With Dame and Portland, Nobody Owed Anybody Anything

Damian Lillard poses in a uniform that, interestingly, does NOT say Miami Heat. (via NBA.com)

The agonizing, annoying, and interminable saga surrounding Damian Lillard’s future (or lack thereof) with the Portland Trail Blazers and/or Miami Heat came to a merciful end last month when Portland sent Lillard to the Milwaukee Bucks¹. It was always, infuriatingly, analyzed as a reductive, zero-sum, “one side must be morally right, and the other side must be morally wrong” situation that failed to consider human elements and diversity of thought. Multiple truths can exist from different points of view, but that doesn’t lend well to neatly concluding that any party to the ordeal failed in meeting their commitments to the other.

After the trade to the Bucks², the seemingly happy disposition of both Portland and Lillard proves that nobody actually owed anybody anything at all.

Damian Lillard didn’t ‘owe’ the Blazers anything. He didn’t have to play a minute on the court for Portland if he didn’t want to—that’s human agency. And, frankly, it would be preferable if he wasn’t on the court at all than half-assing it or playing a random, minimum number of games under load management rules (which Lillard himself doesn’t really need to adhere to if he doesn’t care about the related honors and bonuses). This has nothing to do with his astounding heroics performed for for the team in the past. He excelled at his profession, and now he seeks a new opportunity. Obviously he’s only entitled to the money on his contract if he actually plays, but it’s critically important to understand the subtle order of operations there. Teams owe players their contract value when the players show up to work; Portland wasn’t entitled to Lillard’s labor simply because they will pay him money in exchange. You, too, can walk off the job.

But it’s not a morality thing; it’s a transactional one. Lillard is not some bastion of sin to be as restrictive as he was with the trade request. But sucking down nine Rogue Dead Guy IPAs means you’re probably getting drunk. Actions, consequences, etc. We can reject the concept that Lillard has a debt to repay in Portland while also being incredibly irritated that Lillard’s demand to play in Miami, and only Miami, was supposed to make him immune to critical reaction. Dame exposed himself to disparagement from the fans that adore(d) him. Turns out that making unprecedented trade demands on the Portland Trail Blazers—which make it much more difficult to responsibly effectuate a trade—tends to upset fans of the Portland Trail Blazers. Quelle surprise.

Because the Blazers didn’t ‘owe’ Damian Lillard anything, either. While there’s a credible argument that stars produce on the court on a per-minute/per-dollar basis more than a max contract provides, anything extra a team does for its players is purely a faithful acknowledgment of the qualitative relationship the NBA has with its brightest stars. Every franchise has an incentive to provide players of Lillard’s caliber far, far more than just the money. But while max salaries in the NBA are inherently bullshit³, a trade demand isn’t a moral or financial debt that needs repaid. Satisfying such a request results in the player competing against you; all of the extra catering and kowtowing that might be owed to a star on your home court has no bearing when he’s trying to do it elsewhere. A team’s nexus immediately shifts to what’s necessary to secure the team’s future and the success of the players still on the team (and their jobs).

In other words, teams have a natural incentive to provide their on-court stars more than contract dollars. But teams don’t owe a specific non-contractual element to any player, and they certainly don’t have an obligation to make another team better for change on the dollar because of a player’s past performance. Now, could Joe Cronin, Portland’s GM, behaved better than not talking to Lillard for eight days when Lillard showed up to work out with the team? Yeah. But “don’t be an asshole” isn’t exactly written in contracts.

And, as it turns out, Cronin and the Blazers were always going to find an appropriate home for Dame. That just happened to be in Milwaukee⁴, a bona fide championship contender even before adding the services of the Weber State star.

Getting Lillard somewhere he could immediately compete for a championship was always a reasonable non-contractual goal for the Blazers to reach—and Portland didn’t fail to understand their obligations to Lillard when they deemed the ‘Miami or bust’ demand as unreasonable. The incentives worked as they should, without diving into whether Portland had some moral obligation to build Lillard a rocketship to Jupiter just because he asked for it (they don’t). We’re not exactly bringing about a wave of star players being exiled to Charlotte for no reason.

It is also ridiculous that agencies and players will ‘remember’ (he said, ominously) that Portland didn’t bend to every Lillard demand. The paramount thing players (and agents) care about is getting paid, man. If, say, Scoot Henderson kicks ass, and four years from now he has an opportunity to get generationally wealthy from the Blazers in a way that no other team can provide⁵, he’s not going to think “remember when Portland didn’t accommodate the very specific whims of Damian Lillard? I better take several dozens of million dollars less to get out of here.”

Ditto if the Blazers find themselves with the cap space and opportunity to sign a quality free agent; this hypothetical free agent is going to primarily consider the cash and opportunity available in Portland, not “Damian Lillard was traded to Milwaukee⁶! What does that mean for me?!” Team-building and championship aspirations drive player movement decisions, and as long Portland’s checks cash, the Blazers aren’t going to be some sort of No Fly Zone because they resolved the Lillard situation on their terms.

Portland is happy; Lillard is happy. Neither side repaid any debts to the other in reaching this state.

But the only people who were owed something—anything—are the ones who paid, and will always pay, the full cost of a standoff like this: the fans.

We were all threatened to not see premium, vintage Dame Time in any uniform. Portland fans, specifically, were left with an inner conflict between the competing interests of wanting responsible and intelligent rebuilding of the next Blazers contender, and wishing the best for a local hero who provided them with such joy. But regardless of what lip service Portland or Lillard said now or in the future, neither the Blazers nor Lillard had much, if any, incentive to consider what their actions have on these people who live and breathe for the escape and entertainment that Actual Basketball provides.

I’m not demanding that the feelings of the amorphous ‘fan’ become a mandatory part of roster strategy and/or player agency. But when nobody considers that they could (should?) owe something to basketball fans, fans will start caring less. The NBA is already seeing in current media rights negotiations that fans’ interest in the NBA cannot be relied upon as some stupid infinite-money cheat code. There are limits to the shit fans will put up with. I will always defend players’ rights to seek optimal playing situations in their very short careers, and I don’t care if teams prioritize their own championship aspirations rather than those of their players. But, eventually, their callous reliance on these respective goals as exclusive decision-making principle will push fans—and their money—away.

That will be the real cost of not owing anybody anything.