There are many Raptor fans who've resorted to using the old school girl routine to hide their disappointment with the soon-to-be former Raptor's recent Twitter debacle where he all but admitted that he was leaving in an effort to prompt his fans and followers to suggest to him where he should be going.
Bosh's inferiority complex is on full display now. Being talked about as the Robin to LeBron, Joe Johnson or Dwyane Wade's Batman, having Zach Randolph and Amar'e Stoudemire each call him out, having his manhood questioned by Shaquille O'Neal and having New York writers publicly questioning if he was any better than a glorified role player like David Lee are just a few of the many things Bosh has had to deal with in the past 18 months.
In fact, Bosh is right to feel slighted and blame his lack of elite status on his perception that the majority of NBA players and beat writers still consider Toronto a second-rate market and an NBA outpost. The truth however is that true superstars shine regardless of where they're playing.
Vince Carter was the most popular basketball player in the world for almost four years as a Raptor, Kevin Garnett was considered an elite superstar and future hall-of-famer in one of the NBA's smallest markets in Minnesota. In fact, Deron Williams, John Stockton and Karl Malone had no problem doing it in Salt Lake City of all places.
Bosh feels slighted because he feels his resume should speak for itself, and he's right. He's a perennial All-star, a 20-10 threat every time he walks on the court, and he led a team to an Atlantic division title at 23.
What Bosh fails to recognize, is that there is more on his resume than he cares to acknowledge. He's the franchise player who allowed Kobe Bryant to score eighty-one points without as much as getting into foul trouble trying to stop him.
He's a player who fails to play through injuries, learn how to defend, develop a post-game and has won a grand total of three playoff games in seven years.
He's also been a player who's always wilted when his team required the most of him, and a player who's slowly become one of the worst interior defenders in the league.
His status as a blooming power-forward ready to fill the shoes of Duncan and Garnett is no more. What he is today is simply a talented player putting up big numbers on a team which hasn't made the playoffs in two years.
It's no surprise that players like Zach Randolph and Amar'e Stoudemire haven't hesitated to say they were better players than Bosh, almost laughing off the suggestion that Bosh was a superstar. It doesn't surprise me that O'Neal essentially called him a drag-queen. Bosh isn't just saving his best for when the world is watching. In his last two trips to the playoffs, he's been anything but spectacular.
Bosh has resorted to blaming the team around him, and has done so both tastefully and disrespectfully this season. It seems like the team's struggles are a "we" problem, and when the team is winning, it becomes an "I" solution.
Luckily for him, he doesn't have a single Ron Artest, Rasheed Wallace, or Zach Randolph on his team who would retaliate by questioning the leadership of the man who's supposedly nagging injuries, lack of assertion, turnovers. and terrible play over the last 30 games caused the Raptors to drop from fifth to ninth in a terrible Eastern Conference.
While most Raptor fans are just now starting to turn on Bosh, I turned on him the minute I saw his true colors in 2006. It was at that point that All-Star votes become more important than winning, making YouTube videos become more important than adding weight in the gym.
It was at that point that I realized that Bosh doesn't do the small things, or play solid defense because there is no statistical reward for doing these things. Let's just say my Chris Bosh jersey has been in a box for a long time.
Wherever he goes, he'll have about two years before he becomes a bloated contract tied to a completely useless player. He doesn't have the defensive ability or post game to survive once his quickness goes. He essentially becomes Juwan Howard at age 30.
I'm not entirely positive about the rest of the league, but I'd think many times before signing on for six years of Chris Bosh when the latter part of those six years is undoubtedly going to give me an aging, oft-injured, one-dimensional jump-shooting big man who may or may not make creative YouTube videos. If I could speak to Bosh, I would not be begging him to stay.
I would say nothing along the lines of "Don't be like Vince". He isn't Vince. He's not even close. That would be a compliment more than anything. Carter has been the number one option for every team he's ever played for at the NBA level. No, to Bosh I would simply say "don't let the door hit you on your way out."
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