Eulogy of Brandon Roy

The Mavericks win over the Trailblazers in Portland last night ended the Blazers' season.  But with Brandon Roy's knees making him mostly a footnote to the Blazers now, I worry that much more has been lost, and much more has ended.  In this series against the Mavericks, the Blazers were a Brandon Roy shy of winning.  They may always be a Brandon Roy shy.

I didn't know much about him when he first came into the league.  By appearance, he seemed like little more than a standard 6'6" shooting guard.  To an extent, it's true that he's standard, in that he's never been the quickest player, or the best jumper, or even the best shooter, but Roy quickly became unignorable.  Though it was subtle, Roy definitely had the Jordan-quality: a command of the game, sometimes just through presence.  His stats were good, not phenomenal, but Roy's greatest stat is his win percentage.  That's what he does better than he does anything else: wins. 

Before this year, I thought for sure the Blazers would one day win a championship with Roy leading them, even without Oden in the mix.  Then Roy came back from surgery this February, and I thought this year might be the Blazers' last chance to win a championship, period.  I watched this last series against the Mavericks with the understanding that it would be Roy's last playoffs—or at least his last playoffs in which he was still recognizable, to some extent, as Brandon Roy.

It was obvious that he was limited physically, especially on defense.  Still, I thought the Blazers had a better chance with Roy, even if he was playing limited minutes.  Because he's the type of a player with an aura.  A guy whose teammates respect him more than anybody else does.  The type of guy, like a Willis Reed (or even a Mateen Cleaves, if you will), whose mere presence makes a profound difference in his team's subconscious. 

Game four is one of the best games I've ever seen.  Brandon Roy almost single-handedly erased a 23-point fourth quarter by scoring 18 fourth quarter points to win the game.  He was more than aura on that night.  He was bordering on supernatural.  This was Brandon Roy's greatest game.  And maybe the last great game he will ever play.  Knowing Roy's character—a humble, team-first player to the core—he would say he was just trying to do whatever he had to do to help the team win.  But I think that maybe game four was Brandon Roy's swan song.  Like he played that game, not like a wounded animal, but like a beautiful bird with still a little flight left, to give us a lasting memory of how great he was.

There's no bigger Brandon Roy fan than me.  His injury, if it has the ramifications that the experts say it will, is truly, truly heartbreaking.  Because it's so difficult for me to accept that such a beyond great player, with such profound competitive fire, intellect, and humility, was cursed with such horrible knees.  A player as true as Brandon Roy deserved better knees.  If there's one thing Brandon Roy has ever lacked, it's cartilage.