Earlier this week, Vince Carter announced his official retirement from professional basketball on his podcast Winging It. Before we get into the breakdown of VC’s career, I’d just like to point out that Winging It was possibly the worst medium to make such a massive announcement on. Yes, podcasts are bigger than ever before and I acknowledge that. You know what podcast isn’t? Winging It with Vince Carter. Coming from one of The Ringer’s biggest fans, this was a missed opportunity. It’s VC’s last moment as a NBA player, make it a production.
While my criticism of his announcement is mostly a joke, his NBA résumé is not. His illustrious 22 year career with 8 different teams has earned him a large faction of fans. Vince’s missteps are barely remembered while his best moments have remained relevant decades later. Vince should consider himself to be among the luckiest NBA stars in history for that reason. Basketball culture could very easily scrutinize the details of each individual season and accolade of his career and find a multitude of problems. But they don’t. Why? Because Vince Carter was a GOOD player, never great. Despite this, we’ve given him the pedigree of a legend that he never was. The analytical side of my brain hates this, but in reality it’s the perfect way to view Vince. He was never a franchise altering star or someone who could turn a playoff team into a contender and that’s okay. What he did provide was 70+ nights of surefire entertainment. Just watch any game from the Toronto years and you’re guaranteed to witness some of the most jaw dropping athleticism to ever grace a basketball court.
Vince coasted on his freakish bounce for the first 10 years of his career, good for 8 All Star appearances. However, his second act as a pure ‘3 and D’ wing is almost more impressive to me than the entirety of the 2000 Dunk Contest. Vince’s seamless adaptation of his game is among the most astonishing feats in sports. While I expect more players to do the same in the future (Kawhi, Harden, George), Vince’s transition alongside Ray Allen’s created an incredible blueprint for a player ensuring their longevity as they age. Just the fact that he played 76 quality games at 42 years old is enough to solidify his claim as the most durable player ever, a title that could only be challenged by Robert Parish or LeBron.
To me, VC is the model archetype for how we should appreciate above average talent in sports. He’s not an all time great and he was never supposed to be. He’s such a rare figure in sports where he’s seemingly immune to the pressures of advanced stats and the constant probing that today’s generation is plagued with. The best part about Vince is the fun universal appeal that his gameplay adheres to. We all love Vince (except for those ugly years after the Toronto exit). There’s a kind of solidarity that comes from someone like him. We all know his place in the sport and we’ve just accepted him for who he is. It’s beautiful. The title of this article is somewhat misleading as I don’t even plan to answer it. I don’t care if Vince is better or worse than Reggie Miller, I just want to watch his highlights and appreciate the basketball euphoria it creates.
As a 11 year old kid being born after he was already an All Star, I still latched onto him. The first jersey I ever had was his Grizzlies #15. Certain players have a magical quality to them and he’s one of them. My only hope is that future generations will see that same magic in him.
Image Credit: Jed Jacobsohn