Trading Teams For Superstars Is Not As Smart As It Sounds

If you’re an NBA general manager not employed by the Oklahoma City Thunder or Miami Heat, it seems that the trendiest thing you could possibly do at the moment is make every player on your roster available in a very public (and very desperate) attempt at acquiring Chris Paul, Deron Williams, or Dwight Howard. (Or, if you’re a voracious halfwit, might as well make a run at two!) Asking why a front office would employ this not so covert strategy isn’t a cool or popular question to pose, and it would probably make those within earshot lose a tiny bit of respect for you as a basketball fan/human being. These are superstars we’re talking about! And they’re available! Real life superstars!

In case you didn’t know, a superstar creates visibility for a franchise, which creates interest, which greatly increases the likelihood of increasing said organization’s monetary value. But looking at this through the lens of basketball sensibility, putting all your chips in for one player might not be the smartest team building technique.

Why?  Superstars are needed to win championships. This is a tried and true fact of life in the NBA. There are numerous instances that can either support or destroy what I’m about to say, but trading all your assets for a superstar might not be the best course of action. In some cases, like the Boston Celtics acquiring of Kevin Garnett, hindsight proved it to be. But they already had Ray Allen and Paul Pierce providing background support at the time of that deal. Morey has done a fantastic job of grabbing great complimentary pieces and locking them up to affordable contracts.

But if the team chooses to ship Kevin Martin—one of the league’s most efficient scorers yet a shade beneath “superstar status”—and Kyle Lowry, an up and coming two way nightmare whose overall improvement as a player since coming to Houston is downright unexplainable—for Paul, Howard, or Williams, what they would’ve done is exchanged an arm for a leg—albeit a super strong, super awesome one, at that.

Acquiring a superstar is a difficult process involving luck, countless nights of mounting failure, and an indescribable feeling of predestination. Once you get him, the process only gets harder. There’s constant appeasement, a need to feed your superstar with all he wants and needs before the clock runs out and no banner is up in the rafters. Once the league’s luxury tax penalties kick in two years from now, free agency flurries won’t happen every offseason. Players will stand to make more money by staying put, and with a lower portion of BRI to go around we could see helpful veterans unwilling to take less even if it means a greater chance at winning.

If the Rockets choose to trade their backcourt for a superstar, nothing is guaranteed except an increase in expectations. Here’s a look at New Orleans, Orlando, and Utah’s collective history since they had Paul, Howard, and Williams on board.

1) From 2005-2011 the New Orleans Hornets were 265-227. They missed the playoffs in three of Paul’s six seasons, and escaped from the first round just once.

2) From 2005-2011 the Utah Jazz were 286-206. They reached the Western Conference Finals in Williams’ second season, and never got back.

3) From 2004-2011 the Orlando Magic were 334-240. They reached the Finals in 2009, lost in a much closer five games than will be remembered (thank you, Jameer Nelson’s artistic backpedal and Courtney Lee placing too much mustard on a possible game winning layup), and never returned.

Even though one of these teams wrangled themselves into the final showdown (in partial thanks to Kevin Garnett’s bum knee) and one other reached the conference finals, nobody won a championship. A superstar has both on and off-court power, yes. But for all the happiness he brings, that same player has an ability to counter his good will with the option of departing when his contract runs out. When that happens things don’t just get bad, they can temporarily set your franchise on fire and give birth to contraction rumors.

Just look at these franchises. One is currently building itself around a guy named Enes Kanter—best known for running really fast on a treadmill for an abnormal amount of time—and the other two, the ones that still have their superstars, will almost surely not advance past the first round if they make the playoffs. The superstar has the potential to crush what he creates, so is it even worth trading your entire team for one? Knowing in all likelihood he could replicate his actions on your team four years from now—or, in the case of Paul, Williams, and Howard, plant a goodbye kiss before waving hello?

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