What James Harden wants, James Harden gets. He has proven that time and again. For the third time in three years, he has forced a trade to his desired destination. And through all his pouting, he has made clear that he’s thinking of himself — or, rather, thinking only of himself. His word was law with the Rockets, leading to fractured relationships with Chris Paul and Russell Westbrook. He then moved to the Nets, whose superior roster allowed him to cast moist eyes on the Larry O’Brien Trophy. Injuries and ill luck then had him leaving Kevin Durant and Kyrie Irving behind and moving to the Sixers. And though he went on to claim the assists crown, he felt unappreciated and vowed never to see action again with the Sixers.
It’s significant to note that money was the trigger for Harden’s latest bout with wanderlust. In June, he asked for a trade out of the Sixers when he felt he was not going to be offered the maximum salary he desired. He opted in on the last year of his contract and then made his intentions known, in the process burning bridges with head of hoops operations Daryl Morey. Never mind that he and the latter hitherto had an extremely fruitful relationship. Forget that he had already earned close to $300 million in salary by then, precisely because of the said ties that went back a decade. As in countless other times, he wanted — needed — to be validated by his longtime supporter. And when he wasn’t, especially after taking a pay cut last year, he took it hard and cut all lines of communication between them.
Morey was, to be certain, not without blame. Since plucking Harden from the Thunder in 2012, he had catered to just about every whim and fancy of his champion. Even as he crafted rosters to feed the singular offensive force on the court, he enabled profligate activity off it. Hard partying would follow feats of athleticism, with the piling up of wins as justification. Which was all well and good, except for two items: disappearing acts in the playoffs were becoming too common to be ignored; and historic usage rates led to physical breakdowns. Age slowly but surely became a factor as well.
Perhaps public opinion would not be so hard on Harden had his quest for glory not been marred by unfortunate turns. Paul’s right hamstring strain late in the 2018 Western Conference Finals prevented him from guiding the Rockets to the title series at the expense of the dynastic Warriors. Durant’s ailments and, of all things, Irving’s vaccination woes saw him teaming up with them for only 16 of 126 possible Nets matches. Meanwhile, his otherwise sterling season with the Sixers was derailed by Most Valuable Player Joel Embiid’s debilitating knee sprain; after acceding to then head coach Doc Rivers’ entreaties for him to be a facilitator and winding up as the league’s assist leader, he was compelled to revert to his isolation-heavy self in the postseason, to predictably disastrous results.
For Clippers fans, the hope is that Harden will be mellowed enough by experience to buy into an approach that finally gets him a ring. Before him is another opportunity to reshape his fate as a hero and not a heel. Now surrounded by the likes of Kawhi Leonard, Paul George, and, yes Westbrook, he doesn’t have to carry a lot of weight on his shoulders. Given his predilections, however, it’s fair to question if he can resist the temptation of being, well, himself. And, under the circumstances, the answer figures to determine his place in National Basketball Association annals.
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.
