Kevin Durant really screwed himself. It’s amazing.
A funny thing happened on the way to most assured success for NBA superstars like KD and LeBron James. Those sure thing, can’t miss teams they wagered on…missed. And missed badly.
Some of us saw this coming from the beginning. Durant’s legacy had a ceiling following his tenure with the Warriors, and he knew it. He was historically hanging by a thread–he had to go and form his own champion. It’s why Kobe Bryant shoved Shaquille O’Neal out of L.A. It’s why Scottie Pippen is taking shots at Michael Jordan to this day. Winning one or multiple titles as the best player and leader (aka the “bus driver”) holds great significance in the annals of basketball.
While LeBron has won an extremely unique championship for Los Angeles, it’s unlikely he would’ve predicted the crash landing his Lakers have seen in the two seasons since. Now his team is in disarray, hoping to be rescued once again that familiar combination of cachet and dumb luck.
Simultaneously, Durant hastily attempted to construct a superteam from the ground up and hitched his wagon to two of the least dependable stars the NBA has to offer. Naturally, he was left to battle the rest of the Eastern Conference on his own after James Harden quit on the team and Kyrie Irving chose is own principles over chasing athletic glory. Now KD is demanding a trade to…you guessed it—the teams with the best record in each conference.
After LeBron made it an acceptable practice for superstars to have unchecked autonomy, the league’s top players began spending their offseasons trying to manipulate their way onto each other’s team. But even the best of the best — the ones all but handpicked as running-mates by Durant and James — have serious reliability issues. Who could’ve predicted that the body and the mind would betray Anthony Davis and Russell Westbrook respectively? (Except everybody). Meanwhile, the shortcomings of Durant’s crew reads less like a basketball team than it does a reboot of The Wiz.
Sidebar: We pray that one day Ben Simmons would find courage, Kyrie Irving a brain and James Harden a heart.
James, Durant and others have approached the NBA like they’re picking the All-Star teams on TNT, only to enjoy extremely inconsistent levels success. Coincidentally, a quick looks around the league reveals the teams building their roster in a traditional, less manic way are thriving.
- The Warriors drafted and grew Steph, Klay and Dray, then traded for a key piece in Andrew Wiggins.
- The Celtics drafted and grew Tatum, Brown and Smart, then traded for a key piece in Al Horford.
- The Suns drafted and grew Booker, Ayton and Bridges, then traded for a key piece in Chris Paul.
- The Heat drafted and grew Adebayo and Herro, then traded for a key piece in Jimmy Butler.
- The Bucks drafted and grew Giannis and (essentially) Middleton, then traded for a key piece in Jrue Holiday.
NBA teams need to have realistic expectations of how they plan to navigate their way to a championship. For instance, teams in non-glamour markets need not overrate cap space. (What good is clearing two max contract slots when you’re in Minneapolis or Sacramento?) In contrast to the organizations mentioned above, with the exceptions of Miami and Golden State (if their market even counts), teams in the glamour markets that push all their chips into the free agency table year after year in lieu of building through the draft are mostly a collection of messes, one hotter than the last (see the Lakers, Clippers, Nets, Knicks, Bulls, Rockets and throw in the Hawks & Wizards if you want).
Why?
The concept of free agency on this level involves throwing major dollars after proven commodities, which is problematic when you consider proven commodities are usually older and more apt to break down. The bigger issue is players today mostly seem equipped with the Kevin Durant mindset:
“When I retire, I can’t get teased for not winning a title like Barkley on Inside the NBA every night, so I have to win one at all costs. And I’m not afraid to bail on a good situation in my prime for a new one if it means (maybe) getting a ring.”
A somewhat similar effect is being seen on the collegiate level. Immediately after “The Decision”, we witnessed more super-elite high school prospects joining forces for a single season, rather than being “the man” on their own team before turning pro. Sure, John Calapari and Mike Krzyewski did win ONE championship each as a result, but it’s the upperclassmen laden Villanova, Kansas, North Carolina, Baylor and Virginia teams that have been most successful in the last decade.
These 25-year-old hundred millionaires have been placated to since their AAU days. They’re also millennials in the 2022 job market, where the “Great Resignation” has taken hold of our nation. And they’re living in a social media world where the comment section on Twitter and IG can drive your decisions, or even dictate your happiness, if you’re not careful. There’s no way these players have the foresight to account for things like patience and continuity when constructing a team, nor can they possibly understand how difficult it is to build a champion.
But their general managers sure do. And now, so does Kevin Durant.
Durant, a man who voluntarily put a lid on his legacy, tried to “player empower” his way to another championship on his own terms and rolled snake eyes. And now, he’s virtually out of options. He’s already catching hell from the Shannon Sharpes of the world, who proclaimed, “He’s a runner, he’s a track star; he gon’ run away when it gets hard.” Where does four-time scoring champ turn now?
To Miami or Phoenix? His preferred destinations that had the best records in the East and West, which is what got him in trouble before.
To Golden State? The scene of the gross miscalculation that landed him in this spot and back in the shadow of Steph Curry, who just authored his finest moment as a pro.
To Boston? They’re coming off a loss in the NBA Finals, just like the Warriors in 2016.
To a random playoff team like Toronto or New Orleans? They can put together a competitive offer for KD, but it would serve as the ultimate sink or swim moment for the 12-time All-Star, who at 34 would be playing with four years left on his contract in a city in which he ostensibly wouldn’t want to live.
To Washington or Oklahoma City? Going “home” to a familiar environment sounds good, except he’d be too closely following the LeBron narrative.
To the Clippers? Where he’d be playing in LeBron’s backyard.
Or even worse, to the Lakers? Where he’d be hooping directly in James’ shadow.
The only other option would be to stay in Brooklyn (who would likely trade Kyrie, possibly for Russell Westbrook, whom KD left behind in Oklahoma city six years ago), and try to scrape together some dignity as he unhappily plays on a sinking ship, like the band on the Titanic.
Under which of these circumstances would Durant winning a title appease you? That’s honestly the main reason he’s doing all this in the first place. But it appears Durant has painted himself into a corner—unable to find a landing spot good enough to realistically win a title with him, but not too good so that he wouldn’t get the credit. And a spot that would provide him the template to adjust his narrative.
Players wanted ALL the power; now Kevin Durant serves as a cautionary tale—likely playing out his last days as a superstar in a situation that cannot possibly satiate his greatest insecurities.
The moral to the story: Like most professions, in the NBA, good help is hard to find.