Ballin’ Without Borders: Should We Expect Loyalty From Athletes?
Sure, on one hand, these are people who get paid millions of dollars to play a sport for a living, but if your owner or GM is going to treat them as expendable assets, why do we get mad when they leave?
Let’s take you back to 2004, the year that the Raptors traded Vince Carter to the New Jersey Nets. The trade was *checks notes* bad, but the reaction to it and the collective vile towards Vince Carter was much worse. It was a long, strenuous relationship that only recently turned from hate back into love, but was it warranted? Maybe.
We tend to build deep, emotional connections with people who play sports for our city, people we’ve never met or spoke too. We commit to them in our minds and expect them to do the same. Despite the fact that each player plays in front of millions of people, in our head, that connection equates to a special kind of one-to-one feeling between franchise and player. It’s a weird leap to make, but here we are.
Before the Raptors traded Vince though, they approached him with one simple question: who would you like as a GM. His answer? Julius Irving. What he got? Rob Babcock with Rafael Araujo in tow. Look, I don’t do fine dining often, but if I went to a restaurant and ordered a fillet mignon and they brought out a Fillet-O-Fish I would get the hell up out of that spot and never go again. I might even go on yelp for the first time and try to figure out how to score it negative stars. I’d be on the phone with every techie I know to make that happen.
Am I mad at Vince Carter? I was for a bit, but then again, I didn’t burn his jersey or anything (looking at you Cleveland). I didn’t even boo him, and even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t have done it while wearing his jersey (looking at you Indiana). I probably would have said something along the lines of “get paid young man,” and moved on with my life.
Fast-forward to summer ’17 when Boston moves for Kyrie Irving and adds Isaiah Thomas to a deal like a goddamn throwaway asset. The man who fought tooth and nail to get them to the Conference Finals and played the day after a severe family tragedy (I once lost a goldfish and refused to go outside for a week, and I’ve had many goldfish) got thrown into a deal like a sack of potatoes on a barter in the Middle Ages.
Franchises tend to treat players like expendable business assets, stocks that can be flipped when something of equal or greater value comes along. Sure, these players get more than amply compensated for their efforts, but who can blame them putting their interests ahead of everyone else.
I work a fantastic job, I like my job, I get to do a lot of creative things at my job and push myself, but if tomorrow, the Toronto Raptors or the NBA called me up and offered me a similar position with them, even if it came with a 5% pay decrease, I’d very seriously consider it. That’s the dream right there. So why should I blame Paul George for wanting to play closer to home in a city that’s going to love him (until it doesn’t). They love you ‘till they hate you. So you might as well look out for #1.
