bwgood77 wrote:It's probably worth keeping Bledsoe for a Boogie pitch. I'd certainly love to have Boogie on the team, but I hate giving up a crap ton of assets for him. I watched us do that for McDyess and he left. He even went back to the same team...not that Boogie would of course. But NY gave up a ton for Melo and never could really compete with him because they cleared out all their assets for him. Some of those guys are still seriously balling in Denver.
I thought of that episode as well. Of course, when McDyess left, he did so following the longest lockout or work stoppage in NBA history, and the Suns had not been allowed to have any contact with him during that time. The Lakers had traded All-Star point guard Nick Van Exel to the Nuggets just prior to the lockout, and McDyess spent the lockout period hanging out and working out with Van Exel in Houston. Van Exel's agents, James Bryant and Tony Dutt, soon became McDyess' agents and wanted to steer the power forward back to Denver, and he fell under the spell and control of that entire camp.
McDyess later stated that he regretted leaving Phoenix.
By giving up twenty-six-year old shooting guard Wesley Person for McDyess at the start of October 1997, the Suns nearly set in motion a disastrous chain of events. At the the time, Phoenix possessed the deepest back court in the NBA with Kevin Johnson (whom the Suns had just convinced not to retire and instead re-signed to a one-year contract after a historically exceptional season where he had constituted the best point guard in the NBA); Jason Kidd (a twenty-four-year old budding star who had ranked fourth in the NBA in assists per game the previous season, behind Johnson's third-place finish, after placing second in '95-'96); Rex Chapman (a veteran shooting guard whose spectacular shot-making ability had allowed him to lead the Suns in scoring average, at 24.2 points per game, in Phoenix's playoff series versus Seattle the previous spring while shooting .494 from the field and .458 on threes in 9.6 attempts per contest during that five-game First Round series); Wesley Person, who—like Chapman—possessed exceptional range and had shot .407 on threes in his three seasons in Phoenix after being drafted in the first round in 1994, while averaging 17.7 points, 4.7 rebounds, a .480 field goal percentage, 1.6 steals, and a 3.0:1.0 assists-to-turnover ratio as he started 18 consecutive games alongside Kevin Johnson the previous winter, at a time when Kidd and Chapman were out of uniform or just coming off injuries; and Steve Nash, their first-round pick from 1996 whom the Suns had planned to move into their three-guard and four-guard offenses if K.J. had indeed retired and who had dazzled during the 1997 Utah Summer League.
When Phoenix commenced three-way trade negotiations with Denver and Cleveland in an effort to land McDyess, the Cavaliers originally asked for Nash (who the Vancouver Grizzlies had rejected after the Suns offered to trade him for the fourth overall pick in the 1997 draft). But the Suns, loving Nash's upside and youth (twenty-three), refused to trade him in a McDyess deal, instead envisioning a back court where Kidd and Nash could eventually play together and loving the depth at point guard. (After all, K.J. possessed a history of injuries and Kidd had missed 22 games the previous season with a broken collarbone.) The Suns countered by offering Person, even though their four-guard offense and four-guard rotation were better balanced with two natural shooting guards in Person and Chapman and two natural point guards in Johnson and Kidd, as opposed to one natural shooting guard (Chapman) and three natural point guards (Johnson, Kidd, and Nash). Like Person, Nash seemed to be an excellent three-point shooter (.418 as a rookie in a limited number of attempts), but he was much smaller and primarily a creator as opposed to a mid-sized spot-up shooter.
Eventually, the Cavaliers accepted Person, who would be named the NBA's Player of the Week in early December 1997 and enjoyed a fine year overall, leading the league in three-pointers made and attempted, finishing seventh in the NBA in three-point field goal percentage at .430, and averaging 14.7 points and 4.4 rebounds while starting all 82 games and establishing new career highs in several categories for a playoff team. Meanwhile, in Phoenix, Nash scored 19 points on 8-11 field goal shooting in the season opener ("just the beginning," said K.J. with regard to Nash) and emerged as a significant guard in the Suns' playing rotation, providing valuable depth when Johnson missed 31 straight games in December 1997 and January 1998 due to a knee that needed surgical repair. Nash then started 10 games, including Phoenix's final playoff game, after the All-Star break, usually when Chapman was ailing. The Suns won 56 games that season, although Nash's successful emergence may have paradoxically limited Phoenix's upside because it helped reduce Johnson's role even as the Suns went 15-2 (.882) when K.J. played at least 30 minutes. Of course, the blame in that regard rests squarely with head coach Danny Ainge.
