On Feb. 21, 2011, the New York Knicks and Denver Nuggets completed a blockbuster trade in which the Nuggets received Wilson Chandler, Danilo Gallinari, Raymond Felton, Timofey Mozgov, a 2014 first-round pick, two second-round picks, $3 million, St. Charles Place, two ore and 60 guilders worth of wampum. The Timberwolves got into the mix to take Anthony Randolph and Eddy Curry, and the Knicks received Chauncey Billups, a bunch of dudes who don’t really matter and, of course, Carmelo Anthony, the key to the deal and one of the top 10 players in the NBA.
What do these four events have in common? They represent a generational shift in the way NBA teams are constructed and the historical frameworks through which I will make dubious comparisons and bizarre leaps of logic. For a long time, NBA teams were built around one superstar, a few complementary stars and a slew of role players. Even if more than one player was of superstar quality, it was clear who the leader of the team was. Many great players played for the Celtics in the 1960s, but Bill Russell was always the alpha dog. Same with Larry Bird on the ’80s Celtics, Isiah Thomas on the ’80s to ’90s Pistons, or Michael Jordan on the ’90s Bulls.
There have been exceptions, such as the Kareem-Magic or Kobe-Shaq Lakers, in which two of the league’s premier players happened to be on the same team. But these happened by chance or fortunate drafting; the players involved had very different positions and skillsets and, of course, the Kobe-Shaq Lakers imploded precisely because Kobe and Shaq were both premier players who each wanted to be the leader of the team.
LeBron James changed all that this summer, opening the nation’s eyes to an NBA in which opposing players are friendlier than they used to be (with a few exceptions: everyone hates Kevin Garnett). Jordan wouldn’t have dreamt of being on the same team as Kobe, and he said as much after LeBron’s decision. Superstars used to say “I have my supporting cast, you have yours, now we fight.” Batman and Robin, not Batman and Batman. Now LeBron James and Dwyane Wade (and Batman), two of the three or four best perimeter players in the league, are together on the same team because they chose to be.
I believe this will lead to a new era of team-building, as the Knicks have demonstrated with their trade for Anthony. The front office, media and most fans don’t particularly care that they gave up a slew of valuable rotation players and yet another first-round pick. They only see another superstar, in this case one who brings the same key strength (scoring ability) and key weakness (defensive apathy) as the superstar they already have, Amar’e Stoudemire. They don’t mind that the rest of the team is Chauncey Billups, Landry Fields, Ronny Turiaf, and a heap of flotsam, just like the Heat don’t seem to mind that players like Eddie House and Joel Anthony play key roles for their championship contender. A jigsaw puzzle mentality has been replaced by a sandcastle built using only giant buckets with a few hastily applied turrets.
Will this paradigm work? In the examples of superpowers combining forces I mentioned earlier, the results are not so clear. The Nazi-Soviet pact fell apart less than two years after its signing when Hitler launched Operation Barbarossa. There’s no true NBA equivalent, but this situation is a little like when Kobe declared to the press during his rape allegations that he should have paid off his women like Shaq did. The Beatles rode their two stars to a career as the greatest rock band of all time, although even they eventually couldn’t stay together. And after a rocky start to the season, the Heat have come together as one of the favorites in a strong Eastern Conference, and of course we don’t know how the Knicks will function with Anthony. I don’t know how all of this will impact the free-agent period of 2012, when stars Chris Paul, Deron Williams and Dwight Howard (all of whom are currently anchoring their own teams) may become available. Historical evidence both inside and outside of basketball suggests that a double- (or triple-) superstar strategy frequently fails spectacularly (Hitler-Stalin or the sixth-place 2002 USA men’s basketball team), but when it works it’s almost unstoppable (Lennon-McCartney, Magic-Kareem or peanut butter and jelly).
I don’t know what’s going to happen. What I do know is that I don’t like it. I didn’t want to see the Knicks give up most of their supporting cast for another frontcourt player who gives them 25 points a game and not enough defense, I don’t want a world in which top players flee the teams they should be leading to form de facto All-Star teams with their friends, and I don’t want the Miami Heat to win the 2010-11 NBA title. But all the Knicks see is the money that Carmelo Anthony jerseys will generate around New York, and maybe that’s what really matters.