Loyalty and the NBA

Loyalty exists in the NBA, but only to a certain extent. Like much else in sports, it’s a what-have-you-done-for-me-lately proposition. The ways in which two future Hall of Famers wound up in new situations– Golden State for Kevin Durant and Chicago for Dwyane Wade– confirm this.
So often in sports, there is an expectation of loyalty; that fans should stay devoted to teams through good times and bad, that star players should see things through with their franchises, and that front offices should return the favor. While this seems so virtuous in principle, it’s fickle in practice. Durant’s spurning of Oklahoma City and Wade’s divorce from Pat Riley and Miami brought this idea to the forefront of conversation in recent days.
Durant did plenty to show good faith in Oklahoma City. Fresh off a scoring title in 2010 he signed a five-year, $86 million contract extension. Still on his rookie deal, Durant chose not to include an opt out clause after the fourth year. This allowed the Thunder to retain him for as long as the CBA permitted. This was two years before the Thunder came of age with a run to the Finals in 2012. Durant believed in Sam Presti and the Thunder front office, and committed for the long haul.
The nine-year run with the Thunder was extremely successful; the franchise reached the Finals once and the conference finals four times. But the organization did not always do right by its former star. After its loss to Miami in those 2012 Finals, many believed the Thunder had just taken the first step towards a dynastic run with the core of Durant, Russell Westbrook and James Harden. But just before the 2012–13 season, Harden was shipped to Houston in what is now an infamously ill-fated deal. Ownership feared paying the luxury tax as they knew retaining their big three would be expensive. It proved to be self-sabotage, the Thunder never reached the Finals again.
Durant weighed this issue of loyalty long before he hit free agency and his stance was realistic. He told GQ in January 2015:
I was loyal. If it comes down to that, I mean: I was. My deal’s up in 2016. I’ll have been here nine years. I could have easily wanted out. I could have easily not signed the extension after my rookie contract. I could have not played as hard every night.
When players do stuff that benefits them, they’re looked at as [disloyal], selfish. But when a team decides to go the other way and cut a player, or not bring him back or not re-sign him, it’s what’s best for the team, and that’s cool. But what we do is frowned upon, you know?
These are almost prophetic statements now. Durant felt he had been loyal for nearly a decade but it had never added up to a championship. He saw Clay Bennett and Presti trade away Harden in favor of saving a few bucks. He watched Serge Ibaka get moved this summer. He probably believed Westbrook would leave town in 2017. He witnessed first-hand how volatile the concept of loyalty can be in the NBA.
Durant did not owe the rest of his career to the Thunder. Sure, winning a championship in OKC would have made for a great story. But he has a right– just as every person in life does– to seek more desirable employment. It’s a time in which selfishness is okay. He found a better job that gives him a stronger chance to reach his ultimate goal. It’s business.
If loyalty can be defined by showing allegiance, there are few people in today’s NBA that have exemplified this more than Dwyane Wade. The three-time champion had spent his entire 13-year career with the Miami Heat. He was the recruiter of the big three, the face of the franchise, and the greatest player in Miami sports history. Yet he was never the highest-paid player on any team he played for. Wade continually sacrificed for Pat Riley.
Seriously, one of the greatest shooting guards of all time did this voluntarily! Even while he was busy winning three rings,Wade was happy to leave cash on the table if it meant bringing in better talent. That’s part of what made the trio of Wade, LeBron James and Chris Bosh– and all the depth behind them– possible.
This summer, though, Wade wanted a max contract. He believed it was time for the Heat to pay it forward; he wanted to collect. When free agency began, however, Riley was focused on retaining Hassan Whiteside and securing a meeting with Durant. These moves, he felt, were more important to the future of the Heat than re-signing Wade. Making these kinds of decisions is Riley’s job as president and he shouldn’t be faulted for this thinking.
Wade, not wrongfully, felt disrespected; he forfeited money time and again, and did so to put Miami in a winning position, yet he couldn’t even get a phone call from Riley. This is what has made Riles one of the great executives of all time. He views basketball strictly through the prism of business. He left a winning situation with the Knicks for one he deemed better in Miami. He traded Shaquille O’Neal almost a year after winning a championship because he believed it was time to invest in younger assets.
Ten years later, Riley gave Wade the Shaq treatment. He saw what happened to the Lakers when they caved to the demands of the aging Kobe Bryant. His two-year, $48.5 million extension signed in 2013 will continue to cripple the franchise even after his retirement. This was not what Riley wanted with Wade.
As much as he loves Wade, he wants to win that much more, and he should not apologize for that. He sees the writing on the wall; Wade is a soon-to-be 35-year-old with bad knees and a diminishing game. Paying him more than $20 million a year is not a move that leads to the next ring.
It was Wade’s prerogative to not acquiesce this time, even with a two-year, $40 million offer from Miami on the table. Instead he took a two-year, $47 million pact with his hometown Chicago Bulls. After Illinois’ state income tax, the Heat offer would have been virtually the same (there is no state income tax in Florida). But by the time free agency was nearly a week old, there was no going back for Wade. He had to stick to his principles.
It was a beautiful and plentiful marriage, but it ran its course. The relationship was never again going to be beneficial for Riley, that’s why he didn’t appear to fight for the player he handpicked in 2003. It’s business.
Good Job, Bad Effort
Good job, Carmelo Anthony. It took a lot of guts to post this on Instagram. We live in a day and age in which athletes are hesitant to take a public stand on social and political issues because of the constant pressure to toe the line. In a very tumultuous time for our country, Melo is asking his fellow athletes to use their platform to help bring about real change without worrying about their bottom lines. In doing so, he’s putting himself out there to lead the charge without any guarantee of support from those within his community. As badly as he wants to win a ring, this — assuming it goes anywhere– could be the most important thing he does in his career.
Bad effort, @chasevin. This speaks for itself.