After the season in May 1998, seeing that the Suns were committed to Nash and knowing that the young Canadian needed more minutes ("rightfully so," in K.J.'s opinion), and knowing that Kidd was now entrenched as the team's leading playmaker, Johnson and the franchise mutually parted company. (The departure occurred even though K.J. had led the Suns in scoring in two of their four playoff games that spring, committed 0 turnovers in the other two playoff games, and shot .548 from the field with a .582 True Shooting Percentage in that series versus San Antonio, the league's second-most efficient defensive club on a points-allowed-per-possession basis.)
Kevin Johnson's career in Phoenix is over. After an 11-year marriage, for richer or richer, in sickness and in health, through good times and great times, the team and player who became synonymous are parting company. Finished. Just like that. The Suns' statement, which Johnson approved, read like a collaborative effort of divorce lawyers. The Suns and KJ "mutually decided" that it was "in their best interest" to go their separate ways. KJ will be "free to explore all opportunities available to him." That may or may not include playing for another NBA team. But KJ said it will take a unique basketball situation to lure him away from his home in Phoenix. ... The release included a KJ quote. He said he was blessed to have played for one of the finest organizations in sports. He thanked teammates and fans. It was like a type-written love letter. The words were sincere, but the warmth just wasn't there.
We knew, of course, this was coming. After a 19-point loss in San Antonio, which eliminated the Suns from the playoffs in the first round for the third year in a row, KJ was asked about coming back. Could he accept his role? "This role?" Johnson said, underlining the word. After removing his Suns uniform for the last time, KJ gave a wintry smile. Although he didn't answer directly, leaving us to fill in the blanks, it was easy to read his thoughts: No, I can't be happy as a third guard. Or a fourth guard. Face it. There's no place, or future, for me here.
A year ago, KJ placed his roundball future in the hands of a higher power. More than once, he said he would postpone retirement only if God spoke to him the way the angel spoke to Moses in the Book of Exodus, Chapter 3. "A burning bush," KJ said, with a smile. ... KJ held a news conference 53 days after the season to say that God told him, "You're not finished yet." The point guard interpreted the message to mean he should play another year for $8 million. This time KJ didn't need divine counseling. Common sense told him the Suns already have enough guards, all younger than he. Besides, the club can't afford to pay him. The Suns must invest their money in free agency to get better. It's that simple.
Although the Suns didn't shove him out the door, KJ probably can relate to Bob Uecker, the former big-league catcher known as "Mr. Baseball" to a generation that never saw him play. Uecker said he came to the realization that he probably wasn't in the Braves' plans the day he reported to spring training in 1968. When he opened the door to the clubhouse, Manager Luman Harris looked up at Uke and said, calmly, "No visitors allowed."
