"Memory is deceptive because it is colored by today's events. -- Albert Einstein
There was a time when Josh Smith and Rajon Rondo were true stars. Not just reckless gunners without conscience on big market teams, but leaders of playoff teams, versatile destroyers of box scores. Instead we find them this summer hanging onto their NBA careers by a thread.
Smith, having been waived outright by the Pistons just to get him gone, went to Houston and helped them to the No. 2 seed. He then went ballistic from 3-point range, of all things -- his Achilles heel for so long was his penchant for taking terrible long-range shots -- and helped Houston pull off the upset comeback vs. the Clippers. Instead of being retained (as you would expect for a key playoff contributor), the Rockets focused their efforts elsewhere, and Smith landed with the Clippers this summer.
Something that will blow your mind if you're a basketball fan: Josh Smith has yet to cross his 30th birthday. He should be entering his prime. Instead, if he's not on the edge of being without contract in the NBA, he's at least facing the very real possibility of being irrelevant. In most regards, Smith has become a punchline about what happens when a player believes too much in his jumper, and doesn't take advantage of mixing wisdom with skill and ability.
But there was a time when Smith was something else entirely. He was the B-grade LeBron, capable of filling every column in the stat sheet. By the time Josh Smith was 27, he was the only player to have tallied as many points, rebounds, assists and blocks as he had by that age. His entering the league out of high school helped. But the fact remains that few players in modern history have been as versatile as Smith. In 2011, he was an elite defender as well. The Hawks defense was 7.1 points better per 100 possessions with Smith on the floor.
Smith was a player that could snatch the ball from guards, make the perfect outlet pass to kickstart the break and then finish above the rim. He wasn't flawless, but there was just so much he did. Night after night, play after play, stat line after stat line.
Smith signed a deal for the veteran's minimum with the Clippers, and can bring a lot to the table. However, he remains a question mark as far as what discipline he'll bring to his game. Smith has never had off-the-court issues, and has never had conflicts that have erupted in public with coaches or players. Stan Van Gundy was even borderline apologetic about waiving him. Smith signing with the Clippers would have been an earthquake-level move. This summer it was barely a tremor.
Smith was once a game-changer. Then the game changed.
On the list of all-time playoff assist leaders, there are the usual suspects. Magic. Stockton. Jason Kidd. (Oh, hey LeBron. That's freakish that you're No. 4 but let's move on.) Then down at 19, tucked inside the top-20 is Rajon Rondo. Rondo tallied . He's fourth all-time in playoff assists per game, despite having played in more playoff games than No. 3 Chris Paul.
Here is the complete list of players to have tallied 1300 points, 500 rebounds and 800 assists in the playoffs by the time they were 28:
Rondo wasn't just a trigger man at point guard for a championship team that remained in contention for five seasons; he was a modern-day folk tale. The enigmatic, taciturn guard who never got along with anyone but kept piling up wins and dimes. The man who returned from a dislocated elbow to help lead a playoff win in the Garden:
The man who made this play, which was just beyond all reason:
Rondo was a revelation. He was something entirely new, entirely his own. Even in his prime, he was the source of consternation and debate. Was he as good as his numbers said? If he was, why were his team's offensive numbers so dreadful? Could he really be that great with a jumper so erratic?
In time, every critic of Rondo's was proven sound, his worth diminished by first an ACL tear that robbed him of his explosiveness, and then listlessness that followed the disassembly of the Big 3 Era in Boston. That gets overlooked in the reflections of the careers of those tough-as-nails Celtics teams in years since. No one was quite the same after that team broke apart. Ray Allen won a title and Paul Pierce is still the Truth, but something was lost when that team came apart, as if, no matter how difficult Rondo may be to get along with, losing that brotherhood he found in Pierce and KG cost him part of his basketball soul.
More than that was the disaster in Dallas, though. Rondo was to be the next in a great line of point guards to keep the Mavericks in the title picture. If he could defend the way he used to, pass the way he used to, and embrace the opportunity, Rondo could follow in Jason Kidd's footsteps as the player that put Dallas back into title contention. Instead, it was an absolute disaster. Rick Carlisle and Rondo never got along from Day One and neither one seemed able to find a way to repair the situation. Rondo's time with Dallas ended with them removing him from play with a contrived hamstring injury. It was an embarrassing ending for a player who had once earned the phrase "Playoff Rondo" for his postseason exploits.
A player with his playoff bona fides -- a championship ring and his whole career in front of him -- should stand as one of the game's greats. Instead, Rondo is the source of scorn and ridicule. His long-awaited free agency, the clock that Boston seemed to be up against for so long in its trade pursuits, once was considered a surefire way to provide him a max contract. Instead, he quietly signed a one-year, $10 million with the Kings. You know the Kings, they're the ones with all the great press this summer, who had lots of luck attracting free agents. (Yes, Kings fans, they did improve the team; let's just agree that Rondo probably wasn't dreaming of signing with them last summer.)
From hero to zero, from playoff legend to fringe player, Rondo's plummet has been like an asteroid. And much like the dinosaurs which were destroyed by such a giant rock, the time when Rondo ruled the Earth seems very long ago.
The point, beyond simply "life comes at you fast," is both a reminder and a warning. Players that seem nigh unstoppable or on the verge of a legendary career now can find themselves pressed to the edge of relevance. Injuries, wear and tear, inexplicable drop-offs and your run of the mill terrible attitudes can swing a career in rapid fashion. Raymond Felton was considered "the good Bobcat" at one point.
It's also a reminder of what Rondo and Smith were, though. It's true that once a player passes his expiration date, getting back to the point of excellence is difficult. (In unrelated news, Kobe Bryant turns 37 on Sunday.) Smith and Rondo are both on the good side of 30, however. If their careers could turn for the worse that quickly, isn't it possible that things could move back to good just as fast?
Maybe. Just don't ask Stan Van Gundy or Rick Carlisle. That might not go well.
