Desperate times
Petulance Progress
As NBA training camps open, one star remains resolutely at home: the enigmatic Ben Simmons of the Philadelphia 76ers. Angered by General Manager Daryl Morey’s willingness to get rid of him in a (failed) deal for James Harden, and frustrated at his secondary role in the the team’s offense, Simmons has made it known that he will never don a 76ers uniform again. To back up this sentiment, he is apparently willing to forego his $29 million salary until they trade him to someone who will have a little higher regard for him.
What’s not to like about Ben Simmons? A big, athletic All-Star, you’d think teams would be lining up with great deals for the 76ers to consider. But that doesn’t seem to be the case. The Warriors turned down the 76ers’ overtures, which were admittedly aspirational, with much accompanying ridicule from all sides. But Morey appears undaunted. He wants to win every trade he’s in, and with Simmons he’d be giving up one of the few people who can compare with Giannis Antetokounmpo in stature and physical capability.
Tantalizing as the idea is, the comparison is not perfect. Kevin O’Connor of The Ringer sums up the negatives:
Though Simmons is tall, fast, and powerful like Giannis, he doesn’t score like him. Giannis is one of the most dominant interior scorers in league history. Last season, Antetokounmpo shot 63.5 percent on drives to the rim, according to Second Spectrum. Simmons shot only 53.4 percent on drives, and in lineups without a center, he shot only 46.4 percent.
I would add that Simmons is clearly a fool, as evidenced by this humiliation at the hands of Shaun Livingston, who appears not overly concerned about the All-Star’s height and athleticism:
For other opposing views, look no further than Warriors owner Joe Lacob, who was fined $50,000 for stating the obvious in an interview last week:
“In some ways, [trading for Simmons] doesn’t really fit what we’re doing. He makes a lot of money. And, can he finish games? I don’t know… He’s very talented. The problem is: We have Draymond. Draymond and him are very similar in the sense that neither one really shoots and they do a lot of the playmaking. That’s one issue. The salary structure is another.”
Top-heavy
Ah yes, the salary structure. The Warriors have the second-highest payroll in the Association, with four max/super max players on the roster, and yet they failed to make the playoffs last year. No one complained when three of the big contracts were for Steph Curry, Klay Thompson and Kevin Durant in their primes, but those days are over. Curry remains undiminished, but the good news ends there:
Klay Thompson has not played in two years. His Achilles tendon injury means he will not be able to return to competitive play until late fall at the earliest. No one knows what he is now.
Past-his-Prime Draymond is back, fresh off his Olympic medal. He is not what he was, but played well last year after tanking with the team in 2020. His advocates says he is a champion. I would say: he WAS a champion. Today he is a good defensive player who doesn’t score much and isn’t as athletic as he used to be. He has not adjusted his attitude to these new realities.
Andrew Wiggins - acquired from the Timberwolves for D’Angelo Russell and a box of magic beans, he is a skilled and useful big wing with a humble demeanor. He was maligned in Minnesota, but played well for the Warriors last year - and who else on the team can guard LeBron? But, he is not an All-Star.
So the top of the roster is expensive and suspect. But surely the savvy Warriors have stacked the team with players that complement their stars: tough, savvy, veterans who know their role and always make the right play?
Um, no. The rest of the roster is: two mid-range rotation players, three lottery picks, and a few affordable veterans. Here is what we can expect from each of them:
Kevon Looney, 6-9, 25 years old: a solid defensive center with some physical limitations.
Jordan Poole, 6-5, 22 yrs old: hey, he’s pretty good, he can spell Curry. Nice sixth- or seventh man.
James Wiseman, 7-0, 20 yrs old: ???
Jonathan Kuminga, 6-7, 18 yrs old: ???
Moses Moody, 6-5, 19 yrs old: ???
What remains of Andre Iguodala, 6-6, 37 yrs old: ???
There are other projects and mystery ships (don’t sleep on Otto Porter!). But…the money’s spent, the team’s well into the luxury tax, and apart from Curry, not one of these guys can create his own shot. The Warriors will be seeing Box-and-One from here until May Day. I can only imagine what the front office is going through, searching for someone - anyone - who can bring some offensive punch for very little money.
A fateful call
It came to a head for me this week with a phone call. My trusty iPhone is dying, and the conference calls don’t stop. So I plugged in the old Motorola in case I needed a backup.
It was a good phone back in the day
I must have dozed off for a while, when the old Motorola suddenly came to life. Roused, I slurred a hello, and the high, cheerful voice of an old acquaintance broke in, calling me by a name I hadn’t heard in years.
- Hey Moose Jaw! How are you! How’s the frozen north?
BOB, the phone said.
BOB? Oh…Bob. LA, way back when.
- Bob, I’’ve told you - I’m from Alaska. Moose Jaw is in Canada. Interestingly enough their hockey team are called the Warriors, which…
- Ice water in his veins! Man it’s been a while since we we squared off in those pickup games at UCLA. Still getting your shots up?
- Yeah a few.
- You’re pretty tall right? I remember you were up there?
- Not quite as tall as you. How tall is Draymond again?
- (Pause) Six-foot-six.
- (Pause) Put me down for six-five.
- That’s what I thought! Tall guy! You know, one of our players saw you working out at Paly High the other night and asked someone about you. When he gave me the name I said I know that guy! That’s Moose Jaw, the Canadian Flyer!
- Alaskan…
- He said you were making everything! He said you’ve got a nice step-back.
- The step-back two is going to be the very next thing, Bob. All the cool kids are getting them.
- I believe you! Well you know, ha ha, I was thinking… We’re opening camp and I’m just looking for some guys to come up and bang a little with our rookies, get out there and mix it up a little….
- You mean, like…play organized basketball?
- Sure, why not, it’ll be fun!
- Bob
- Huh?
- Bob, I’m 59.
- Really…? I thought you were about my age….
- You’re 46. Our time is past, Bob. We must accept this.
I heard a heavy sigh come through the old Motorola. In the background I thought I heard the scratch of a pen, as if he were drawing a line on his notepad.
- Yeah, yeah…I guess we are. We had a good run though, didn’t we Moose Jaw? Well, it’s been been great talking with you…
A klaxon blared, and I woke up fumbling in the darkness. The clock read 5:00 AM. Another day, another conference call to the east coast. I (I thought to myself) am getting too old for this shit.
As I made my tea I glanced at the old Motorola on the table. It lay where I’d left it, unplugged, its dead screen staring at the ceiling.