By Isaac Huss
For a single, 31-year-old diehard Twins fan, trade deadlines are basically like Valentine’s day. You’re never unaware that it’s happening, and once every few years there’s someone new in your life that warrants your attention (the name Shannon comes to mind..Shannon Stewart, that is), but typically it comes and goes without so much as a raised eyebrow.
Then consider that the NBA closes trade season in mid-to-late February, and you’ll begin to understand why my unhealthy and irrational 7-year love affair with Ricky Rubio feels a bit threatened this time of year. Imagine my trepidation when the late great Flip Saunders (RIP) and now Tom Thibodeau are dangling the Babe from Barcelona into the trade waters, hoping someone, something would bite.
It was already about all that I (and my Twitter feed) could take when ESPN’s Brian Windhorst made it very clear that Thibs was trying to move Ricky, and that was long before Rubio dramatically started social media flirting with Kristaps Porzingis (he’s mine, Zingis).
I tried to quit Rubio, I did. I was convinced at the end of last year that, even as the team was making improvements, Ricky’s wasn’t. This was most obvious in the open jump shooting and finishing at the rim categories, of course. But it was his tendency to tense up and force bad passes and shots as the game tightened that was as much of a concern as any. After all, there are five guys on the court, and only one of them needs to shoot. But if one of them can’t shoot and can’t pass or make simple decisions about whether to do one or the other, well, then, the writing’s on the wall.
I also started to allow my heart to stray towards another: Kris Dunn. I was convinced by the draft lottery in May that Dunn was definitely the third-best player in the draft at worst. His combination of playmaking and scoring along with aggressive, physical defense had me dreaming about another favorite point guard of mine: Gary Payton. And while the Wolves staying at #5 wasn’t terribly promising in its likelihood of netting Dunn, I wasn’t without hope that he would fall to the Timberwolves at #5, and by golly he did.
Almost immediately, Woj bombs started dropping all around me claiming that Rubio was surely to be traded sooner rather than later, and just as immediately I had regretted my role in coveting Dunn. I should have known that Thibs would see Dunn as his guy and that Rubio would have to go. I was naive, in hindsight, to think we could draft Dunn and have him and Rubio coexist like Isiah and Dumars, hell even Ricky and Johnny (Flynn). After all, Jamal Murray was still available, and while I considered him a hair below Dunn based primarily on the defensive discrepancy between them (in favor of Dunn), I would now have preferred Murray if only it meant filling a more obvious need while more importantly not displacing Rubio, my love.
Well, to the surprise of just about everybody, Rubio not only survived that draft night in the blue and green but also the rest of the offseason, and was the opening day starter to kick off the 2016-17 season. But not even Dunn’s atrocious start to his NBA career could seem to dim Thibodeau’s affinity for him and subsequently his desire to unload Rubio to free up the starter position in the near--if not immediate--future.
Fast forward to the 2017 NBA trade deadline and you had all the makings of a Rubio trade: the lingering stench of the Reggie Jackson rumor (pull my hair back?), the less nauseating but not much more palatable Iman Shumpert rumor, and then the newest and sexiest but no less head-scratching, the Derrick Rose (and Joakim Noah) rumor, complete with Ricky and Kristaps sitting in a Twitter tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
You had Thibodeau effusing praise upon Dunn for months without giving Rubio a whiff of a vote of confidence, even though Ricky is by far the greatest veteran presence on the team (and it’s not even close) and has been showing real signs of turning a corner in terms of running Thibs’ offense, posting an incredible assist-to-turnover rate--despite some of the greatest degree of difficulty passes in the L--and even individual shooting-wise improvements.
The ultimate test of irrational fandom for a favorite individual player on a favorite team is how you would feel if he was traded away in an obviously beneficial trade scenario for your team (and even for your favorite player). For instance, if Ricky were to be traded to Indiana along with Shabazz, Brandon Rush, a number 1 and a number 2 draft pick for Paul George and Monta Ellis, that would be an objectively amazing trade for the hometown Timberwolves that might even make New Orleans blush.
But, admittedly, I would have a hard time getting excited about a trade like that, even in all its glory, but for the sole fact that it would mean Rubio would be leaving town. Even now, if I know Rubio isn’t going to be playing (like when he missed five games in November), I’m significantly less excited to watch even the likes of Karl-Anthony Towns, Andrew Wiggins, and Zach LaVine. It’s a problem, I know.
There’s just something about the way the man plays the game. He plays hard every minute. He never takes a play off on offense or defense. He’s constantly communicating with his teammates and coaches, on offense and defense, even in fleeting glances that set up jaw-dropping alley-oops or 70-foot leak outs. As Bill Simmons described his experience watching Larry Bird in The Book of Basketball, Rubio changes the way you watch the game. You start to see what he sees: plays developing ahead of time; open passing lanes before they open; hell, you even expect other NBA players to give their all like Rubio does, which is, shall we say, not typical.
Perhaps the most remarkable thing about Rubio’s play, however, is that he is so relatable. He’s certainly taller, longer, more Spanish, and better looking than most of us, but by all accounts, he’s a slow white guy who can’t jump or shoot. He plays with incredible emotion and leaves his heart on his sleeve. He tells teammates, “Change your face.” He cheers on the third-string point guard when he hits the game-winning shot after he supplanted Rubio himself in the crunch time lineup. What Rubio feels, we feel.
And, best of all--from a Timberwolves standpoint, anyway--Andrew Wiggins has shown himself more than capable of being the primary ball handler and setting up the offense (oftentimes himself) during crunch time. Not that I would ever prefer Rubio to stand in the corner spotting up during any set offensive play (ever), mind you.
But it does serve two purposes: 1. Starting the offense with Wiggins prevents teams from denying Wiggins the ball late in the shot clock and 2. It serves to help the team (and its fans) to avoid repeating the debacle against the Clippers four years ago when Kevin Martin had his pocket picked clean by Jamal Crawford when Martin was trying to bring the ball up the floor in the key play that helped turned a huge Timberwolves win into a crushing loss.
No, Rubio is no longer the liability in the clutch that he once was. He’s more of a threat with his shooting, and that seems to have bolstered his confidence and helped his ability to make the right pass with the game on the line. And, when he has an off game, Tyus Jones has shown the ability (as mentioned earlier) to step in and knock down shots when called upon.
So I’ll go to sleep tonight and rest easy knowing the trade talk has died down, that Thibs said he doesn’t see a trade that would improve his team (and those who heard him actually believe him), that he’s happy with his team as-is, and that we’ll likely have another Minnesota trade deadline come and go without anyone to show for it.
But until that 2pm deadline passes, I won’t be able to help still sweating it out, knowing that my favorite player, Ricky Ricard Rubio Vives may be slangin' his passes elsewhere--if not this week, then soon enough. And I’ll be sad. Like a jealous lover.
This post was amended on 2/23/2017 to account for the author's incorrect reporting of his own age.
This post was amended on 2/23/2017 to account for the author's incorrect reporting of his own age.
