“E’rybody got a story/We all ghetto, B/Here’s mine/See I was born in sewage…”
It would be nice to sit here and write that we told you so, America. Of course, that would be condescending, unethical…but f**k it, we did. We did it in ’96, making him the first non-NBA player to ever bless the cover of this magazine; giving him his first national media cover, period. We did it again in ’97, right after he won the Rookie Game MVP and the NBA put a “gag order” on his media privileges. 1998. 1999. Now, Cover Five. We exalted him to Jay-Z status, simply because, unlike the rest of America, there was no reasonable doubt in our minds that he was going to become a one-man dynasty like no other. What we didn’t know was that the rest of the country would see past the glaciers of ice and give AI love. He suddenly began poppin’ up on the covers of magazines that had previously wanted nothing to do with him, or, if they did, called him “basketball’s Mike Tyson.” All of a sudden his “image” wasn’t threatening, it was “marketable.” They started to accept him as he was. They knew there was money to be made off him. They started listening to the soundtrack.