It didn't matter that the words were misguided. They hurt the locals all the same.
"Tobias Harris over me?!" Jimmy Butler bellowed as he walked into the away team's locker room after sending the Miami Heat to the Eastern Conference finals and the Sixers home for the rest of the 2022 playoffs.
It was a painful reminder of the road the Sixers once traveled, and a painful reminder of the turn they made toward a dead end.
The point of Butler's words wasn't some revelation to Philadelphia's stakeholders. The thought crossed their minds several times before.
They thought about it when Harris record-scratched out of open threes, shrinking the floor for his running mates. They thought about it when he shot 8-for-24 in Game 7 against the Atlanta Hawks, missing the mark on layups and clanking shots that had otherwise fallen all season for him. They thought about it when he had moments of spirited vulnerability amid regular-season struggles. They thought about it every time he went missing in action, both in the regular season and in the playoffs.
It wasn't just about the fact that he wasn't capable of living up to the status of his contract. It was about his presence serving as a reminder of the one who got away.
Mandatory Credit: Bill Streicher-Imagn Images The regard for Harris is not why his time in Philadelphia will be remembered for everything it wasn't. The perceived opportunity cost of choosing Harris, even if not based in truth, is why his five-year stint will not be remembered fondly.
And yet, the same reasoning is why Paul George has an opportunity to earn love from the locals easily.
His playoff resume is checkered. That'll happen when you play more than 100 such games in your career. But, George's game represents everything Harris' wasn't.
The three-point volume. The ability to create for himself off the dribble, even if it's not as sharp as it once was. The athleticism. The finishing at the rim. The ball-handling. The defending. The fit.
In time, we'll know whether the demeanor is the same. That might be all that matters come playoff time, the rest flying out the window when the lights are the brightest.
But, George doesn't come with the association with Butler. He doesn't carry the opportunity cost that Harris (wrongfully) carried on his shoulders.
If anything, he comes with a halo hovering over his head, the skills to be the franchise needle-mover that Harris wasn't in the memories of Philadelphia.
That's why George has a unique opportunity. The chance to garner warmth from the locals with ease that perhaps only Bryce Harper has experienced.
Harris had to be the player he'd never proven capable of being. All George has to do is be the player he's always been.
