There’s a sports ride arriving on shaky feet: no slamming doors or heated statements, but rather a shared recognition that a long-held promise must finally be released. Trae Young’s exit from the Hawks is one such example. After nearly seven seasons as their future-changing center, he leaves as the all-time leader in assists and makes three. He was the catalyst for a 2021 playoff run that briefly gave hope of success, and that never happened is no fault of any of those involved. Never mind that it’s equally a reflection of the constant retooling around him, and a complete acknowledgment that no more retooling or resetting will lead to lasting progress.
The problem with the Hawks has always been tied to formation. Young’s brilliance was undeniable, his breadth and courage redefining what was possible in a given context. But his dominance of the ball and relative lack of size requires the right ecosystem: quality defenders, secondary creators who are comfortable being outlet valves, and a level of continuity they can’t support for one reason or another. Injuries intervened, rosters tightened, and patience dwindled. Over time, they grew smaller and more balanced as their marquee name remained the same. And when the new pieces got better together without him, the choice, though difficult, became clear. There was no doubting his influence, but equally there was no discounting the importance of his independent influence.
The commercial advantage was self-sustaining. The Hawks didn’t so much look for a star to replace him as they got some breathing room. They chose to choose instead of watching the spectacle, betting that the unity and clarity would produce more than just another attempt to force the convergence of one extreme talent. For them, this was a narrowing of focus, an attempt to define themselves without always revolving around a single point of light.
Meanwhile, the Witches accepted that light. They have long been suspended between spewing reconstructionist rhetoric and acting on a desire to remain visible and relevant. In Young, they found a proven offensive engine and, most importantly, a personality capable of attracting excessive attention. His comments since the trade emphasize reconciliation: the belief that they can rehabilitate him as much as possible. Needless to say, there is both integrity and danger in framing. He comes with injury questions and a net-negative player profile that will test them endlessly. Certainly, they are not chasing a quick fight; they pursue identity, and in that life, courage has its duties.
What follows now is a testing time for all involved. The Hawks must show that balance can compensate for the loss of talent. The Wizards must prove that excitement can exist alongside development, and that a franchise player can elevate rather than overshadow a young core. And Young himself, freed from the expectations that had grown so hard on the red and yellow, must combine the freedom and responsibility of the blue and silver. In a league that is quick to pick winners and losers, trades resist easy judgment. Rather, it is a lesson in timing: knowing when to let go, when to believe again, and when to accept that progress may begin with a clean, if uncertain, break.
Anthony L. Cuaycong was writing The court since BusinessWorld launched the Sports category in 1994. He is a consultant in strategic planning, operations and human resources management, business communication, and business development.
