‘‘The worst sin toward our fellow creatures is not to hate them but to be indifferent to them; that’s the essence of inhumanity.’’ — George Bernard Shaw
He used to be one of ours. Even when he wasn’t one of us. We claimed him. Lifted him. Then something flipped. Something changed. He became someone we no longer knew or transformed into that someone we could no longer mess with.
So, as with all athletes who code-switch on whom we believed they once were, we God-bless them from afar. Watch as others deal with what we let go.
Jimmy Butler has returned to the forefront. Same thing, same scenario, same demand, different location. But this time the irreconcilable differences between him and his current team — the Miami Heat, a team he has led on improbable runs to two NBA Finals in the last five seasons — has gone disrespectfully nuclear, to the point that even Butler’s most loyal allies and defenders are side-eyeing him.
His new next level of ‘‘conduct detrimental’’ is giving the normal ‘‘conduct detrimental’’ a good name. Indifference be the difference. From moronic to masterful in what he’s doing. Because, at the end of every day when it comes to Butler getting what he wants, as proof has consistently proved in the past, he wins in the end.
And that’s what is being lost: the masterful part of exactly how Butler is repeating the same behavioral pattern in forcing a trade. Unless the Heat decide not to trade him by Thursday (the NBA trading deadline), Butler’s batting average in these situations is Josh Gibson.
Deference be the difference.
Someone asked, ‘‘Why are you all [the media] spending so much time talking about Jimmy Butler?’’ Why are we falling for his stunts and feeding into his performance art? Because every Butler episode is about what it represents, not about whom he is. As ‘‘Jimmy always does Jimmy’’ in times like this, his behavior and actions (and results) are bigger than him. They represent the power of the now athlete and how it balances the scales in professional sports in a way so many people hate and resent.
The outlying verdict on Butler: Jerk. A–hole. Insubordinate. Inconsiderate. Dishonorable. Straight-up wrong. Spoiled. Privileged. Malevolent. Poisonous. Drama king. All of the above, plus some. All represent everything Butler has come to stand for while still holding down a future, first-ballot Hall of Fame basketball career. As he has overstayed his welcome at every stop, he also — by his own tactics — has ended up on top. Every time.
Dislike or hate the way he continues to go about getting out of his contracts, we gotta (on some level, maybe many levels) respect it. He’s ‘‘trumping’’ the game on all sides. If it wasn’t so egregious, it would be beautiful. But that still doesn’t make it ugly.
So until the trade deadline comes, the ask: Why should this time be any different? Or, better phrased: What this time is going to make things different in the end? Why won’t Jimmy get his way this time?
(Is it the marketplace? Is it because it’s Heat president Pat Riley he’s dealing with? Is it that no team wants to put itself in the same position the Bulls, the Timberwolves, the Sixers and now the Heat find themselves in when you marry Butler with no prenup?)
The answer will probably be one of the most interesting this year in sports. His ‘‘fifth time’s a charm’’ will give license to players backed by unions a blueprint to push all other former methods to the side when openly soliciting a trade just to be like Jimmy.
Ben Simmons. James Harden. Kyrie (for different reasons). Kawhi (under different circumstances). Nothing can compare. Brett Favre and Aaron Rodgers, the blueprints. Too old-school now. Butler has moved the needle on how persistent trade ‘‘requests’’ can be effective if done the belligerent, perfect way. And that’s the beauty that we hate to love. The brilliance that we hate to respect. But must.
Which brings us back to representation and how that word applies to Butler specifically and to the bigger picture. Notably because there once was a time, not too far removed from now, when professional athletes didn’t have a say in anything concerning their careers. More pawns than players. New day. Making it still hard to side with the ‘‘how’’ and the ‘‘why’’ Butler goes about doing what he does but fully embracing the ‘‘can.’’
Lest we forget that ‘‘shut up and dribble’’ is still a thing in this land of the free and looming free agency.
And this coming from one who remains not in any way a Butler fan — on or off the court. But the esteem held for this gangsta, even as I inveigh his endgame moves, is eminent. As it should be for anyone who doesn’t have him on their roster and isn’t currently signing his $48.8 million ($52.4 million next season) check.
So you really have to sit back and ask yourself this one question: Would you rather have a single athlete like Butler challenge and manipulate the status quo within the rules of a collective-bargaining agreement between players and owners or return to what it used to be, when, ‘‘Yes, master,’’ or, “Yessir, boss,’’ were an athlete’s only recourse?