Does the perfect trade exist?  How does that look?  The one where you outplay, outwit, and outlast another competitive team, and the ensuing results take you past the pack, potentially to the trophy; or is it the exploitative, manipulated, uneven swindle, where your team floats like cream, whilst the other is set back for years to come?

As I come to terms with my hardest week in the NSL, I've found myself wading through a level of analysis (both team and self) that would have been real handy five days ago.  As each day passes, the more I see the errors of judgment in value and need.   Value will always be seen in the eye of the beholder, and thirty GMs will have thirty different views.  In the wake of my first great mistake at the helm of the OKC Thunder, I thought it an interesting notion to unpack the rationale (at the time) behind the deal.

First and foremost, it was fit.  Fox became my Achilles heel, the most tangible asset apart from Ant, but clearly a giant killer, the David to his own teammates.  The more I research, the more I understand his fit is on a team centred around him.  But how, with the assets I have (had), can one focus on a player who can be brilliant at times and so frustrating at others?  All the while viewing his lack of efficiency IRL, on a team that frankly doesn't need his services.  His ability to drown the star is remarkable.  When I couldn't move him, I overcorrected and started looking for a fit around him.  

Do I regret the Anthony Edwards trade?  Depends on the minute of the day.  As every week rolls by and I learn more and more about the playbook options and the coaching controls, I realise that I probably didn't have a handle on it enough to maximise his potential.  I saw the outstanding individual results of Durant, Wemby, and Booker and wondered why I wasn't getting the same from my star.   Watching him thrive elsewhere is something I'll endure.  The counter, of course, is that the draft capital that accompanied Donovan Mitchell's return provided longer-term competitiveness rather than imminent reconstruction.  

Now, back to the argument for fit.  Scratch below the surface on 2k's ability to run two downhill, ball-hog guards together, and it gets pretty specific about the players and tactics that need to establish that.  Whilst not the first name on my list, Turner's ability to space the floor was a key aspect in my pursuit.   Turner's ability to stretch the floor as a legitimate pick-and-pop threat means widening the lanes for Fox and Donovan so they wouldn't be forced to stay outside.  This can then keep weakside defenders occupied and prevent the paint from getting crowded—”something I felt can happen quickly with Ayton, who operated primarily inside and couldn't consistently pull opposing centres out of the lane.  From what I'd watched, against elite centres, Ayton just couldn't hold his place.  If I'm meant to be competing this year, against the potential likes of Giannis, Wemby or Holmgren (shall I go on?), then without elite perimeter shooting, Ayton wouldn't cut the mustard.  If Turner can keep those guys at least occupied, then I hope that can elevate Fox and Mitchell's elite inside shooting.  Fingers crossed emoji.

The second argument is the value and distribution of assets.   As a new GM, distinguishing a player's potential from their output can be hard at times.  Critics aren't wrong to point out the value that I sent out.  After a week of wound licking, I'm the first to tell you I got it wrong.   

When I took over the team, I saw a condensation of value in two players (one on the verge of retirement) and a famine of draft capital.  The last GM clearly had burned brightest at the end, but salvation under that guise was never possible.   The desire to see the greatest three-point shooter of all time shifted to a contender was always going to be a loss.  I would have loved to have seen Curry and Edwards play together, but a GM that doesn't take a good look at his team's outlook on first-round exit as a #1 seed is doing a disservice to his organisation.   In that trade, I got it right (with a little help from my friends).  In hindsight, in this trade, I should have leant harder on my colleagues.  

Now the elephant in the room is Deni.  First-time All-Star, IRL success story.  I could have sold A LOT higher than I did, and I consider it a lesson learned.  However, that's a hard salary to move.  To get equal value would require moving another piece, and I knew I would lose Ayton in the new year.  For all Deni's IRL hype (and I loved watching him), I never felt like I saw that during his time at OKC. Swallowed by the Fox/Edwards, Fox/Mitchell hyrdas, he never shone.  2k will no doubt acknowledge his 25/26 feats and redesign him in the new year, and I hope he shines in our format.  In the end, I needed more pick value.  How much more, without killing the deal, will be the legacy of this trade.  (I also needed to spend some time looking at the standings.  Wouldn't now be a good time to throw in the towel, Charlotte?)

In regards to assets, as a father, a full-time singer, a business owner, a Masters student, and a GM, I have to be realistic about the content contribution this wonderful league deserves.  The resulting GMs and their currency in FA are unlikely to be the vehicle for my team's renovation.  I'd even admit that I'd likely lack the courage to throw down the heart-in-mouth 99 bid, aware that my "life luck" works differently than most.  I've played a ton of fantasy sports and never won the chocolates, so the belief that the cards will fall my way runs thin.  With that said, and as previously mentioned, Ayton, in my mind, as solid an NSL asset as he is, was on a one-way ticket in FA, so I always felt like he was a value to trade for something a little more permanent.  Turning him into Deandre Hunter (sigh), Sam Merrill, and Brice Sensabaugh feels like a pretty solid return.  Locking those players in for the future makes sense to me.

There is a psychology to trading, too. How often do we move players just for the sake of it, for the hunt, the pursuit of a deal? JMAC is a prime research candidate on the potential effects of trade addiction;  the Ben Cousins, Paul Kelly, high-functioning kind of addict.  I've been here six months and already find myself at the back alley, opium den door, scratching the permutations of a deal.  I think my incessant failure to shop Deaaron Fox meant the noise just got louder, the itch more insatiable.  As the facilitator of every theoretical deal, and the noise of rejection that accompanies much of it, when the Mavs knocked on the door, the needle was already in my arm.

In the cold light of day, wounded by the reaction (to a deal I'd convinced myself was tidy), I'm a better GM.  With not a single player left standing from the list I inherited, it's time to put them to work (a huge middle finger to the team optometrist at Sacramento aside).  Fit and value will show their true colours on the court, and if the painting doesn't turn out the way I want, then I'll have no worries returning, arm extended to the pleasures of the trading needle.

Cake