Name of the game: Hoops and music

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Grammy Award-winning recording artist and Charlotte Hornets minority owner J. Cole uses music and sports to fuel his competitive side.

Damian Lillard was unavailable for post-game basketball questions, but all ears to talk music.

“Walk with me,” he said.

Sifting through the bellows of Spectrum Arena towards the Milwaukee Bucks’ team bus, a reporter asked Lillard about beats blaring through NBA arenas, and if he was freestyling in his head when bringing the ball up the court or hitting a step-back three-pointer.

On occasion, they intersect, but whether it results in an ankle-breaking highlight or 16 bars depends on the day.

Lillard doesn’t need sheet music; he can play piano by ear. Just like he doesn’t need a screen crossing the half court line; he can make a shot 35 feet away from the basket.

Music and basketball are a duo that dates back to the early 1980s. Whether it’s holding the mic, shooting the ball or dabbling with an instrument, it’s an interchangeable connection that continues to unfold.

“Sports and music are so synonymous, ‘cause we want to be them and they want to be us,” Aubrey Graham said on his 2010 track titled ‘Thank Me Now.’

For NBA top 75 players Kevin Durant and Lillard, music is an outlet and a safe space. A form of therapy, according to Durant. From playing in arenas with beats blaring, and boomboxes on team planes and in locker rooms, to shutting out the noise and drowning out the crowd – there’s a clear connection. And a great one, at that, according to UNC Chapel Hill head coach Hubert Davis.

“There is a great connection – all of us love music, and all those different artists come to our games, and we get an opportunity to meet and develop relationships with them,” he said.

Drafted in 1992 by the New York Knicks, Davis, whose father played basketball at Johnson C. Smith University, was center stage at the mecca of music and basketball. Although not a musician himself, Davis felt the affinity as a player in an era with aspiring artists Allen Iverson, Shaquille O’Neal, Steven Jackson, Troy Hudson and Kobe Bryant among others. Even then, athletes wanted to be artists – usually rappers – and artists wanted to be athletes.

“In some sense, we’re all entertainers,” Davis said. “Being able to develop relationships and to be able to have those relationships is something that’s really important. It’s always been, whether it’s music and basketball, there’s always been a connection and I think there always will be.”

The most successful transition from athlete to musician isn’t in rap, though. Waymon  Tisdale, who played with three NBA teams from 1985-97, went on to a successful career as a bass guitarist with a top-selling contemporary jazz album among eight releases.

With celebrity row decorated with artists on the NBA’s biggest stages, complimented by private sections and suites with star athletes attending their favorite artists shows, it’s a crossover better than Linkin Park and Jay-Z could have imagined. Whether in the booth or on the court – or working on his shooting form in the club – Durant finds solace in sound.

“It’s like a (safe space). I’m not trying to be a musician, I just do it for therapeutic reasons,” Durant said. “I get in (the studio) and have a little fun. Whoever wants to get in there with me, it’s just a good time.”

Competing among the best

While there isn’t another specific artist – or athlete – that Durant wants to get in the studio with, that’s not the case with basketball. It’s the competition that keeps Durant locked in the gym on his days off – much like Charlotte Hornets minority owner and Grammy-Award winner J. Cole at the studio.

Cole, who purchased a stake in the Hornets on a team of investors led by Rick Schnall and Gabe Plotkin in 2023, has released six studio albums, sold billions of copies worldwide, and toured the globe stemming from his passion to pick up a pen.

Despite his illustrious rapping and producing career, Cole still couldn’t let go of his infatuation for basketball, he told Durant and Eddie Gonzales on Durant’s “The Execs” podcast.

“I know for myself, I was so competitive early on that even though we were all friends, I’ve never been the one to reach out,” he said. “I’ve never been that person, especially when there’s competition involved because it’s like, I’m over here doing what I do. It’s almost like working out together. Like in the NBA in the past, it was unheard of. Like why would I work out with this (expletive)? I’m trying to destroy this (expletive).”

The hours the Fayetteville native spent writing and manufacturing tracks are unmeasurable. But while he put his hoop dreams on the backburner early in his meteoric rise to the top of the charts, it never left his process.

Hours well spent

“There was a revelation and it all stems from basketball,” Cole said in a SLAM Magazine interview. “So, once I have that realization, I’m like, do you really want to look back and say that the reason why you didn’t make it in rapping is because you didn’t put the work in? Like, yeah, you got some songs. Yeah, you got some verses, but are you writing every day? Are you treating this (expletive) like a sport?

“That’s when my mentality switched. Every day I started writing verses, treating that (expletive) like a sport. Like, I got to put up shots every day. Even if this verse never makes it, I’m just trying (expletive) out in this verse. It’s just to get better and hone my craft. So, when I did that, I noticed myself get even better, quicker. But now fast forward, now I have the tools to know that, like, oh, this is just a sport.

