In between regaling supporters about Arnold Palmer’s gargantuan manhood cowing other golfers in the locker room, promising to fix the Bronx’s failing education system by stopping schools performing transgender operations, and calling Kamala Harris “shit”, former president Donald Trump trained his blunderbuss of wit on the minority owner of the Dallas Mavericks this past weekend.
“Mark Cuban is a Loser,” he posted on social media, with just a hint of projection. “Wouldn’t take his phone calls any more while at the White House, and he went rogue. A weak and pathetic ‘bully’, he’s got nothing going. Really low club head speed, a total non-athlete!”
While only a true populist would know mocking the pace of somebody’s golf swing is the proven method for swaying blue collar voters in crucial swing states, the drive-by on Cuban was overdue.
For a couple of months now, the self-made multi-billionaire (every part of that description would spike the blood sugar of Trump’s jealousy) has been using his celebrity, gained from starring on NBC’s Shark Tank and being a raucous, often obnoxious character on NBA sidelines for decades, to torment the Republican candidate.
The 66-year-old has been speaking to friend and foe, in outlets big and small, about Trump’s hard-won reputation for welshing on debts, his unsuitability to lead, and his economic policy numbskullery.
“This lack of understanding of business is insane,” said Cuban of Trump’s plan to punish John Deere for having factories outside America.
“Put a 200% tariff on the American company moving some production to Mexico. But tariff Chinese manufacturers 10 or 20%, so that the Chinese products will be cheaper to sell in the US than the American company. Good way to destroy a legendary American company and increase costs to American buyers.”
His criticisms hurt Trump more than most because Cuban is everything he’s not, the genuine poster boy for American capitalism, somebody who started his first business fresh out of college then sold it for $6m. A self-starter who has traversed the country reminding audiences, “Trump doesn’t even know what the power of broke means. He asked daddy for money”.
Cuban convinced Yahoo to pay several billion dollars for Broadcast.com and cashed out shortly before the internet bubble burst. Having bought the Dallas Mavericks in 2000 for $285m, utterly transforming their fortunes and the way players across the league were treated, he just sold his majority ownership stake for $3.5bn while retaining control of the club.
A sporting plutocrat and serial investor, his resume is as speckled with glittering commercial triumphs as Trump’s is pockmarked by epic failures and shameful practices. Something the Republican candidate’s nemesis delights in pointing out.
“Trump University, Trump Foundation, Trump Soho,” said Cuban. “Just example after example where he ripped off hard-working Americans again and again and again. And to think, all of a sudden, he just changed who he is. Just not the case. Like, look what he’s doing f**king now, right? A mint silver coin. If you’re okay, if you’re a billionaire, right, are you going to be selling silver medallion coins?”
That foul-mouthed jibe about one more Trump money-spinning grift came during his appearance on This Past Weekend, a so-called bro podcast hosted by stand-up comic Theo Von. At a time when too many Americans choose echo chamber media to hear their own opinions delivered right back to them, Cuban has, very strategically, taken his message to venues where he can reach gullible demographics vulnerable to MAGA shtick. Like the young men who listen to Von in huge numbers. Similar thinking informed his decision to sit for an interview with Vivek Ramaswamy, one-time Republican presidential candidate turned shameless Trump bootlicker.
A member of neither major party, Cuban hasn’t contributed money to a campaign for nearly a quarter of a century, describing himself as socially liberal and fiscally conservative. Nine years ago, when Trump oozed down the elevator to announce his run for the White House, he initially loved the idea of a businessman shaking up the admittedly stale political ecosystem. At least until he got to know the person running a little better and discovered this was somebody utterly incapable of and uninterested in learning, taking advice, or doing anything philanthropic ever.
When Cuban cashed his cheque for the sale of the Mavericks, he spent $35m rewarding the club’s employees with bonuses based upon how long they had worked there. Life-changing money for many of them. That sort of noble gesture is beyond Trump, whose entire family are banned from being involved in charities in New York due to proven misuse of donated money. A sentence that speaks multitudes.
While the potential next president is flogging overpriced watches and garish sneakers to his cultish rubes at ludicrous markups in between campaign rallies, Cuban took time out from running the Mavs to start Cost Plus Drugs, a company disrupting big pharma and lowering prescription costs for struggling Americans. The reason why so many people can now pay $6 for antidepressants that otherwise retail for as much as $671.
Whether comparing Trump to Pinocchio on CNBC or dubbing his policies insane on Fox News Channel, Cuban has become the most vocal and effective surrogate for the often lacklustre Harris campaign. Nobody has spent more time this past few weeks shouting that the wannabe emperor has not now or never had any clothes. Yet, enough Americans may still go to the polls on November 5th somehow convinced they can see fine fabric.
