Hopelessly devoted

On Ja Morant and an emotionally exhausting European road trip

(Photo by Pamela Costello/NBAE via Getty Images)

The most tumultuous week in Memphis Grizzlies history concluded on a sunny afternoon in London.

When the NBA announced it would host two European games this season — back-to-back matchups between the Orlando Magic and Memphis Grizzlies, first in Germany and then days later in England — there were a few logical reasons for this pairing. The Magic roster features three German players. Desmond Bane had been traded from Memphis to Orlando over the summer. More than anything, it was another opportunity for the NBA to expand its global fanbase.

Any storyline was swept aside by the tidal wave of drama.

Just days before the teams boarded their international flights, Shams Charania reported that the Grizzlies were willing to consider trades for their franchise star, Ja Morant, for the first time.

Despite years of off-court controversies and injuries, the news was gutting to Grizzlies fans. Ja Morant is the first superstar this franchise has ever had. His electric play catapulted Memphis into national relevance, and that fire — paired with his devotion to the city — made him a local hero. For years, Grizzlies fans have ridden the turbulent waves with Ja, clinging to a slowly sinking ship like a lifeboat.

Now, it felt like we were finally being pulled under.

He was going to be traded. His value was low. He wanted Miami. He bought a house in Miami. He was done. He was gone. The constant hum of speculation weighed heavily on the shaken fanbase.

The looming Europe trip only added another layer of anxiety.

Would Ja even go?

He didn’t let the ink on the initial report dry before retweeting: “Don’t expect loyalty from someone in survival mode.” It seemed obvious that somebody who has become synonymous with drama would not take kindly to news that his team was shopping him.

But Ja joined the Grizzlies in Berlin. When he stepped onto the podium for his first scheduled media appearance since the report, everybody held their breath.

A visibly hardened Ja was asked about the sadness Grizzlies fans were expressing at the thought of losing him.

“I think y’all should be more worried about my reaction and not other people,” he said. “My reaction is more important.”

It wasn’t exactly comforting.

Hours later, footage surfaced of him engaged in a heated argument with teammate Vince Williams Jr. during an open practice.

He’s just being a good leader. I sighed as I read the arguments from fellow Grizzlies fans.

I thought about how many times I, too, had bent reality to defend him. This man had me sounding like a Second Amendment activist at points. I hate guns!

After a week of emotional whiplash, this newest piece of drama felt like the sign I needed. I was exhausted. Maybe an ending wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Ja didn’t play in Berlin. Officially, it was a calf contusion. Unofficially, his face had been plastered all throughout the city to promote the game, the coach had said he’d probably play, and now he was suddenly unavailable. Fans connected the dots, forced to confront a reality where he’d never suit up for the Grizzlies again.

When the game began, all eyes were on the player who wasn’t in uniform. Ja was more engaged than ever as his teammates battled on the court. The image of him smiling and cheering from the bench tugged at Grizzlies fans, another bump on this emotional rollercoaster. This didn’t look like someone ready to leave their team.

I stayed cynical, wearing my doubt like armor. Of course he was outwardly enthusiastic. Anything else would’ve been a PR nightmare, especially after the practice incident. This is a player who has a signature shoe with Nike; one with enough gravitational pull to be met with deafening applause in another country.

After a loss, the team jetted off to London. News spread that Ja was going to play. This, combined with his animated bench presence in Berlin, had some fans feeling hopeful. I assumed it was simply a call from the big boss. This was an international showcase. Everyone saw he was healthy. He had to play.

I posted a photo of George Washington and Hamilton from Hamilton, alluding to One Last Time.

I believed I was wise and healed. I was neither.

Ja Morant played his intoxicating brand of basketball, leading the Grizzlies to victory with a smile, and just like that, he reeled me back in. I was so sure I was free. All it took was one game.

Following the blowout win, Ja sat at the podium and addressed the rumors. Where does he want to be?

“I got a (Grizzlies) logo on my back,” he said. “That should tell you where I want to be.”

And suddenly, there I was again — grasping at a dying era that had caused me more suffering than joy — all because of a single glimmer of hope found in London.

It was naive of me to believe logic ever had a place here. The greatest currency in sports fandom is hope. As long as hope exists, we are prisoners.