Carter is in the grip of the most difficult season of his basketball life. Memphis coach Dave Joerger hasn’t played him in 11 of the Grizzlies’ first 19 games. On this early December evening in the Music City, Carter is averaging career lows in points (4.6) and assists (0.5), while nearing lifetime worsts in rebounds (3.1) and shooting percentage (36.1).
So why, two hours before tipoff against the Spurs, is Carter beaming and grinning as he greets his teammates one by one with hugs and hand-slaps as they enter the locker room, like Carter is some proud parent meeting his kids at the bus stop? It may seem a little thing, but in these fading moments of Carter’s NBA career, this is what sustains him and gives him purpose, these interactions with his guys—a reason he doesn’t want it to end.
“I respect the game of basketball so much that if my attitude was bad, I would walk away,” Carter says. “I still can contribute. I know I can. There are guys like Kobe [Bryant] who just know that it’s time to leave the game. But I’m not there yet. Even if it’s me showing a rookie how to adjust to the NBA life or giving pointers to guys on the court, I know I can help this team.
THE LEGEND rises from his seat at the end of the bench with 3:30 left in the third quarter against the Spurs, strips off his sweats and jogs to the scorer’s table. Memphis trails San Antonio 65-49. Upon seeing Carter report to enter the game, a fan in the front row at the FedEx Forum yells, “We need some vintage Vince tonight. Come on, Vince!”
Checking in for Zach Randolph, Carter lopes onto the court. The crowd screams a roar that rolls like thunder through the arena. The place is suddenly electric with excitement, the thrill of possibility now alive that Carter is on the floor.
This is why Carter hangs on, to experience moments like this, when 17,000 rise to their feet and tie their hopes to him. In his youth, Carter expanded the frontiers of what was attainable on the basketball court—that was his most seductive allure—and now he’s desperate to give the fans a glimpse of Vintage Vince.
Carter runs up and down the court, directing the younger players on offense, calling out screens on defense. After two minutes on the floor, he receives a pass near the top of the key. He rises for a 25-foot jump shot. His follow through is textbook, the backspin-on-the-ball ideal.
It clanks off the rim.
The old magic has disappeared. Carter remains in the game into the fourth quarter. On several trips down the floor, he labors to guard Spurs forward Boris Diaw, who outweighs Carter by 30 pounds and who tosses Carter to the ground on two occasions as they fight for position underneath the basket.
With 4:24 left in the fourth and Memphis trailing by 19 points, Grizzlies coach Dave Joerger subs Carter out of the game. Seeing guard Russ Smith running onto the court to take his position, Carter whispers “damn” to himself and takes a seat at the end of the bench. His night is over.
He puts a towel over his head and stares at the floor for several minutes. His stat line reads: 11 minutes played, 0 points, 1 rebound, 1 assist and 1 steal.
Tonight, he couldn’t feel the music.
http://thelab.bleacherreport.com/vince-carter-the-lion-in-winter