There’s only one reason Carmelo Anthony doesn’t have a team right now. It’s timing. He’s bad at it, and, sometimes, he has only himself to blame. After all, his talent isn’t a question; for all his deficiencies, he remains a gifted scorer who figures to be an asset in the midst of the National Basketball Association’s historic offensive explosion. Unfortunately, he has failed to read his options well, with his judgments clouded as much by competitiveness as by pride.
Take Anthony’s situation with the Thunder last season. Armed with experience backstopped by his status as a 10-time All-Star, he didn’t just refuse overtures for him to come off the bench. He laughed them off in a “Who? Me? No way!” stance that highlighted his stubborn streak, not to mention inability to grasp realities with requisite promptness. The result: a one-and-done playoff stint that thereafter compelled him to pack his bags. Certainly, it didn’t help his cause any that defensive stalwart Andre Robertson got injured midway through the 2017-18 campaign and shone the spotlight on his one-dimensional character.
To be fair, Anthony learned his lesson and looked for new digs with an open mind — or, rather, a half-open mind. With his blessing, the Thunder traded him to the Hawks, for whom he could have played meaningful minutes on the court and served as mentor off it. Instead, he asked for, and got, a buyout, intent on signing with a contender. He then latched on to the Rockets, on board with a sixth-man role and confident of his capacity to contribute to a cause that came within two quarters of making the Finals last season. Never mind that everybody not named Daryl Morey or Chris Paul knew it would be a monumentally bad fit.
That Anthony lasted just 10 games with the Rockets despite his complete surrender to any and all plans they had for him speaks volumes of the degree to which the partnership was doomed from the outset. The James Harden- and Paul-heavy system turned him into a glorified — and not necessarily best — catch-and-shoot option. Meanwhile, the opposition continually targeted him with switches and exposed his incapacity to provide a modicum of cover. And even as early losses were due more to injuries to vital cogs, the writing on the wall was clear for all and sundry to see. Championship aspirations are not fulfilled by employing extremely obvious sieves.
And so Anthony is now scrambling to get hired by a team — any team, really, at this point — in order to prove, if nothing else, that he still has the game to claim one of 450 available spots in the league. Again, though, the timing is off. Given practical and logistical hurdles, he’s not likely to be given a roster spot until after the trade deadline next year. And it’s telling that the Warriors, who have an opening and who can actually parlay his skills to advantage in light of their playing style, have already said no to him.
At this point, it’s anybody’s guess where Anthony ends up, and how. Not a few quarters have advised him to hang up his jersey, especially with everything going downhill from here on. With tempered expectations, though, who knows? He may yet carve a second career as a important veteran presence a la Vince Carter. The future is unwritten, and the way it ends up depends on whether what he wants dovetails with what he’s willing to accept.
Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994.
