventh overall pick by the Toronto Raptors. Much to the surprise of draft experts, who had soundly written him off, Masai Ujiri saw his potential. Siakam did not disappoint. He started his Raptors career playing in the G league for the 905. Driven by a hunger to fulfill his dream and make his family proud, Siakam worked hard to make the main team and earn his minutes. During the 2019 Raptors Championship run, Siakam established himself as the second scoring option to former Raptors superstar Kawhi Leonard and former Raptors All-Star Kyle Lowry. The Toronto fanbase became enamoured with Siakam (myself included)—as a city of immigrants and home to an underrated NBA team that routinely gets passed over by players and the media, we connected deeply with the dark horse, Siakam. Siakam was deemed an inspiration—a lanky boy from Cameroon who worked hard and capitalized on every opportunity, all the while staying humble and grounded. Siakam was easy to love, easy to cheer for, and… easy to turn our backs on when he let us down.
In typical Torontonian style, the fanbase placed incredibly high expectations on him without tempering their ambitions for Siakam with a healthy dose of reasonableness. After the quick exit of Kawhi, Siakam was expected to step up and be the number one option within a span of a few months. Throughout the regular season, we saw him struggle to fill this new role, but it was during the playoffs that things truly went south. A short but accurate description of Siakam’s playoff performance against Boston in 2020 can be summed up in two words: He sucked. While generally a player with high basketball IQ, Siakam buckled under the pressure—his offensive game was non-existent, he wasn’t rotating properly on defence and he suffered from a general lack of confidence. His lackluster performance was ridiculed on social media, with Twitter meme-ing his signature spin-move by calling him the “African Beyblade.”
Some criticism of his performance was warranted. However, social media reared its proverbial ugly head and the criticism, which started off as exclamations of general disappointment, turned into highly personal and racial attacks. Some Raptors fans claimed that Siakam’s deceased father would have been disappointed watching him play. In his second year at New Mexico State, Siakam received a phone call that his father had died in a tragic car accident. Nearly seven years after his death, Siakam’s pain over losing his father and not being with him in his final moments is nearly tangible any time the topic is raised. Since his father’s death, Siakam has dedicated every performance and charitable contribution in memory of his father. Only a few months before these comments surfaced, Siakam had publicly discussed his All-Star selection and how he wished he could have shared the moment with his father. The fans knew exactly what they were doing when they made these comments—they were trying to hit him where it hurts the most.
Emboldened by the relative anonymity of social media, some “fans” posted racist comments about Siakam online. A petition was created and circulated in Canada by Canadians, telling Siakam to “go back to Africa where [he] belong[s].” They called him the n-word. They spammed monkey emojis to his Twitter and Instagram accounts. Witnessing the fanbase sink to such levels was a shocking and perplexing experience for most Raptors fans. How could a fanbase belonging to a city that champions its multiculturalism treat Siakam this way? How could a fanbase that was righteously indignant about the cop’s treatment of Masai during the 2019 NBA Finals make such terrible comments? The fanbase’s hypocrisy was overwhelming.
The objective of this article is not just to highlight the revolting behavior of certain fans towards Siakam and the toxic fan culture towards underperforming players, but to also call upon Toronto’s fanbase to do better. Siakam has faced some growing pains over the past two seasons as he adjusts to his new role but one thing that has never changed is his attitude. He plays his heart out in every game, gives back to the community, and continues to be the same hardworking and humble kid on and off the court. Toronto—when Siakam comes back, let’s all give him some extra love, shall we? God knows he needs it after how the fanbase has treated him over these past two years.