Free I May Be Wrong But I Doubt It by Charles Barkley

don’t know what or who it was. We got into a fight with some guys and ended up running, and I’ve never been that scared in my life. I never went back either. That was my first experience in California. Some guys I was with, we just wound up wandering through some bad neighborhood and met up with some guys . . . and we couldn’t do anything about it. The police couldn’t or wouldn’t do anything about it either. But that’s what happens in all-black neighborhoods. It wouldn’t happen in Buckhead in Atlanta, I’ll tell you that.
    I went to Buckhead a couple of weeks after the Ray Lewis incident happened. I got there on a Sunday night, and Buckhead was closed down. They closed the clubs for a while, the restaurants, everything. I asked a guy what was going on and he said Buckhead was shut down, completely locked down for a while on Sunday nights. They weren’t going to let people tear up Buckhead. That’s the power and influence that result from having wealth.
    Sometimes you need a reality check, just to be reconnected to everyday life. You need to be reminded of just how much money you have, and the issues you used to have to consider before you had any money. Sometimes friends will say, “Hey, man, I’m coming to visit you in two months.” And I’ll say, “Why the hell are you telling me that now?” And they’ll say, “Because I had to buy my airline tickets today, asshole, so it won’t cost a million dollars.” See, I have no perception of that now, because I never flew on a plane when I was on welfare, and now I’ve been rich for a long time and haven’t had to consider that. And since September 11, I’ve pretty much been flying in private planes. So it’s definitely a reality check when somebody calls me saying, “I need to keep this airfare under $200.” And I’m like, “Damn, you need to buy a ticket two months in advance to fly on this ratty airline? In coach?” See, I have no perception of that.
    I’ll tell you another reality check: Enron and WorldCom. Half the executives at Enron have participated in congressional hearings, but nobody’s in jail yet. They’ve stolen millions of dollars and hid it real good. And all those working people, some of them just working-class poor people, have lost their jobs, their pensions, their 401(k) plans, and they’re waiting there, like, “What’s next?”
    Nothing’s next, that’s what’s next.
    They stole poor people’s money. Rich people can steal shit and get away with it, that’s how the game works. How many people at fault for what happened at Enron and WorldCom are going to jail? And whoever does go to jail is going to one of those little fluff prisons for five years, and when he gets out he’s getting most of his money anyway. Who’s worse off, the guy who spent every damn cent he’s got to put his kids through school and doesn’t have his pension anymore or some rich thief who’s coming out of a fluff prison to pick up a couple of million?
    I’m a little sensitive about this whole thing because I’ve got so many friends from my playing days in Houston who worked for Enron. They’re all walking around like zombies, saying, “Hey, man, I lost my job, I lost my pension.” I know between fifteen and twenty people who worked at Enron, good friends in Houston. Lost their life’s savings. What recourse do they have?
    So even though I need a reality check every once in a while, I never lose sight of the fact that we make a lot of money. The average salary in the NBA now is approximately $3 million per year. Guys who can’t play a lick can make that. But it’s short-lived, and people are making a lot more money off of us than we’re making. Guys think they’re controlling the process, when all they’re getting is royalties. I know how much money I’ve made, and I know I was getting, like, 2 percent of shoe sales. And I’m thinking, “Damn, if I’m only getting 2 percent, and never more than 5 percent on anything, and I’m