
Loyalty In Sports Is Dead
With the Celtics trading Isaiah Thomas, sports fans are forced to face an unpleasant reality.
One month shy of my eleventh birthday, I lost my innocence as a sports fan. During the six years leading up to my day of reckoning, I was fortunate enough to count the Red Wings’ semi-annual championship parades amongst my earliest sports memories. Between the age of 5–10, I witnessed the Wings win three Stanley Cups. For a child, consistent success comes with a price. Although winning lays the groundwork for a life-long sports obsession, it shields young fans from the inevitable fall from grace. The Wings success, combined with the team’s core staying together for seven years, made me believe consistency and trust were guaranteed.
That all changed on July 20, 2003. After failing to reach an agreement with the Wings on a new contract, Sergei Federov, arguably the team’s best two-way player, signed with Anaheim. At the time, while I was old enough to recognize the legacy Federov built in Detroit over 13 seasons, I was too young to consider the monetary and lifestyle factors that athlete’s weigh over fans’ ethical code. Federov’s departure was the first time I recall hearing the “Sports is a business” phrase, uttered by my dad as he attempted to talk me off the ledge.
In 2010, LeBron James forever changed our perception of loyalty after announcing he would join the Miami Heat. Sports fans were forced to accept that we care considerably more about athletes than they do about us. Over the next two years, we saw the ripple effect stemming from LeBron’s decision, as ‘Melo, Dwight, and CP3 also left the organizations that drafted them. Last summer, Durant’s OKC departure generated far less backlash than we assumed. While it took years for LeBron to escape the public’s wrath, Durant fled to Oakland unscathed. Essentially, the undeniable support of Durant’s decision solidified a belief we had failed to accept — there’s no loyalty in sports.
The phrase “sports is a business”, has become the “no means no” for sports fans. When really, it’s nothing more than a cynical excuse to stop fans from assessing player transactions with their heart. Aside from situations in which athletes leave under their own power, the phrase has forever been every front offices’ justification for parting ways with hometown stars.
On Tuesday, the sports world was introduced to a new reality, as the Celtics traded fan-favorite, Isaiah Thomas, to Cleveland for Kyrie Irving. I doubt that any of us, if in Danny Ainge’ position, would pass up an opportunity to acquire a player with as much potential as Kyrie, regardless of who would be put out for slaughter. On paper, the trade is impossible to refute. Kyrie is three years younger than Isaiah; Kyrie proved over the last three NBA Finals that he possesses a higher celing than Isaiah; and Isaiah is coming off of a hip injury.
That being said, it would be irresponsible to analyze the trade without considering what Isaiah did during his first full season in Boston. Specifically, he made the Celtics a championship contender for the first time since the KG-Pierce era; he averaged almost 30 a game and became the most popular Celtic since Bird; and Isaiah’s 2016–17 season ranked among the most explosive/efficient/preposterous seasons in the history of his position, while his production/efficiency/usage blend compares to Jordan, Bird, Malone, and any other Advanced Metrics Hall of Famer.
Most importantly, though, Isaiah’s unimpeachable legacy was cemented following the tragic death of his sister. Hours after learning of her death, Isaiah scored 33 points in Boston’s first Postseason game. Two weeks later, he produced the defining game of his career, dropping 53 points while steering the Celtics to a 2–0 series lead in the Eastern Conference Semifinals. At that moment, it would’ve been sinful to suggest trading Isaiah, no matter which player Boston would get in return. If anything, Tuesday proved that sports, like business and even, life, operates in a vaccum immune to any moral code.
Going forward, Tuesday’s trade may serve as the beginning of an era when every athlete is expendable. Loyalty may have died long ago, but never before have we seen an athlete, on the heels of a legacy-defining season, no less, tossed aside so shamelessly. Sure, pitying Isaiah may have as much to do with his gut-check performance in the midst of a personal tragedy, as it does to his statistical production. Then again, it’s hard to stomach the fact that after displaying such loyalty to the Celtics, while charting the organization’s path to future relevance, the Celtics selfishly may have thrown away lifetime memories in favor of chasing after the next best thing.
Before, it was easy to accept an athlete’s personal choice to depart for greener pastures, for we assumed that at the very least, our teams would stay faithful to the players who paid their dues. Instead, we’re now faced with the possibility that sports truly is business; a machine where success, by way of money, is valued over the satisfaction that comes from a shared alliegance between players and fans. Reaching the mountaintop will always be the ruling objective, but there’s a difference between accomplishing this feat with a bunch of players who were assembled with no regard to chemistry, and a collection of guys who had to suffer through on-court and off-court heartbreak before getting there. The front office may argue otherwise, but I guarantee every fanbase prefers the latter.
