Rockets’ system lacks feeling, results

If Daryl Morey had his way, it’s highly unlikely that rookie first-round draft picks (from left to right) Royce White, Terrence Jones and Jeremy Lamb would ALL be wearing Houston Rockets colors. Alas, so far they are, an indictment of how much of a failure this offseason has been for the organization.

There’s an infamous saying that goes something like this: “Sports are a business. It’s nothing personal.” Eventually all fans have to learn to adopt this adage, even if they don’t wish to. We’d like to personalize our teams. We’d like to find ways to relate to the players. We’d like to see them grow and mature, not only on the court or field, but off it as well. In essence, we’d like to feel that we were with them along the way, and that should they ever reach that sacred stage known as their sport’s championship, that we were right there with them, through thick or thin, heaven or hell.

Unfortunately, the Houston Rockets could not care less about the human nature of sports. They are business, above all. Their employees on the court are not people; they are assets. They don’t necessarily care for their players as they do the bottom line, even when, apparently, that bottom line is far from a success. As fans, we understand there is no loyalty in sports, but it wouldn’t hurt the teams we root for if they weren’t so blatant about it. Yet, that’s where the Rockets – playoff-less the last three seasons and owners of middling middle of the first round draft picks over that same time – stand. In an effort to do whatever it is they’ve been trying to do, whether initially trying to rebuild without bottoming out (fail) or now trying to sacrifice all for the precious signature star that has eluded them since the days of a healthy Yao Ming and Tracy McGrady, they’ve also successfully managed to disconnect themselves from their fans, as if operating as some sort of secret service whose intentions are only known to those inside the precious walls of the Toyota Center.

Consider this: This summer, the Rockets have said farewell to four players (Kyle Lowry, Courtney Lee, Samuel Dalembert and Chase Budinger), two of which (Lowry and Lee) were held in relative high regard by fans for their professionalism (Lee much so than Lowry over the previous six months) and two valued two-way talents, a commodity owned by few Rockets. Lowry was traded to Toronto last week for a first-round draft pick that is all but guaranteed to be a lottery selection. Lee was simply given his walking papers; even worse, his qualifying offer was withdrawn even after General Manager Daryl Morey confidently assured fans Lee would be back even as an restricted free agent. Dalembert, a valuable rebounder and shot-blocker on a team lacking interior presence, and a first round pick were traded to Milwaukee for three unknowns in Jon Brockman, Jon Leuer and Shaun Livingston, and a first round pick. Budinger, a sharpshooter, was given to Minnesota for a late first round pick. So let’s summarize: Four Rocket players – three who started a significant number of games last year – and a middle first round pick were essentially exchanged for three benchwarmers and three middle first round picks. In the process, in an offseason with an adored amount of cap room and assets, the Rockets have been rejected by the likes of Dwight Howard, Eric Gordon and even their own unrestricted free agent, Goran Dragic. This summer’s biggest prize so far? Omer Asik, a career backup, one-dimensional center whom Houston desperately is committed to spending $8 million per year upon.

This summer was supposed to be one of redemption for Morey, who has been hyped beyond belief ever since he arrived in Houston’s front office as some sort of boy genius; the Billy Beane of the NBA, if you will. This was the summer where it appeared everything was in line: plenty of money available. Plenty of young assets. Plenty of draft picks to offer in sexy trades. This was going to be Morey’s time to shine. This was going to be his moment; his LeBron epiphany, per se. But it never came to fruition. And now Morey and his staff are left as the laughingstock of the offseason. It has gotten so bad, the Rockets have abruptly switched directions. A team that was only a premier superstar away from really making a quantum leap in the West is now under midst a rebuilding session, a fire sale in a misguided effort to indeed land that signature star; yes, the same signature stars like Howard and Gordon who do not even consider Houston as a fruitful destination. But what else is Morey supposed to do, really? He waited too long. It took him three years before realizing that drafting 14th in the lottery is not where a team desires. The Rockets have been living in no-man’s land for the most of Morey’s tenure. Even the Charlotte Bobcats feel bad. And while owner Les Alexander is also to blame for his insistence that his team rebuild without tanking, his time as owner has not been this discombobulated. The bottom line is it’s Morey’s job to put the pieces in place to field a respectable, competitive unit, and he failed to done so.

It’s also Morey that has a great deal to do with what follows, which arguably could be the most troubling.

Morey prizes assets, not people. And people around the league – opposing GMs and, of course, players – are starting to see that. Players are immediately expendable the moment they find themselves on the roster of the silver and red. There is no such thing as job security if you’re a Rocket. Mind you, that’s true for all teams in all sports, but especially for the Rockets. They don’t even pretend to believe they care for their players. So I give them props for being upfront, even if it’s hurting them just the same. Professional athletes wish to be cajoled, embraced, beloved. Not only financially, but personally. They want to feel wanted, as if they’re valued. They don’t want to be treated as if they’re a minor league prospect, shipped at a moment’s notice if that’s what the higher-ups deem necessary. Morey and the Rockets deal with assets, not people. And don’t think that that doesn’t matter. It does. Just look at the fact they didn’t give Dragic that player option in his fourth year of a discussed deal, simply because they couldn’t harbor the thought that a player was not in their control. Phoenix did offer that option. Guess where Dragic went?

It is a severe disconnect. Players feel like assets to the Rockets, and fans don’t know who to root for or get to know because he could be here today, gone in a few hours. Morey and the Rockets wish to be looked at as a forward-thinking franchise. In some ways, they are. They get the most bang for their buck and have done a relatively admirable job of scouting talent for the draft. But mostly, they operate like a minor league club, jettisoning players to and from the D-League at will (with no real data showing that it pays off in considerable improvement by the particular player) and pretty much employing a system void of feeling, void of personality.

And as a result, a system void of results.