Well according to Richman this morning the Ant to Orlando rumor has legs...he's been at their playoff games and looks like they are now showing interest in bringing him home...this will be a huge move as it essentially jettisons the last of the Neil Olshey roster. Ant will be happy back home...he's close to his family and his favorite team is the Magic. Win win trade. Not sure what comes back but I would hope draft capital.
Scoot needs the rock. Needs the leash. Needs to learn how to drive the Ferrari
and crash it into a fire hydrant. With Anfernee soaking up usage and floating through defensive possessions like he’s above lateral movement, it’s hard to build the on-ball reps—and the culture—that a young team needs.
A three-team deal could fix that:
- Anfernee Simons goes to Orlando,
- Kentavious Caldwell-Pope and Denver’s pick go to Chicago,
- Portland gets Kevin Huerter, Gary Harris (as breathing contract ballast), and their own pick back from Chicago.
Basketball-wise, it’s a reasonable compromise. Huerter can shoot. He can space. He’ll let Scoot work. The defense might scream like a rusted hinge, but hey, at least Scoot’s driving.
But let’s not stop at the analytics.
Let’s talk about character.
Because there’s been this long-running myth in Portland that Anfernee Simons is a soft-spoken, humble, high-character guy. And maybe that was true when he was 20. But over the last few years, he’s gotten… weird. Cold. One veteran staffer swears Simons once
laughed when the team chef dropped a tray of salmon filets. Just stood there sipping a green smoothie and said, “Five-second rule,” while interns scrambled to save the lemon garnish.
There’s a custodian at the Moda Center—Marlene, God bless her—who swears Anfernee once tracked in muddy sneakers, walked past her mopping, and said, “That’s why we have you, right?”
That’s why we have you.
No please. No sorry. Just bourgeois contempt sprayed across her dignity like bleach on tile.
Now, is Kevin Huerter a perfect citizen? No. Definitely not.
There’s a story from the Phoenix airport where he got into it with a rental car agent who gently informed him the SUV he requested wasn’t available. Huerter, fresh off a back-to-back and allegedly short on REM sleep, reportedly narrowed his eyes and said:
“You one-eyed bastard.”
Now, to be fair, the man
was wearing an eye patch. And Huerter did come back five minutes later with an apology note and a voucher for Panda Express, which, honestly, is more remorse than most of us can muster.
So yeah—maybe Huerter has a temper. Maybe he needs some emotional coaching and a ban from Budget Rent-a-Car. But he’s a
role player. He spaces the floor. He gets out of Scoot’s way. And when the ball swings, he shoots. Cleanly. Like a man who knows better than to mock the sanitation crew.
Sometimes, the right move isn’t about PER or TS%. Sometimes it’s about restoring dignity to the mop.
Send Anfernee to Florida.
Give Scoot the keys.
And give Marlene a damn raise.
