Q&A: Thabo Sefolosha

The Swiss-born Rockets swingman has felt firsthand the effects of unwarranted police violence in America, but it's the second act of his story, he says—after the night in 2015 when NYPD officers broke his leg outside a nightclub—that speaks most to systemic injustices.

“It woke me up,” Sefolosha, 36, says of his glimpse at what happens when black men who aren’t as wealthy as he is—men like George Floyd—get swept unjustly into the system because they can’t afford a lawyer.

Following his own incident on April 8, 2015, in which then Hawks teammate Pero Antić was also arrested, Sefolosha was charged with resisting arrest and disorderly conduct, and he was offered a plea deal—the means by which more than 90% of criminal cases in the U.S. are resolved, often because of the cost of a legal defense. Sefolosha went to trial knowing that if he lost, he would face jail time, possible deportation and the end of his NBA career.

Five years later, he says of the Minneapolis police officers encountered Floyd: Had they been told Floyd was a wealthy man with the best lawyer in town on his side, “that incident would have unfolded very differently. That’s what I can’t accept.”

Jordan Naholowa'a Murph

SPORTS ILLUSTRATED: What does it feel like to be at the mercy of armed policemen who are abusing their authority?

THABO SEFOLOSHA: You’re powerless. What can you do? At the incident, I was telling them, 'There are six, seven of you. I’m not going to do anything.' I was trying to tell them: I am not a threat in any way. That’s all you can do in those situations. You try to deescalate. That should be their job. They failed to do that and I saw the situation escalate quicker than I could imagine.

Why did you turn down the plea deal? (If Sefolosha had pled guilty, performed community service and stayed out of trouble for six months, he would have received no jail time and the case would have been dismissed and sealed.)

TS: I didn’t really know in detail what happens in cases like this. My lawyer [Alex Spiro] was taking me through the steps. … Once I understood [the plea offer], it was, ‘I’m not doing this. I can’t let it get swept under the rug and admit some part of guilt.’ I was definitely not O.K. with that. I also realized how lucky I was just to have that option, to say, No, I’m not taking that deal. I’m fighting the case. Not everyone has that option.

You said you wanted to make a point by declining the plea deal. What was that point?

TS: That I was within my rights. I was not in the wrong. For me it was about my reputation and my sense of justice.

What do you remember about the build-up to the trial, facing off against the government, their resources, their air of credibility?

TS: It was a very stressful time, going against the state. I had a lot on the line. Maybe I didn’t even realize how much was on the line when it all started. Even though they had basically no case, I knew that going against the system was always tough. Lots of stress.

There was one black person on your six-person jury, in a city [New York] that is 24.8% black.

TS: I definitely noticed that. It was an interesting way of learning about all of this.

How did it feel when, after less than an hour of deliberation, the jury found you not guilty?

TS: (Sighs, laughs a little.) It was such a relief. Like waking up from a terrible nightmare, and finally you’re like: Wow, it was just a nightmare. Some anger too. It wasn’t a victory to celebrate. It was a victory to accept and move on from. When things like this happen, nobody is winning.

Why can’t a person of George Floyd’s means win the kind of justice that you won?

TS: The rhetoric is so deeply rooted. There’s a sense of patriotism when you defend the police. I think it’s noble, and it’s right. But I think with everything we’ve seen recently, the benefit of the doubt should maybe be not allowed—or passed along to the victim. I admire patriotism, but at some point you have to deal with what’s going on in front of you and not just go for the image that you want of the country.

After you won a $4 million civil judgment against the NYPD, you donated a portion of it to Gideon’s Promise, a nonprofit that supports and trains public defenders across the country. Why?

TS: Just going through all the different stages—from the time I was sitting in the precinct after I was arrested, hearing their conversations, the police writing the report; to the time I was sitting in front of a jury. ... The whole process woke me up to how easy it is for people to be seen as just a number. The D.A.—the way they do their job, it’s all about numbers. ... [Prosecutors] don’t want to lose at trial because often they’re trying to go into private practice; they need a nice track record. In my case, the D.A. from the very beginning was talking about how I did this and that, trying to influence the jury to see me one way, whereas her role should be to try and find out what the truth is. At the end of this, I thought: A lot of people are not as fortunate as I was to have representation, to have a great lawyer. Unfortunately that’s what it takes in America [to prevail], so I wanted to try and make a difference based on what I had learned.

What can other athletes do—what can society do—to enact positive change?

TS: Number one is [address the education system]. It seems almost barbaric that, based on where you live, schools are funded differently; that you have access to different things based on how affluent your area is. The other one involves economics. Everybody—not just athletes—spends money. Be careful where you spend your money. [Even if you don't vote], where you put your money is another way you can vote. ... Support black-owned businesses. Businesses that believe in helping the cause. If you need to repair your house, there are people who cannot find a job because of the things we talked about [unjust convictions due to a lack of legal defense]. Reach out to them and give them work. With corporations: What political campaigns do they donate to? What causes do they support? Do the homework to make sure you are spending your money where it will benefit what you’re fighting for.

Through your experience, did you think of all the black people who get caught in the criminal justice system, who plead out and get sent to jail or put on probation, which limits their job prospects, and the cycle that follows?

TS: I thought about them a lot. I’ve been in the U.S. for 14 years and I’ve met a lot of those people. For no other reason than being black in America, they have that repercussion for the rest of their lives. I understand why people are angry. It’s part of the system that people don’t really see. All the people who end up in jail for no reason, and the effect that it has on their families. Even though we see it every day, we don’t really feel anything, and that’s the problem.

You said that police too often behave as if they are separate from the community, instead of part of it. What about those who believe that athletes and other wealthy celebrities are separate from the community, and that they should have no input on these issues?

TS: That's laughable. Probably half of the people who say that—the “Shut up and dribble” rhetoric—voted for Trump. … Action has to be taken by everybody. [Athletes] are part of society. We should also listen to the person who sells cars, the small-town lawyer—not just the lineage of politicians. Maybe that would make a difference.

Your acquittal took place one month before the 2016 election. What is your reaction to the leadership in Washington during these recent protests?

TS: I’m not surprised by the leadership. Clearly, you could see which side the president was going to take in all of this. It’s not like anyone should be shocked. Honestly, I think we are giving him too much attention. ... [If he loses] the [2020] election, I don’t think people should stop and claim victory. When Obama was elected, I don’t think anyone should have claimed victory. It was just part of the fight. And the fight is going to keep going until there is sustainable change.