A few months ago I wrote a Mailbag article with the thesis that the Portland Trail Blazers are now a fairly nondescript NBA team, with nothing in particular to differentiate them from any other franchise in the league. The upshot is, it’s even harder for Portland to attract prime players amid a sea of competitors when they have no way to get noticed: no recent track record of excellence, no winning, no extra dollars or willingness to spend, no income tax breaks, no major local sponsors, and no overtly
famous features of the city (beaches, nightlife, etc.)
One Blazer’s Edge Reader took exception to that column, submitting a retort a few days after. This has been heavily edited for publishing (and decency) purposes, but let’s share it.
Dave,
You’re telling me you can’t think of even one reason players should flock to this team? What kind of fan are you? You need to step down and shut up if you can’t think of one thing to say about a team with a 50 year history in one of the most liveable [sic] cities in the country. What about Walton? What about Drexler? What about Dame who is still with the team? What about Jack Ramsey [sic] and Rick Adelman? Great players and coaches have come here and should continue to come here. Quit your job and become a grumpy [redacted profanity] in a cave somewhere. Leave talking about the Blazers to someone who actually loves and respects them.
[name withheld]
Folks, that was one paragraph. There was more.
Valid question, though. I want to give a two-pronged response to this.
First, you bet that I, personally, can think of a hundred reasons to love the Blazers! Ask me if I’d play for them, given the chance. My best days are way behind me, but I’d jump at the opportunity, of course. So would nearly everybody reading this. It’s like a dream, right?
But that doesn’t matter, because you and I aren’t NBA players. Playing in the league for them isn’t a fan or analyst dream, it’s a cold, hard business reality. NBA players have short careers with significant compensation and legacy on the line. This will be THE thing they’re known for their whole lives. They will never get paid as much money as they’re going to make during their years in the league. They have trained and sacrificed for this opportunity. They have to treat this like a business, a professional investment. That’s what it is for them.
Understanding that difference is crucial. We can all think of lots of attractive things about the Blazers from a personal, fan standpoint. We watched while Clyde soared and Dame lofted buzzer-beaters. Those events are a decade old now, at minimum. Many of the things we lovingly remember about the team are ancient history. Similarly, we have an attachment to the city and region in which we live and flourish. If we weren’t living there, though, if we were to compare Portland to a buffet of other cities, we’d realize that almost every municipality has something about it to like. The point isn’t whether you can find good things here. That’s true everywhere! It’s whether those good things stand out enough among the good things of every other city in contention, absent the emotional attachment of its residents. (Because professional players don’t have those attachments.)
If I’m making a personal, emotional, fan decision about the club, I can sing their praises for days. If I’m stepping back as a professional player, entitled by talent and work history to play in this league wherever he chooses, the viewpoint is much different.
I try to explain this to people all the time. The lens I usually use is my day job as a pastor, a church minister.
As a pastor, I am as deeply involved in the life and community of the church I serve as you can imagine. No singular person is more committed, more embedded, more connected to the life and breath of the congregation. I give my time, my energy, in many ways my life to the service.
At the same time, no church that I serve is ever “my” church. I am a professional in that environment, with defined role, duties, and boundaries. The terms of our ongoing contractual agreement define the responsibilities and limits of the relationship. They also create a necessary and healthy separation between the pastor and the people who inhabit the church.
Many people who have been in this congregation their whole lives have a deep and heartfelt investment in the community. They care about the church. They root for its success. They remember the joys and struggles of its history. They invest 100% in this community in their own ways. They’ll never have another church but this one. As such, positive associations are important to them: reassurance, joyous participation, advocacy.
As a professional, trained to operate in this environment in particular, but crucial, ways, my view has to be different. Criticizing the church and its ministry might be anathema to a lifelong member who has dedicated their heart to the ministry. By contrast, it’s one of my responsibilities. I have to step back and look at the community with a critical eye, not just blindly accepting that everything we do is right just because we do it and mean well. If I were to adopt that view, we might end up hurting people unintentionally as we failed to recognize our own shortcomings. We wouldn’t change or grow either, as we’d be eternally looking backwards, satisfied with an idealized version of who we were instead of asking important questions about who we’re called to become.
Just as critically, I’m called to ask those same, piercing questions from a personal perspective. Is this church the right place for me and my gifts? Is it supportive of my family and their needs? Am I growing and evolving here as a person and a professional or am I stagnating? Is the compensation fair? Am I getting enough help, rest, and feedback? Does this feel like the place I’m supposed to be?
Again, from the perspective of a lifelong member, the answers are obvious. The questions don’t even need to be asked! “We love this place! It’s perfect! End of story!” But all of those responses put together don’t really address even one of the issues that I have to consider as a professional in the environment. Going with that lifelong-member sentiment without any critical thinking alongside will inhibit the relationship and the purpose of the ministry, not enhance them. Ultimately, somebody does have to ask the questions. So we do!
Sometimes, at the end of things, either I or the congregation are forced to say things like, “This just isn’t the right place or time for us to be together.” That’s not a failure or a criticism. That’s a valid answer to those important questions we listed above. It’s a sign of health, not just of brokenness or disappointment. They’re free to say that. So am I. That’s the nature of a professional relationship.
Here’s the point. You can port this almost exactly to the relationship between professional NBA players and their teams.
On one side of the equation you have devoted fans. Like lifelong members of the congregation, their voices lift in praise. Their hymn is loyalty. Their aim is to make this team better no matter what, because it’s everything to them. This is an important perspective! Without it there’s no passion, no community. Eliminating it would be tragic. But that isn’t the only perspective possible, nor the only one necessary.
Professionals who operate in this environment need to ask different questions the same way the pastor does in a church. Is this place succeeding? Is it doing the things that lead to growth and life? Is there room for me? Do I fit here? Does it feel like I’m supposed to be here? Am I going to get enough help, rest, compensation, and opportunity for growth? All of these issues have to be addressed before a player even joins the team, then followed up on once they become a member of the organization. Otherwise neither they nor the organization will succeed.
It’s absolutely possible for players and coaches to develop a soul-deep relationship with their franchises similar to fans. It happens all the time! But that’s usually because those questions were answered positively, the relationship was productive, and everyone enjoyed the experience. That devotion is earned, not assumed or demanded contractually. It also has boundaries, the same way any professional relationship does. When the contract is over (or he gets traded), that player is no longer bound to the team in the same way. But fan passion still goes on unabated.
Long story short, we can think of a million personal, lifelong-fan things to love about the Trail Blazers franchise. When we’re talking about attracting and retaining NBA players, though, we need to ask whether we can come up with technical, professional reasons to love this franchise…not just abstractly, but competitively, more than any of the other 29 teams in the league. That’s what it takes to make the organization rise above its competitors.
Understanding this, we can now turn to the second part of the response. I want to ask whether you, dear readers, can answer the question in a way that I can’t right now. We know all the fan-loyalty reasons to love the Trail Blazers. We don’t need to rehearse those. They’re engraved on our hearts. I want to know, can you think of empirical, professional reasons to value this team above its rivals in 2026, reasons that would speak to some of those critical questions we posed above? (Note: They’d need to be reasons than not every team can claim. Otherwise, other franchises could simply say, “Us too!” and cancel them out.) If so, what are they? If not, what do you see the team needing to do in order to generate more positive response?
Share your thoughts about these questions in the comments section below. And if you want to submit your own Mailbag question, send it to blazersub@gmail.com! We’ll try to answer as many as possible.