But we shouldn't feel sorry for Kevin Johnson. Nor would he want us to. He has enjoyed a great career in Phoenix, and he leaves us a wealthy man. Sports is business. There isn't space to recite his accomplishments. In his prime, no one was quicker with a basketball in his hand. He broke down defenses off the dribble. He slashed to the basket, and picked himself off the floor. His jump shot floated to the hoop. He made 18-footers look easy. Still does. ... Once the focal point of the team, KJ was relegated to "Franchise Junior" when Charles Barkley arrived, bigger and louder than life. Eventually, KJ took his place behind Jason Kidd and Rex Chapman and Steve Nash, accepting the demotion with quiet grace, and class. His silent exit, via fax, reminds us what sports is.https://www.newspapers.com/newspage/124176624/
But what K.J. never knew, and Jerry Colangelo and Phoenix's management and coaching staff somehow missed as well, was that Steve Nash was discontent with his role, too. Like K.J., Nash never protested and instead toed the company line for the sake of the team. Like K.J., Nash probably did not understand why he generally played behind two guards, in Kidd and Chapman, who proved markedly less efficient on offense (even if Kidd and Chapman amounted to Nash's best friends on the team). Head coach Danny Ainge envisioned a back court where Nash would now become the clear-cut third guard, playing major minutes behind Kidd and Chapman and often playing alongside either one and sometimes both. Eventually, in Ainge's vision, Nash would start alongside Kidd in something of a dual-point guard offense, with Nash defending the opponent's point guard and Kidd guarding the opponent's shooting guard. But Ainge's vision was not Nash's vision—Nash (with Bill Duffy as his agent) wanted to run his own team as its clear-cut quarterback, and he wanted to do so sooner rather than later. Thus, to Phoenix's surprise, Nash refused to ink a contract extension as he prepared to enter the third and final year of his rookie deal, thus forcing the Suns to either trade him now or lose him in free agency following one more season. After Vancouver—now much more interested in the hometown Nash yet still liking him less than Mike Bibby—again turned down the Suns' offer of Nash for the Grizzlies' high lottery pick (second overall this time), Phoenix found a trading partner in Dallas, where Nash would join a raft of former teammates (Michael Finley, Cedric Ceballos, A.C. Green) while the Suns received the Mavericks' 1999 first round pick, which figured to constitute a prime lottery selection. With Nash suddenly gone by the end of June 1998, the Suns could have used K.J. again, but they had already agreed to renounce their rights to their longtime franchise point guard on the first day of free agency in July 1998—a day that would be postponed by over half a year due to the lockout.
After the lockout, Phoenix re-signed Chapman, their leading scorer in '97-'98, to a four-year contract, partly because he had been a good (sometimes spectacular) scorer and player for the Suns and partly as a reward for his loyalty after he played two straight seasons for the team at a minimum salary. But Chapman had broken down several times after the All-Star break in 1998, including during the playoffs, with a variety of leg injuries. Those injuries helped lead to a dependence on painkillers that, years later, led Chapman to a criminal episode.
Following the lockout, the thirty-one-year old Chapman missed 12 of the 50 games in 1999 and shot a dreadful .359 from the field, including .364 on two-point field goal attempts. (His two-point field goal percentage dropped by 83 points from the previous year and a whopping 146 points from his first season in Phoenix in '96-'97.) With Chapman usually ineffective or injured, the Suns often had to play a small forward, George McCloud or Chris Morris, at shooting guard. Certainly, Wesley Person could have been a lifesaver in this situation, and with his shooting range and relative youth, he would have constituted a very viable long-term back-court partner for Jason Kidd. As Ainge later stated, "Remember, last year we got nothing out of the two-guard position. ... It killed us with Rex hurt."
http://articles.chicagotribune.com/1999-11-09/sports/9911090086_1_jason-kidd-suns-coach-danny-ainge-first-team-all-nba Again, at the start of October 1997, Phoenix had featured the NBA's deepest back court. Now, about sixteen months later after the lockout, the Suns probably possessed the league's shallowest back court. In 1999, Jason Kidd constituted the NBA's best point guard, but with Chapman ailing at shooting guard and Person, Johnson, and Nash all gone, the Suns were reduced to sub-NBA types named Gerald Brown, Alvin Sims, Shawn Respert (to whom Phoenix briefly gave K.J.'s number during the preseason, prompting a fan backlash and a retraction of the number), Toby Bailey, Marko Milic, and Randy Livingston for backups. Brown, a rookie free agent from Pepperdine University who would never again play in the NBA after that season, spent most of the year as Kidd's primary backup despite shooting .371 from the field and .380 on two-point field goal attempts while barely averaging more assists (0.9 per game) than turnovers (0.7). The Suns signed Livingston, who would play for ten NBA franchises in eleven seasons, prior to the regular season finale against Minnesota, and when he scored 12 points off the bench to help spark a narrow Phoenix victory, he immediately made the playoff roster as the team's number-two point guard, bumping Brown to the number-three point guard spot. The Suns were that desperate for guards, and although Phoenix reached the playoffs, the franchise failed to win a single playoff game for the first time in eleven years.
