Reconciling Andrew Wiggins’ “soft” label with his anti-vaxx stance

And what he’s helped me learn about Canadian identity

Fresh off his first championship ring, I’m happy for the star who declined his three-year commitment to Team Canada: Andrew Wiggins.

Wiggins was slapped with — and after popping champagne, finally defied — the ultimate pejorative term attached to him: the ‘s’ word. He was soft. He didn’t have a killer instinct; He was too nice; he wasn’t aggressive and couldn’t take over games; and he coasted on his athleticism — they said.

But Wiggins has shown a killer instinct of late. He put Canada on his back in last year’s Olympic Qualifying Tournament with two game-tying buckets against the Czech Republic. In the NBA Finals, he showed no fear dunking on the shot-blocking wizard Robert Williams.

Wiggins never lifted Minnesota out of the Western Conference’s basement, but high expectations are placed on a first overall pick. Considering some of the other players in the 2014 draft class, Wiggins didn’t turn out so bad. An elite role player who helped a team climb atop the championship mountain when most counted them out definitely does not scream failure.

Wiggins may no longer be “soft,” but I think his stance on getting vaccinated was soft, given how easily he caved in. In a press conference, Wiggins initially said he wasn’t getting vaccinated based on his principles. And after claiming his “back is definitely against the wall,” he threw his hands up, saying he was being “forced” to get vaxxed.

His position isn’t my focus of concern here, but it’s that his principles were established on sand. Either he appealed to principles as a way to receive a vaccine exemption or he simply didn’t have the balls, the kahunas to stand on his principles, whatever they were.

His decision was simply a pragmatic one. If he changed his stance in the face of different opinions or facts, that would have been another story (though anti-vaxxers would attribute Wiggins changing his mind as indicative of his softness). There’s nothing weak about changing one’s mind in the face of contrary evidence.

Here’s the irony: If Wiggins took a more Kyrie Irving-esque stance, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to destroy his ‘soft’ image on the court.

But even after sliding the Championship ring down his finger, Wiggins’ current identity is very Canadian — he’s defined by what he’s not. Who’s a Canadian? Not American. Who’s Andrew Wiggins? He’s not an alpha dog, he’s not a killer, but he’s also not (or no longer) soft. What’s his stance on vaccines and masks? He’s vaccinated, so he’s not anti-vaxx or anti-mask, but neither pro-vaxx nor pro-mask.

Identities are not always binary and a lot of truth is found in the mushy middle. As Canadians, we live in the mid-range. That might make us ‘soft’ — like Maple Jordan, we maybe too passive, too nonchalant, too indecisive.

There’s the tendency in Canadian basketball to define ourselves through an American lens. We can’t let them think we’re soft. But thank God, we live in less of a socially darwinistic experiment. Wiggins may not have the killer instinct of a player raised in North Philly, but he enjoyed a wider social safety net and free healthcare here. Dillon Brooks seemed unapologetic about breaking Gary Payton II’s arm in the Western Conference Finals, but personally apologized to him afterwards. Dalano Banton is an archetypal Toronto man but is also reserved, intelligent and vaxxed. There’s lots of nuance in a player’s game and personality — that’s worth embracing.

Athletes, especially our own, shouldn’t have to fit into the mold of being an American alpha dog. Basketball here has risen in spite of our inferiority complex — so like a son with a father complex, we need to shed ourselves from defining Canadian players through an American value-based lens. Instead, we can take pride in our penchant for being, you know, kinda like, meh. But when it’s needed, we can still throw nasty dunk on you.