“If you ever get rusty in rap, it’s because you’re not polishing. You’re not doing the work, you’re not practicing. You’re not putting the hours into your craft, because anybody can get sharp if you put the hours in.”

That is the parallel. The obsession with putting together his next album and molding his on-court game were synonymous. Enough that Cole spent 2020 preparing to play professional basketball overseas with the Rwanda-based Patriots Basketball Club in the Basketball Africa League for a three-game stint. After a second professional stop with the Canadian Elite Basketball League’s Scarborough Shooting Stars in 2022, Cole’s professional basketball career has seemingly concluded.

It all came down to time.

“The main parallel that I always draw between music and basketball is it’s just a matter of hours,” Cole told SLAM magazine. “The difference between the pro guy that sits on the bench and the superstar, it’s just a matter of intentional hours. They’re both really good, but that final foot of separation comes in the amount of hours that were put in. I think in order for any of those guys to be great, like LeBron, Steph, Damian Lillard, Kyrie, Kevin Durant, there has to be an insane work ethic.”

The success experienced by artists and athletes, whether on the court or in the booth – or both, in Lillard’s case – is a result of years of unseen training. Cole sampled one of Lillard’s iconic soundbites on the 2021 track “punchin’.the.clock,” which immortalized the most memorable moment of Lillard’s career to date.

"A lot of times, those situations are handled way before the time comes,” Lillard said of his 35-foot game-winning three to eliminate the Oklahoma City Thunder in the 2019 playoffs. “In the summer I think when you truly prepare yourself, with training and conditioning and things like that, when you cheat yourself, you fail in those moments – you crash. When you really put the time in, whether people see it or whether people will know it or not, it will always come to light.”

The hours of preparation, dedication and exhaustion bleed into competition, knowing internally that all of the time spent was worth it. But as all three mega-stars enter their mid-to-late thirties, it’s the love of the game and the people in it that keep the trio of Durant, Lillard and Cole at the top.

“As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that no one can truly relate to what I’m going through in life more than these people right here,” Cole told Durant on The Execs. “In terms of whatever pressures there might be, level of celebrity, family, privacy – nobody can really relate to that like these (other artists).”

The relationships

Durant, a two-time NBA champion and two-time Finals MVP, has no interest in pursuing a rap career. But the relationships that coincide, along with the release that is laying down tracks, keeps Durant in the studio – even during the season.

“I know my place in the rap (game). Plus, I make music with people that I actually truly have relationships with,” Durant told The Post. “I am not trying to get anything from it.”
That’s where Durant and Lillard differ.

Lillard, an Oakland, California, native’s obsession spans much further than 94 feet of hardwood. Now on his second NBA team, in Milwaukee, Lillard is still chasing goals both on the court and on the charts.
While prioritizing the details and effort working towards his first NBA championship, Lillard has his eyes set on being the first All-Star or max contract player to be taken seriously as an artist.

“First, I want to win a championship. I want to be MVP of the league,” Lillard told Rolling Stone. “But to win a Grammy? That would be tight.”

Lillard has toed the line of being elite at both crafts, donning an Olympic gold medal, appearing on the All-NBA Team seven times, and securing Rookie of the Year in 2012. He’s also collaborated with Lil’ Wayne, Snoop Dog, 2 Chainz, Rick Ross, Meek Mill, and  O'Neal, among others, on tracks.

Despite criticism by NBA media, players, and even rappers, Lillard is looking to get the most out of both crafts.

“My life has always had these two sides. I’ve always done music and basketball, and the way you keep it fresh is by having some balance,” he said. “When I can make songs out of these feelings, be creative and step away, and then come back to basketball after that – you can enjoy it and love it the way you should,” Lillard said in an interview with Bose. “I have to do everything that’s going to give me the best chance to be the best version of myself as an athlete, and then when it comes to the creative side of music, I’ve got to be able to take criticism with that as well.”

What’s better than one dream?

Two.

Still dreamin’

For most, it starts in childhood. Putting shots up in the driveway until dark, singing into the hairbrush, and dreaming that one day we could be the stars we saw on television. The passion that burned turned reality for some, and others just couldn’t let go.

When Cole’s music career commanded complete attention, the then-24-year-old promised himself if he could make it to the height of the rap game in just three years, he would still have time to chase his dream of playing in the NBA.

“It's like ridiculous dreams to the point of delusion until I (expletive) around and do it, you know what I mean? It just never goes away, you know, because I just love it that much,” he said.

Whether in the driveway or local court, the bus or hallway between classes - the sound of a swish or an 808 hitting on your favorite track will always bring you back to the dream. As time passes, the connection continues to unfold.

“You know, I'm just a ridiculous dreamer,” Cole said. “That's just what fuels me.”

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