IT IS WHAT IT IS — BUT WHAT IT BECAME IS SOMETHING ELSE

Cam’ron, Ma$e, Treasure Wilson and the Business of Being Yourself

There is a funny thing about New York. We will tell you exactly who you were, who you became, who you used to hang with, what block you came from, what school you attended, and probably what sneakers you had on when you did it. New York keeps receipts!!!

So when I watched Cam’ron and Ma$e go from two Harlem basketball players I remembered from back in the day to running a successful sports-media operation out of Las Vegas, I wasn't surprised that they found another lane. I wasn't surprised by how well they drove in it. Because let's be honest: everybody has a podcast now. Everybody has a microphone. Everybody has an opinion about the NBA. Everybody thinks they're funny.

And somewhere in America, at this very moment, somebody is sitting in front of a ring light explaining why their favorite team is one move away from winning the championship. But It Is What It Is managed to separate itself from that crowded parking lot. And the reason isn't complicated.

Cam'ron and Ma$e sound like Cam'ron and Ma$e.

That might be the most valuable thing in media right now.

THE SECRET WAS NEVER REALLY SPORTS

Let's get something straight. You don't watch It Is What It Is exclusively because you need somebody to explain a box score. If that were the case, there are approximately 47,000 places on the internet where you can find that information before breakfast. The attraction is the personalities.

The arguments. The chemistry. The unpredictability.

The feeling that you just walked into a conversation that was already happening before you got there. Cam has never had a problem telling you exactly what he thinks. Ma$e has mastered the art of looking completely relaxed while dropping something that can start a 20-minute argument. And Treasure Wilson — Stat Baby — has become increasingly important because somebody has to keep the entire operation from flying off the runway.

Every successful show needs somebody who understands the rhythm. Treasure understands when to let the guys cook, when to bring the conversation back around and when to basically give them the television equivalent of that look your mother gave you when you were acting up in the supermarket. You know the look. Everybody's mother had it.

This is one area where I think people sometimes miss what Treasure brings to the program. Put two established personalities together and you can get fireworks. You can also get a traffic accident. Treasure helps prevent the latter. Her role has evolved along with the show. What began as an opportunity to contribute behind the scenes and step into the conversation eventually became a much more visible position in the program.

That's important because successful media companies aren't built around one personality. They're built around chemistry. Treasure has become part of that chemistry. And I like seeing it. Why? Because I grew up in New York. We know what happens when one person gets all the shine.

Eventually somebody on the block says, “Hold up, what about everybody else?” The best crews understand that everybody has a job. That's true in basketball. It's true in music. And it's definitely true when you put Cam'ron and Ma$e in the same room with microphones.

Now let's talk about Las Vegas. Because from where I'm sitting, this is one of the most interesting pieces of the entire story. A couple of New York guys building a sports-media brand and then establishing themselves in Las Vegas makes perfect sense once you think about it. Vegas is sports now. Not just casinos. Not just boxing. Not just entertainment.

The city has become a legitimate destination for professional sports, major events, media companies and athletes. So when the It Is What It Is operation planted itself here, it wasn't exactly moving into the middle of nowhere. It was moving into one of the fastest-growing entertainment markets in America.

And for somebody like me — a Staten Island guy who now calls Las Vegas home — there's something satisfying about watching that transition. New York energy in Nevada. That's a dangerous combination. We already have enough people here yelling at slot machines.

Now give us Cam'ron talking about the Knicks. What could possibly go wrong?

It's easy to have an idea. It's easy to tell your friends, “Yo, somebody should do this.” The difficult part is putting your own money behind the idea and finding out whether anybody else believes in it. Cam did that.

Eventually the audience showed up. Then the sponsors showed up. Then the major partnership arrived. And suddenly something that could have been another internet experiment had become a legitimate media business. That's the difference between having content and having a company.

One gives you something to upload. The other gives you something to build.

The partnership with Underdog Fantasy was a major indication that the show had crossed into another category. At that point, It Is What It Is wasn't simply being judged by whether a clip went viral. There was now a business infrastructure behind it.

That's a major distinction. Viral is nice. Viral pays attention. A sustainable business pays bills. The eight-figure partnership reportedly put the show on an entirely different financial playing field.

And that's where the story gets interesting to me. Because Cam'ron came from music. Ma$e came from music. Treasure came into the media operation. Yet the three of them were suddenly sitting inside a sports-media company. That's called diversification. Wall Street has a fancy word for it. New York calls it:

“Don't put all your eggs in one basket.”

I also think Ma$e's presence deserves more attention. Cam could have built a sports show without him. There are plenty of people who can debate sports. But Ma$e brings something you can't manufacture with a producer.

History.

There's an old familiarity between these two that audiences can feel. They don't always agree. They don't always approach a subject from the same angle. And that's exactly why it works. You don't want two people sitting next to each other agreeing for two hours. That's not a conversation. That's a corporate meeting.

Cam and Ma$e can disagree, joke, challenge each other and wander down some completely unexpected road. And because they have decades of history, the audience gets the feeling that we're watching a real relationship instead of two people performing one.

That's a huge difference.

