Former Pacer David Harrison recalls The Brawl, says his life has ‘drastically’ changed

David Harrison shares a few stories on his blog and calls The Brawl “the quintessential event” that caused his life to shift.

Tomorrow — November 19th — is the 10-year anniversary of The Brawl between the Indiana Pacers and the Detroit Pistons.

Many Pacers were suspended and the events ruined the great chances the franchise had to win its first NBA title. It took a lot out of the organization for quite a while.

By now, you’ve likely seen the video and know the consequences. It wasn’t until 2010, six years later, that the team started winning at regular rate again and fans reinvested themselves with the team. They finally had a team they could support, be proud of, and a group that would make the playoffs.

The Malice at the Palace, what the events of November 19, 2004 have also been dubbed, were a terrible thing. 7-footer David Harrison, who was drafted by the Pacers in 2004 and played with them until 2008, wrote a couple of eye-opening blogs about the events and how it changed his life.

It’s worth your time to read. I edited them for easier reading and clarification.

(Warning: There is very strong language not suitable for children.)

Nov. 17: “10 Years Later and Still an outcast”

From November 18th 2004 until Nov. 18th 2014 my life changed drastically. The quintessential event that caused this shift was put on Front street in January of 2008.  I woke up in Phoenix Arizona with two things: a giant bag of weed and a pending five-game suspension for smoking it. The day before, I tried to tell our beat reporter what was going to happen at lunch but she wasn’t trying to hear it [and rather] just get information about our terrible team.  The year before, we traded away a playoff team for 1 starter and 3 bench players in an attempt to “lighten” things up.

It’s funny. In the year I was drafted, Larry says that the NBA basically needs a great white hope for better marketing numbers and he drafted me probably to avoid being called racist, but that was hands down the most racially motivated trade in the recent history of the league. After the trade, Golden State [went] on to the playoffs and we missed them for the first time in a over a decade, and the next season we just got worse.

At this point in Phoenix, I was done. My dream became a waking nightmare. My Coach hated me, literally would call me a homosexual in team meetings. The funny thing is if I were a tosser I would be able to find work in the NBA, or even maybe sue him for discrimination. All I had to do was say I was smoking to hide my gayness. I mean if Dwight Howard can say he beat his son with a belt buckle because it happened to him and it all [is] forgiven by the NBA, surely the inhalation of a plant to squash my homosexual shame wouldn’t cause them to put me on the blacklist. Not the awesome show starring one James Q. Spader, but the unspoken list of players that have the notoriety of being public enemy number 1. But on the list I went and off to China I was banished.

Back to Phoenix,  I went to the stadium that day for shootaround and got pulled aside by [Pacers President Donnie Walsh].  David, he said … I don’t even remember what he said next. The whole world started to fade in and out of focus. His face was full of nothing but disappointment and mine with nothing but shame. I was told to go directly back to Indy but I took a slight detour to LA.

I landed at LAX, rented a car, and began a drug binge that would have made Hunter S. Thompson proud.  I was trying to die “Leaving Las Vegas” style, but some force had other plans for me. I blacked out in my room at the Mondrian Hotel in Hollywood and woke up in my apartment in Indianapolis. Apparently I tried to jump off my balcony but one of the people I was with (who shall remain nameless but thanks) saw I was completely out of control and called my agent. They found me the that night and got me home. He describes the 4-day rager in a way that makes me think the movie “Get Him to the Greek” should pay me royalties.

I remember reading my coach’s quote in the paper when I woke up with a killer headache. His quote was about my suspension. “We weren’t going to use him anyway,” he said. I could see his smug face as he vocalized my worthlessness and instantly had that feeling once again, not violence or anger but pure rage. I had no drug or drink to stop it and all I waned to do was make the short drive to his home and beat his ass in front of his family, but instead I locked myself into my safe room and cried for hours maybe days.

I left the experience with a new goal one was to prove that ass clown Jim [O’Brien] wrong and the second was to get back on the straight and narrow, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t be allowed to win. I couldn’t win because if I did, then others may mimic my behavior or, even worse, respect me.

I didn’t see it then, but now I see it all from Nov. 19th 2004 (the night of the Brawl) until this bad relationship between me and the NBA ended I was fated to fail. I would say I was sorry but I would do it again so I attempted to explain myself.

I wanted to say that I hated my life and constantly thought of ending it; I wanted to say Jim was trying to bully me; I wanted to just let it all out — my mom being checked into mental institution, my ex getting an abortion, my problems wanted to flow, but instead, I tried to intellectualize the situation. I wanted to try to have the public view me as a patriot for the millions of minor, non-violent, drug offenders who were serving minimum mandatory sentences, a voice for those who were afraid too of the system, but all I did was catch the ire of David J Stern and his lackey Billy Hunter.

The year ended with us once again missing the playoff and me off to a rehab facility in Monroe, LA. It would be the best of times and the worst of times — and would be the straw that broke the camels back in regards to me being seen as a employable NBA player. And later, while in China, it would be the resin cited by the People’s Republic as to why I wasn’t to be allowed to play there anymore either.