That desperation, and that need for an upgrade at shooting guard, led the Suns to ink Anfernee Hardaway to a seven-year, $86.5M contract in the summer of 1999 (in a sign-and-trade deal that cost Phoenix two forwards, veteran Danny Manning and young sharpshooter Pat Garrity, who had come to the Suns as a throw-in from Dallas in the Nash trade). For its time, the contract proved enormous. Hardaway, of course had been an All-NBA First Team guard, a "superstar." As I noted in another recent post, back in '95-'96, only two players in the NBA averaged at least 16.0 points, 6.0 assists, and a .600 True Shooting Percentage: Kevin Johnson (18.7/9.2/.617) and Anfernee Hardaway (21.7/7.1/.605).
But by 1999, that performance level was multiple knee surgeries ago, including a Microfracture procedure. At twenty-eight, Hardaway would give the Suns one good (not great) season, and even then he missed 22 games. Then he hurt his left knee again during the 2000 playoffs. He performed very effectively despite the injury yet then needed two more Microfracture surgeries on his left knee while only playing four games the next season. (Overall, he would undergo four knee operations with Phoenix, once having surgery on both knees simultaneously.) Thereafter, Hardaway would become a massively paid, quite inefficient complementary player bouncing between the bench and a starter's spot. Conversely, had the Suns not dealt for McDyess, or had they consummated the deal differently, Phoenix could have just kept Wesley Person at shooting guard the whole time.
Fortunately, the Knicks absorbed Hardaway's contract in a January 2004 trade, thus freeing the cap space that the Suns used to bring back Steve Nash as a free agent five months later. And fortunately, the Suns used that 1999 first-round pick (the ninth overall, as matters turned out), which they had obtained from Dallas in exchange for Nash in June 1998, to select Shawn Marion, who would become one of the best forwards in franchise history. But a lot of "fortune" went into those outcomes, especially in finding a taker for Hardaway's contract in 2004, when he was years past his prime. (And although the Marion pick validated the Suns' strategic thinking and confirmed their ability to scout young talent, it all could have gone for not if one of the eight franchises with a higher selection had beaten Phoenix to the punch.)
In other words, when you trade a good piece (Wesley Person circa 1997) for a more attractive piece (Antonio McDyess circa 1997) that is not tethered to your franchise for the long haul, you are taking a major gamble. Not only did McDyess' free agent defection hurt the Suns in the short term (his free agent replacement, Tom Gugliotta, was a good shooter and passer yet an older, markedly less explosive, defensively challenged player), but the cost of Person helped decimate the Suns' guard depth over the long haul and led to a series of dubious decisions that very nearly became disastrous for years to come.
In a cumulative sense, from the fall of 1997 to the summer of 1999, a span of less than two years, the Suns traded a twenty-six-year old Wesley Person, a twenty-four-year old Antonio McDyess, a twenty-three-year old Pat Garrity, a thirty-three-year old Danny Manning, and four first-round draft picks (who could have been used to select Zach Randolph in 2001; Tony Parker or Gerald Wallace in 2001; Al Harrington or Rashard Lewis in 1998; and James Posey or Andrei Kirilenko in 1999) for a twenty-nine-year old Tom Gugliotta and a twenty-eight-year old Anfernee Hardaway. Yes, Manning was thirty-three and had undergone three reconstructive ACL knee surgeries by then, but Gugliotta and Hardaway were approaching thirty and the former was coming off season-ending ankle surgery while the latter had undergone multiple knee operations over his last three years in Orlando, including a Microfracture procedure.
"Roster churn" sounds cool, but it often ends up being a chase down a rabbit's hole. If the Suns were to trade for Cousins, I would not be surprised at all to see him bolt for another pasture as soon as he became a free agent in less than two years' time. And McDyess was a good guy ("the sweetest guy in the world," according to Chapman) who just listened to the wrong people. Conversely, how solid of a person does Cousins happen to be? He has a history of temperamental behavior and being a "troublemaker." Is he really mature enough to handle a potentially difficult situation in Phoenix?
