Watching the NBA playoffs this weekend got me thinking about a player not actually in the Big Show this year. I grew up adoring Vince Carter; his was the first NBA jersey I bought and his shoes were the first (and only!) that I shelled out over $100 for. That was back in 2000, though, when VC was just hitting his prime. He killed in the dunk contest that year, putting together a performance that has yet to be equaled in the 9 years since. His ceiling was ostensibly infinite, until, of course, the walls came tumbling down on his incredible potential.
For years, he was branded as a lazy, money-hungry player who was nothing more than a cancer on whatever team was so unlucky to have him. Recently, though, I've felt a real re-emergence in the public's love for His Airness II. This year, he was the leader of a talented Nets squad, and played the role of experienced yet still-skilled veteran to up-and-comers Brook Lopez and Devin Harris. For the first time since coming to the Nets, after the departure of Jason Kidd and Richard Jefferson, he looked comfortable playing the role he was in. He's become a joy to watch again, and while I never lost my love for his incredible game, I finally felt justified in spending years and years of energy defending his actions. He may not have become the superstar we envisioned him turning out to be, but I'm ok with his legacy being that of an immensely talented player with one great claim to fame.
Justifying Vince Carter
