Ben Simmons: About hope and basketball

At Brooklyn Nets media day, Ben Simmons sat surrounded by TV cameras and microphones, fill lights and eager eyes, answering questions from the media. He looked uncomfortable but exuded confidence.

“I think people forget that as a player I can play basketball when I'm healthy. I’m feeling pretty good, right?”

Ben Simmons Was pretty good, right? You would think so. I own his jersey in three different sizes. I watched him get drafted when he was just 19 years old, cheered him on in the stands, bought stuffed animals from him, and pretended to be him on the basketball court.

I remember discovering basketball in 2016, the year Simmons was drafted. I went to Gamestop and bought a copy of NBA 2K17 on a whim. To my surprise, I couldn't stop playing. The gameplay didn't intrigue me; Instead, I was fascinated by the players. I spent hours combing through the game's catalog of classic teams: the 1994 Magic, the 2004 Suns and the 1996 Bulls. I remember stumbling upon the 1987 Lakers and Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul- Jabbar discovered. They were also incredibly cool as digital avatars. At the age of 10, I found myself in a rare borderline state. I was old enough to eagerly learn and retain information, but young enough to seek it out in a plethora of delightfully clumsy ways. I sat in a beanbag chair with a bowl of cereal and a broken controller and unfolded a culture, a history, and its wonders.

Soon after, I started watching the 76ers, my dad's favorite team. They were terrible, uniquely terrible, and I wanted them to win So bad. There were bright spots, however; Center Joel Embiid showed great potential and they had Ben Simmons with the first overall pick. He did not play this season and was sidelined by a broken metatarsal bone in his right foot. In 2016, he was the top prospect in the draft and the Sixers were the worst team in the league. With the best chance of getting the first pick in the lottery, they won and took Simmons – Ben Simmons! – the next Lebron James. He could pass like Pete Maravich and hit like Kobe Bryant. He was tall but slim, with broad shoulders and perfect proportions. It belonged to Michelangelo “David”, a physical manifestation of the ideal human being. Simmons – the answer – sat there all season. In some ways, the anticipation made his return more exciting; it was easier to idealize.

When Simmons came back he was great. In his four playing seasons with the Sixers, he was a three-time All-Star, a two-time All-NBA defenseman, and the 2017 NBA Rookie of the Year. Obviously, I was a believer, a “believer” of sorts, and I collected his merchandise with great enthusiasm . However, he was not without his flaws, particularly on the pitch. He couldn't shoot the basketball. Every year there were rumors about off-season workouts about how he finally learned to shoot. However, he never did, and to some extent he never tried. He blamed everyone – the fans, the media, the coaches – everyone but himself. Still, Philadelphia reached the postseason four times with Simmons. However, they never escaped the second round. Many blamed Simmons for this, perhaps rightly so. If Simmons did learn to shoot when he did Who knows how good the Sixers could have been if he expanded his game?

The truth is that nothing materialized, and in 2021, Simmons requested a trade from the Sixers and refused to play, citing a lack of support within the organization. The whole thing made me sad. I had invested a lot of time, money and energy into Simmons. He symbolized something I once was, a naive curiosity I once had. In 2022, Simmons got his wish. He was gone – sold to the Nets. I was disappointed, not devastated; At that point, Simmons made his desire clear: He wanted a fresh start, and I was older—and busier.

With the Nets, Simmons played in 57 of 162 possible games. In these games he looks tired, worn out and ready to move on. Worse, players don't portray Simmons as the nicest guy either, describing him as nervous and arrogant. The guy who quits working for a celebrity. As a viewer, there has always been something unusual about Simmons' demeanor – the way he answers questions – he is above the questions, above the viewer, above you and me. Sometimes it seems to me that he actually believes that he is the ideal man – the hero that I saw him as. I hope Simmons succeeds; I hope he's healthy and an all-star, but honestly I've moved on. If I am the Giving Tree, Ben Simmons is the boy. I have given him my apples, my branches, and my trunk; I supported, I cheered and idolized; I just have nothing left to give. I don't regret it; I just want my trunk back, my branches back, and that 10-year-old excitement—that temporary state—that I invested all in Simmons. However, perhaps my loss is not his or my fault, but that of time. This condition, this branch broke off at some point and now it is just a piece of driftwood, lost in the flow of time.