Nov. 6th: “Malice In the Palace“

[excerpt below]

Practice would end in fights daily Ron [Artest] was normally the center of the problems. One of my favorite was the Bitch day. Ron made the announcement that if he scores on you, you’re a bitch.  So he and [Stephen Jackson] were going at it all day. “Bitch” as a three fell and Jack’s face was classic. He was about to lose it until [Jermaine O’Neal] spoke up. “Ron, yo we are teammates. You can’t go around calling people bitches.” “Well if I score on you, you’re a bitch,” Ron frankly responded. “He’s just hyping himself up,” Jack says. “He’s not talking to me. I don’t have a problem with it.” “Yes, I am,” Ron points to Jack. “I scored on you. YOU’RE my bitch.” “Now I have a problem,” Jack begin to walk towards Ron and the yell of Rick came over the crowd. “Nobody is a Bitch! Just run the cock sucking play!”  It was kind of funny when Rick [Carlise] spoke like that, EVERYTHING was either a cock-sucker or a mother-fucker. “You mother-fuckers are a team so stop with all the bullshit!”

By the start of preseason and after many team meetings — one ending with Ron telling Anthony Johnson that he will “Piss in a Gatorade bottle and make him drink it” — we were just that: a mother-fucking and any-other-type-of-female fucking team. Off the court, you couldn’t get us in the same room even threatening us with fines, but we would fight for each other tooth and nail. This brotherhood was going to be tested on that fateful night in Auburn Hills.

All I knew about (it) was that in the year before I got there, Reggie got his shit beat up and they lost the game by 2 points. The Pistons were the defending camps because of that moment and we were there to set the record straight. We were stomping them, at no point in the game did they challenge us. Ron had 24, JO had 20 and 13 boards, (Tinsley) had a solid line, and I had 6 points and 6 rebounds and was at the verge of checking back in the game when it all happened. I still remember looking up at the clock and smiling, I was killing Ben Wallace (a theme throughout my brief career) and knew I had time to get two more buckets on the severely-undersized defensive MVP, but I wasn’t the only person looking for a shot at him.

Ron had a grudge against him and with 45 seconds on the clock, [he] fouled him hard. (Those) two kind of [started going] at it. It (got) broken up and Ron comes over to the scorer’s table and lays down. The energy left as the refs assessed the proper technicals, but revamped after Wallace throws a sweaty headband at Ron. Then it happened.

Former Pacers assistant coach Chuck Person (left) and David Harrison (right) help contain Ron Artest.

A cup flies end over end and hits Ron directly in the face. I see Ron go int the stands and following him was Stephen Jackson. I wanted to go into the crowd and get my brothers out of harms way. I grabbed Jack and pulled him off of the guy he was pounding yelling, “It’s me, it’s me!” The whole time trying to avoid an eye jammy for my efforts. We fight our way back to the center court and then we made a break for it to our locker room.

Now that I have served my punishment I can speak on my actions. While we were walking out, this guy empties his as were were told to term it “liquid” from a cup directly in the face of JO point blank. The security guards all jump in front of JO creating a gap in between me and this aggressor. He was about to throw the cup at me and that’s when I fired a shot at him followed by a “forearm shiver” dubbed by the snitches at ESPN. I wanted it to break his face and did. I felt his teeth move when I made contact with my left and the “forearm shiver” took him out. But his friends didn’t like that and began to attack me. I went to the ground to grab the guy and use him as a human shield to the attack. Then, a very bright light and a bunch of pain happened.

Later I would see the cause of the light/pain was a chair thrown from the upper balcony landed on my head and the friends of the now bleeding and drooling man, crowded over me [and] began to kick me. Someone grabbed my by my ankles and pulled me out. I stand up to see a stick held dust pan being slammed against the wall right above the head of a security guard. Since we were blowing them out, prior to the end of the game the stadium security was called out to help with traffic. They returned to the stadium — not to help us fight off the fans but began to fight us.

After what felt like an eternity, we were all sitting safe and sound in the locker room. That’s when comedy ensued. Ron was walking around saying “(My) bad guys, I didn’t know we had so many real niggas on this team.” Then, asked the question “What you think we are going to get fined for this?” [Anthony Johnson] responds, “Fuck a fine, Ron, they are going to suspend us!”  “Awwww no!!! I don’t want to get suspended. Awww man. Aww man.”

I began to laugh at this moment but it ended quickly when JO went after Rick. JO was talking about how the coaches were not fighting with us and Rick chimes in with “Fuck you JO!” They both stand up and then [assistant coach] Mike Brown comes over and says, “Look JO I [got] hit in my lip, too,” pointing to his boo boo. Seeing Thomas pointing to his cracked lipped returned the sound of laughter to the room.

After a knock on the door, followed by a lot of heated words between our armed security and the local police, we were all told to go [get on] bus and lay on the ground once on it. Of all of the time of the fight, this was the only moment I was afraid. We were told to lay down because they thought that people would take shots at our bus.

We speed to the airport took the short trip back to Indianapolis and landed to 100s of Pacers fans cheering us on. At that time, I felt that we would be punished but had no idea that I would be the severity that it did. The night before, announcers like John Saunders, Tim Legler, [Stephen] A. Smith  placed the blame on the fans but like Magic comments’ were redacted and sentiment [shifted] against us, labeling us “thugs”, instead of a band of brothers.

My punishment [came] later when I was up for the rookie team and was not allowed to participate due to my involvement in the fight. It also came later on when after a 2-hour delay because of a bomb threat was called into the Palace, a fan ran down the stairs yelling something at me. Verbatim I told him to sit the “fuck down and shut the fuck up.” I was suspended 1 game. The only honor I take from the moment was the next game against the Magic with 6 players, we almost [won] and received a standing ovation from the Fieldhouse. It would be my greatest moment as an NBA player.

Unknowingly to me at the time, my life and career would continue the downward spiral leading to my exile to China.

——

Wow. Very interesting stuff from him on his blog. Hope you’re doing better, David.

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