Charting the four absolute loseringest losers of the NBA draft

Well, the important part of the NBA Draft is over, so let us gleefully pick through the wreckage and laugh at the losers. 



The Philadephia 76ers, for proving that the classics never go out of style.

‘The Process’ is a state of mind, born from the crucible of loss. The Sixers were going to lose, and they were going to lose best. The problem is that they’re actually pretty shit at it – but that doesn’t make them good. The Sixers tend to wander into the draft like a blind kid into oncoming traffic. Nerlens Noel (great hair aside) was shuttled off to the Mavericks, the time-traveller from 1995, Jahlil Okafor, was unfortunate enough to be trapped in this alternate timeline, now playing for the Brooklyn Nets, and the less said about Michael Carter-Williams the better. Only Ben Simmons and Joel Embiid worked out, and they were dangerously close to the glue factory.

This year, they drafted Mikal Bridges, a stretch 2-3-4 who is defensively long and can hit the three. Seems a scary fit and a smart pick. They were fortunate to get him at #10, but Philly being Philly, they soon did this:



You see, much like every basic lad on Tinder, Philly is very good at telling you all the things they want to do to you, and you very much like the sound of it, but when it comes to the moment when the lights go off, you’re worked over with a halfie as they pretend they know what they’re doing, and draft harder.



The Atlanta Hawks, for proving that if you want to be the worst, you’ve got to beat the worst.

To be fair, the Atlanta Hawks had the easiest draw on paper. They have nothing. A blank lot is easy to build on. So, with the #3 pick, pick the best player and go from there. Somehow, that didn’t happen. The Hawks selected Luka Doncic, the most hyped European talent since Napoleon, and were quickly hoodwinked by Mark Cuban’s Dallas Mavericks who convinced Atlanta to swap picks, with the added bonus of a heavily protected (and near worthless) first rounder next year. Instead of a surefire stud in Doncic, they opted for Trae Young, tagged as both the next big thing and the next big nothing. Many pick Trae to either to be the next Steph Curry or the next Jimmer Fredette.

The Hawks gave up a lot of boom for a chance at some lesser boom.

The return was especially galling, as the original Hawks/Mavericks trade was going to be Doncic for the fifth pick, Wes Matthews and Kent Bazemore. Grimy, reliable veterans to educate the kids. I mean, praise can go to Mark Cuban for alpha-ing the Hawks, but maybe, just maybe Atlanta is developing a top-secret super-tank in secret, one that will roll over the dusty bones of the Sixers’ effort.


European Visitors to Texas, for the unlimited culture shock about to befall them.

So, with the lassoing of Luka Doncic, the Dallas Mavericks now sport a proud European legacy that is without peer. They’re already the final resting place of Dirk Nowitzki, the man who proved that every American basketball fan is racist, both in dominating the low post on one leg for two decades and claiming the greatest Championship win of all time.



The future moment matters. The old king handing over the keys to the franchise to his heir is a moment surely to be witnessed by many, as disciples of Eurobasket are set to make the pilgrimage to this Holy site for penance. It’ll just be a shame that these residents of Berlin, of Madrid and Paris, will land in the seething bug-raining heat of Dallas Fort Worth’s used auto district, and wonder how their absolute best ended up in a place like this.

Although, fair being fair, the last time a talented European craftsman made his mark in Texas, we got this:






The Knicks fan base, for playing to type.

As a fan of the Knicks, I know there are two constants in New York basketball: enduring the fact that no-one chooses to play for us, and booing those who have been forced to do so. Booing your own on draft day is a Knicks tradition. It’s our Championship, it’s our day at Zoo.

Everything changes so quickly in life, continuity is a beautiful thing to treasure. It keeps one linked to the past, and that’s why we act like complete infants on this most storied of days.

So, just as we booed Danilo Gallinari:



We did the same for our Unicorn God, Kristaps Porzingis:



We followed suit for Kevin Knox, the latest victim of our franchise.



Welcome to the family, dude. I’m sorry.



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