Page 34 of ClickBack

“I spent the end of the season doing everything they asked. Whatever position they needed. Whatever minutes. Played through things they said we’d manage after we got in.”

“And you played well.”

“We didn’t get in.”

“That wasn’t all on you.”

I know that when I watch the film. I can see missed rotations that weren’t mine, stretches when a good shot refused to fall, decisions made well before anybody put on a uniform. Knowing doesn’t stop me replaying the possession I could have handled differently. It also doesn’t stop the uglier feeling that I gave them enough to make selling me attractive.

Cam lets me work through some of that without narrating it for me.

“What does San Antonio want?” I ask eventually.

“You starting. Screening next to Javon, organizing the defense, giving them somebody they can play through when the perimeter gets crowded.”

I can see it too easily. Von coming off my screen. Cole moving behind the help. Ronan reading the same opening a second before everybody else. Good players making the next decision simpler.

“It’s Von’s team.”

“He’ll still be on it.”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. I also know he wants to keep winning.”

There are old introductions I can hear without trying. My little brother standing next to me while somebody asks how soon he’ll catch up, whether he can shoot like me, whether we play one-on-one. Even when he won, the story started with my name. San Antonio gave him some distance from that. I’m not ready to treat it as a minor complication because the basketball looks right.

“Tell me about Toronto.”

“Cleaner return for Philly at the moment. They like you starting and closing. Their coach wants to use you more late in games.”

“Virginia?”

“Has picks. Making the salaries work means Philly takes back contracts it doesn’t want.”

“And Toronto wants a commitment from me.”

“Some indication. You’ve got the guaranteed season and then your option. What you intend to do after that affects what a team will give up.”

I watch Graves lift the proposal out of the way of my plate and begin reading it. He looks up when I turn toward him, but I keep talking to Cam.

“So I’m valuable enough to make the deal and not valuable enough to choose it.”

“You have influence. You don’t have a veto. Let’s use what you have.”

“What about getting bought out?”

“We looked.”

“You and Sterling?”

“Yes. You give back money, Philadelphia gives up the return it wants, and the teams you actually want to play for can’t pay you what you left behind. Nobody comes out of that with what they need.”

“Money isn’t everything.”

“It’s part of your contract. So is the chance to use the contract instead of climbing out of it because you hate waiting.”

I don’t answer. He has earned enough trust to say that to me, which occasionally makes trusting him inconvenient.