Carmelo Anthony’s Flawed Genius Struck Different Because I Saw His Flaws In Myself | nba

Yo I wasn’t ready for Carmelo Anthony’s retirement announcement. One, because I thought he would, and should, play a few more years. He was still in shape and could bring a veteran scoring presence to any NBA team.

The second reason is because I am in the midst of the most important separation of my adult life with the woman I still consider my soul mate. As with Anthony, or Melo as he is affectionately known to his fans, there was no obvious inciting incident. Melo and the game seemed to grow apart and neither could give the other what he wanted. The same can be said about my ex-partner and me. He video he released Showcasing his incredible journey from the gang-infested streets of Baltimore, to the mountaintop of Syracuse, to becoming the ninth leading scorer in NBA history, it broke me. I had yet to grieve over the end of my relationship, but Monday’s news brought out my grief: One of our favorite rituals was watching the NBA and cheering on the Knicks together.

She wasn’t a Knicks fan before we met. Our first date was looking at 2016 nba Finals at Hooters. Watching her cheer on LeBron James and the underdog Cleveland Cavaliers under the glare of 100 televisions and a pitcher of Miller Lite was the moment I fell in love with her. When we first spoke Monday morning, it was to discuss where I would be moving. I asked her if she would help me find an apartment, since she was much better at finding a deal than I was. As tears welled up in my eyes, I apologized and told her that she was trying to be strong but my favorite player was retiring, pushing me past my breaking point. The first year we dated, Melo was still on the team, surrounded by players far inferior to him and under the misguided “leadership” of Phil Jackson, who disgraced Melo throughout. Knowing how much they both meant to me, he gave me a loving and empathetic “I’m sorry.”

My partner was there when Melo was traded from the Knicks to Oklahoma City. We saw his abrupt departure from there after just one season, and then again, a failed adjustment in Houston. We celebrate his revival in Portland together. And then he hoped that he would finally win it all with his friend LeBron in Los Angeles. There’s no hidden irony in Melo’s career ending on the same day as our relationship. Like Melo, he had been fading for some time. The recognition that neither Melo nor I would experience the intimacy of winning was a tacit understanding.

That Melo never won everything in the NBA was one of the reasons I defended him so vigorously. I’ve always loved an underdog story, and Melo’s was one of the best. The former Knicks forward and future Hall of Famer, who last played with the Lakers in the 2021 season, is finally retiring at age 38 after 19 NBA seasons. I kept a signed copy of his book, Where Tomorrows Aren’t Promised, by my bed. For those who have escaped poverty and they are learning to be, was my bible. Melo’s martial mistakes, chasing the bag and his love it or hate it personality resonated with me, perhaps a little too deeply. Knicks fans have a mantra: “One a Knick, always a Knick.” With Melo, it was more than that. He was the one player he would always go to war for. Even though he would never know I existed, it was enough that I knew I existed. I saw so many of my failures in it, magnified with millions and a platform. He was a player who never won it all and will be remembered in equal measure for his failures. I also relate to that. He may not have married me to the girl of my dreams, but it comforts me to know that I’m not the only one.

Melo entered the NBA at the height of the one-man isolation circus. His skill set outside of the dribble fits right into a league with Tracy McGrady, Allen Iverson, Vince Carter and Kobe Bryant as the face. But as the league evolved and superteams were formed in Boston, Miami and Los Angeles, Melo went it alone, preferring the bag to free agency and teaming up with fellow 2003 draft picks James and Dwyane Wade in Miami. . As the league continued to change, he left Melo behind. Teams were no longer looking for the next great gunner, but for those who could plug and play within a team identity. He could no longer be the first option as a scorer. You had to play defense and make your teammates better. Those were two abilities that Melo never prioritized. His game had been enough. And why not? He had won the NCAA championship as a freshman at Syracuse while making the playoffs all eight seasons with the denver nuggetswho selected him third overall.

Like Melo, I also suffered from the main character syndrome. Growing up without any control over your circumstances, unable to escape trauma, poverty, and environmental violence, can breed that kind of self-centered mindset. As an adult, I wanted my existence to serve my needs, giving me the power I never had as a child. It made me be selfish and bend the world around me to my needs. This kind of thinking can drive everyone around you into a chaotic frenzy. For Melo, he created four teammates who stood idly by as he unleashed one of the greatest offensive bags of tricks ever seen. For me, he created two different relationships, one for each of our points of view. In the end, we went from being a team to separate people, and no one won. But Melo’s seemingly unwavering charm, the almost angelic naivety that his way would always win, was my favorite attribute. It’s the only feature I made for myself. It could be called arrogance or chutzpah. I could create heroes or brutes. These binary perceptions embody the two drastically different responses to Melo’s legacy, as they reflect the different viewpoints when a relationship dissolves.

As a Knicks fan who started watching in 2002, I’ve only known pain. So for me, Melo came to New York as an epiphany. A 10-time All-Star, seven of his selections, including the NBA scoring title in 2013, came in a Knicks jersey from 2011 to 2017, the prime of his career.

As a Knick, Melo provided me with my only glimpse of success in two decades, averaging 24.7 points, seven rebounds and 2.3 assists on the All-Star team each season. Only eight other players have set foot on an NBA court and scored more points than Melo. Only eight. This, plus his three Olympic gold medals with Team USA, are just two of the reasons his teammates picked him for the NBA’s 75th Anniversary Team. Another reason is that he never ran from the smoke. He took on all the challenges himself, for better or worse. Melo will be a first-ballot Hall of Famer when his time comes. But that won’t make up for the way current coaches and executives have decided to keep him out of the league. No one has defended him, allowing him to go the entire season without a call-up, forcing him to retire outside of his own terms. There was no farewell tour or magic moment in the Garden. There was only one letter to those he loved that he had finished. Melo was always the same, on and off the field. He never ran from the media, leading a team, questions about his intentions or difficult confrontations with him. And like most of our lives, it didn’t turn out the way he wanted. When I saw Melo on the court, I saw more than a player, but a fully realized person, flaws and all. Melo is not my favorite player just because of how good he was. He is my favorite player because he is the most relatable.