Now I'm going to say something that might get me kicked out of the Dipset section of the internet. Cam'ron's biggest talent may not be rapping. There. I said it. And listen.... when I see the one Killa, I can recite most of his lyrics and every word from Paid in Full. So don't throw anything at me. The man's obviously a tremendous rapper. But one of his greatest strengths has always been understanding attention.

Cam knows how to make people look. He understands characters. He understands humor. He understands controversy. He understands timing. Come on y'all.... he from HARLEM. And, perhaps most importantly, he understands that people don't necessarily want polished.

They want believable. That instinct served him well in music. Now it's serving him in media. The microphone changed. The skill didn't.

Here's the part traditional media companies sometimes struggle to understand. The audience isn't stupid. They know when something has been overly manufactured. They know when somebody has been handed a script. They know when the laughter is coming because the producer told somebody to laugh.

It Is What It Is has benefited from feeling less manufactured. The audience gets personality first. Information second. Entertainment throughout. And that's why clips can travel.

One argument becomes a social-media clip. One funny exchange becomes a meme. One outrageous take becomes somebody else's morning conversation. The show doesn't end when the episode ends. That's modern media.

The audience does part of the distribution for you.

Now let's talk about something that would have sounded completely ridiculous when this whole thing started.

The Knicks. Champions. Yes, those Knicks.

After decades of jokes, heartbreak, questionable decisions, tortured fan bases and enough emotional damage to qualify as a New York City housing crisis, the Knicks finally reached the top. And It Is What It Is got to close Season 8 celebrating it. For Cam and Ma$e, that's more than a sports result. That's cultural therapy.

New York Knicks fans have spent years saying things like:

“Next year.” “Wait until we get healthy.” “We just need one more piece.” “We're building something.” Eventually, every Knicks fan has said all of these things. Then somebody finally wins.

So imagine being two Harlem basketball guys, building a sports show in Las Vegas, and getting to celebrate the Knicks winning the NBA championship on your own program. That's a pretty good ending to a season. And considering the history these guys have with New York basketball, it's almost too perfect.

Almost.

What I see when I look at It Is What It Is isn't just a successful show. I see reinvention.

Cam'ron didn't have to remain “the rapper.” Ma$e didn't have to remain “the guy from Bad Boy.” Treasure didn't have to remain behind the scenes. They all moved. That's something people don't talk about enough.

We get very comfortable putting people in boxes. You're a rapper. You're a basketball player. You're a radio personality. You're a producer. You're too old to start something new. You're supposed to stay in the lane people remember you from.

Why? Who made that rule? Certainly not anybody from New York. New Yorkers change lanes without signaling. We reinvent ourselves while standing in line for coffee. We move from Staten Island to Manhattan. Manhattan to Brooklyn. Brooklyn to Jersey. 

And sometimes, apparently, from Harlem to Las Vegas.

The point is: You don't have to stay where people first discovered you.

That's the question I have now. Not whether It Is What It Is works. We already know it works. The more interesting question is how big this thing can become. Can it expand beyond the daily show? Can it develop new personalities? Can Treasure continue growing into an even bigger media presence? Can Cam and Ma$e use the platform to launch other projects? Can they turn the brand into something bigger than the three people sitting behind the desk?

That's where the business mind starts thinking. Because the hardest part has already happened. They got people's attention. Keeping it is the next challenge.

And if there is one thing New Yorkers understand, it's staying in the game after everybody thinks you're finished.

Cam is Cam. 

Ma$e is Ma$e.

Treasure is Treasure.

Nobody needs to become anybody else. That's the formula. And maybe that's why the show has connected with so many people. Because underneath the celebrity, the money and the Las Vegas production, there is still something familiar about it.

Three people talking.

Laughing.

Arguing.

Breaking down sports. Talking crazy. Then doing it again tomorrow.

That's something I understand. I grew up around New York people. We don't need much to start a conversation. Give us sports, music and an opinion and we'll be good for the next three hours.

Give us a microphone?

Now you've got a show.

The first chapter of this story was about where Cam'ron and Ma$e came from.

This chapter is about what they did with it. They took history, personality, friendship, disagreement, entertainment and a whole lot of New York attitude and turned it into something that works thousands of miles from where the story began. That's not nostalgia. That's evolution. And I respect it.

Because at 53, I've learned something: 

You don't have to spend your whole life doing the thing people first knew you for. Sometimes the best part comes later. Sometimes the second act is better than the first.And sometimes two guys you remember from a New York gym end up sitting in Las Vegas with Stat Baby, talking sports while millions of people watch.

Life is funny like that.

So BiG UP to #MURDAMASE.

BiG UP to my man 50 GRAND #kiLLACAM.

And much respect to Treasure “Stat Baby” Wilson for holding the whole thing together while these two Harlem gentlemen turn every sports conversation into a family reunion.

Keep doing what you're doing. Keep betting on yourselves. And when y'all see me in Vegas, don't act brand new. Panko Pancho Fried Shrimps. #onDECK We all out here. 

RALLYVEGAS... #RALLYVEGAS #SinCityGeneral #OneManARMY #VEGASBABY #STAYBLESSED