The Rubicon (6 of 24)
Last night, I watched the Brooklyn Nets and the Atlanta Hawks play a regular season basketball game at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, New York. The Atlanta Hawks are my favorite team and due to our playoff run last season(1), we are playing this game on ESPN. The crowd and court was littered with stars. James Harden, Trae Young, Blake Griffin, John Collins, Stephen A. Smith, Penn Badgley(2), Daniel Cormier, David Beckham, etc. Jay-Z! My favorite rapper ever. But the entire game, the only thought that would not leave my mind is: “wow, I am really watching Kevin Durant play basketball.”
I have a complicated relationship with Kevin Durant. Of course, we’re total strangers. The primary tension has always been me versus my idea of Kevin Durant. An idea that he’s not responsible for and he has consistently reminded me of that truth over the majority of my adult life(3). Kevin Durant, the hero. Kevin Durant, the villain. Kevin Durant, the loser. Kevin Durant, the champion. Kevin Durant, the artist.
My first introduction to KD was through SLAM magazine. I was 11 years old. Issue 110, KD was on the cover standing opposite of eventual number one pick, Greg Oden. The cover promised of a “JUDGEMENT DAY” in bold electric blue lettering. The interior compared the two and SLAM comes to the conclusion that regardless of the order that they’re drafted, both franchises would have made the right decision ten years down the line. Unfortunately for Portland, it did not work out that way(4). I bought the magazine, the issue I ever owned.
After reading, I chose KD. Something in me told me he was special even if that wasn't exactly a secret to the rest of the world. When my older brother and I watched the NBA draft, I confidently told him that Kevin Durant was the best player in the draft. He scoffed and asserted that Corey Brewer appeared to be the better prospect(5). Kevin Durant went on to win the 2008 rookie of the year award for the Seattle Supersonics and averaged 20-4-2. It has only been up from there. An All-Star by year two. First team All-NBA by year three. Best player on a Finals team by year five. League MVP by year seven. He blew a 3-1 lead in the WCF to the Golden State Warriors in year nine. Then he crossed the Rubicon.
The Rubicon is a river in northeastern Italy at the mouth of the Adriatic Sea. Up until 1933, it was named the Fiumicino. Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon with his army in 49 BC, an act that triggered the Roman Civil War and Caesar’s eventual rise to roman dictatorship. The river was lost for thousands of years but its historic importance was re-discovered in 1933, thus the name change. To cross the Rubicon, means to make a decision that moves you past the point of no return into irrevocable consequences that often go beyond the individual. Kevin Durant did that on July 4, 2016 when he joined the 73-9 Golden State Warriors(6).
KD has never been my favorite player but I have always respected him. And for a few years, I actively rooted for him. He played alongside Russell Westbrook (probably my second favorite player of all time behind Kobe Bryant) on the OKC Thunder and they were electrifying at their best. At their worst, they weren’t just enough(7). Every summer ended in disappointment. On the morning of his decision, I surmised that he was done with the disappointment and needed assurances. And I was disappointed by that conclusion. There was a certain level of vulnerability involved in sports, an almost religious faith is required in order to be a fan of a team or collection of players. To put it simply, I was a bit hurt. I was vulnerable and Kevin Durant hurt my feelings. It sounds weird to say, considering the fact that I was 20 years old at the time. But in my head I had been on a journey with the character of Kevin Durant of 9 years at that point and he had betrayed my trust by refusing the vulnerability of the possibility of losing. To want the sure thing not only betrayed the competitive trust of basketball but it unsettled me. I had got him completely wrong. I came up with a character and I got him completely wrong.
Acclaimed sports journalist, Scoop Jackson, coined the term, “Kobe people.” To be a Kobe person is inane. You either are or you aren’t. We see Kobe play basketball and we get it. Our reference point for great basketball has the tendency to revolve around the artistry of the game. Skill set and flair often take precedence over resume or career output. I’m a Kobe person. Nothing is more important than what we see and how we feel when we see it. I think Kobe people have always had an affinity for Kevin Durant. KD looks like he was made in a lab to play basketball. Long arms, long legs, graceful runner, silky shot, tight handle. He is probably the most devastating combination of skill, finesse, and physical advantage ever amalgamated into a single player. And when it was time to anoint the “next” after Kobe, while the mainstream media was adamant that it was LeBron, the Kobe people were a little more enamored with the 7-footer with outside of the gym range. KD was scary and we loved him. But not for any of the reasons I already stated.
KD really gives a fuck about his craft. I care too much about a lot of things and it’s inspiring when you can see the rewards of someone caring too much about a craft. You get the feeling that nothing in the world is more important to him than basketball, even if that’s not true. During the 2011 NBA lockout, he was everywhere. Hooping, just giving buckets to anyone who needed them. KD lives and breathes basketball. KD, like Kobe, felt like a basketball artist rather than a player. He was an auteur and a vision on the court. Sure other bigs had been able to shoot it, but they hadn’t had his handle and quickness(8). Sure other wings had approached his skill level, but they hadn’t had his size(9). KD is a basketball enigma. On the court and off of it. There is only one him and I feel as though I can confidently say there will never be another(10).
Everything felt differently when he crossed the Rubicon and joined the Golden State Warriors. The act was shared to the world through an essay written by Kevin Durant in The Players’ Tribune “My Next Chapter.” Up until that point we had written all of his chapters for him. When he got the opportunity to choose his next step, we shunned him. Or I did at least(11). The parallels with Julius Caesar were clear. He went evil, made a heel turn. His character was a bit more unhinged in GS. Free of expectations and free of the shackles of OKC’s shitty offense. And through that, he ascended to the top. 2 championships. 2 Finals MVPs. Probably a third consecutive championship without injuries. When he tore his achilles and jumped ship to Brooklyn, I felt a bit of hollowness. I was worried that this was his end(12).
Then he came back over a year later, perhaps better than he had ever been. He was even more polished and he still retained his quickness. No one ever came back from an achilles tear arguably better. But KD did it. His first season in Brooklyn, he fell short by a few literal centimeters in Game 7 against Giannis and the Bucks. This season? Who knows. But I know that KD will dedicate himself to the process completely.
Last night, I watched KD play basketball. He had 32-7-5 on 65% shooting, eerily similar to his stats from his 2014 MVP season, seven years earlier. Just another night in the office. When he hit a buzzer beating three pointer to end the third quarter, I felt that my relationship to KD had finally crossed the rubicon. I let it go. He’s real(13). Not a character. I got to watch the real Kevin Durant play basketball.
FOOTNOTES:
Trae averaged 29-9-3 and led an upstart Hawks team to the Eastern Conference FInals in his first playoff appearance.
The Brooklyn crowd cheered louded for when his attendance was announced than they did at any point during the game.
I feel like a loser for having any expectation of him at all.
One of the biggest draft blunders of all time for sure. Greg Oden played 105 career games with career averages of 8 points and 6 rebounds.
I still bring this up all the time.
KD wants people to stop talking about it, but to be honest this is one of the three most surreal moments of my life. The other two? Donald Trump becoming the president of the United States and Kobe Bryant dying in a helicopter crash. So yeah, I can’t forget.
Game 6 of the 2016 WCF hurts my heart to watch or remember.
Dirk, Sheed, KG etc
Kobe, TMac, Jordan etc
Emoni Bates, Brandon Ingram, etc... none seem to approach him.
I still maintain that it was a weak move but I wouldn’t have let it affect me in the same way today.
Kobe having his prime ended by the same injury gave me some difficult memories for sure.
It wasn't a revelation or discovery for me. I had been building to that point for quite some time. I just accepted it at that moment.
