The plot thickens. The Sixers’ decision to no longer offer James Harden as trade bait in light of the depressed market has him seething. Both developments are, to be sure, not wholly unexpected. What got longtime pro hoops habitues scrambling for information was his public pronouncement against the franchise’s general manager. “Daryl Morey is a liar and I will never be a part of an organization that he’s a part of,” the 10-time All-Star said during an Adidas event he showcased in China. For maximum effect, he repeated his statement: “Let me say that again: Daryl Morey is a liar and I will never be a part of an organization that he’s a part of.”
Considering previously strong ties between the two, Harden’s de facto declaration of war underscores Morey’s precarious situation. He wouldn’t have pandered to the crowd, which heavily cheered his utterance casting in an even more negative light a notorious personality in China, unless he was on solid footing. Heck, he purportedly went against the advice of agent Troy Payne, who rightly believed that the former Most Valuable a player awardee would be best served by burning rubber instead of holding out. Which, on surface, indicates that he’s willing to sit out of training camp, and beyond, at point of reprisal.
So what has Harden riled up? Why did he cast Morey as a liar? The obvious reason is that he was promised a max contract in exchange for agreeing to a sweetheart discount last year, only for the Sixers to renege on it in the face of his poor performances under pressure in the postseason. Wink-wink arrangements are, needless to say, illegal under existing rules. So if that’s really what happened, then he has leverage that he can use to finally be rid of the Sixer. If not, then he’ll be exposed as all bark and no bite.
Perhaps Harden was enjoined to speak out precisely to strengthen his bargaining power. Otherwise, he would have been at the mercy of the Sixers. Not that he isn’t already, and he won’t be for the foreseeable future. After all, his real power lies not in the threat of a sheathed weapon; it’s in actually wielding it. All the same, no one’s coming out roses. For all his maneuvering, he’s also casting himself as an immature baller on the downside of a spotty career. Maybe it will ultimately land him elsewhere, but at what cost to his reputation? If it’s shot now, look how it will be as the next chapter unfolds.
Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994. He is a consultant on strategic planning, operations and human resources management, corporate communications, and business development.
