Jason Collins' historic announcement has been received with happy shrugs and praise, which is a very good thing. But it's not the end of anything, not nearly, and we shouldn't be too satisfied with this admittedly satisfying reception.
The Boston Celtics were once a very good team, if never quite one that deserved the heroic narrative they received in the early years of the Big Three. Now, with the end of the road seemingly rushing up for Pierce and Garnett, are we allowed to acknowledge that they've always been too small for their narrative?
The NBA was a strange place in the late 1970s, if probably not quite as strange as the version depicted in 1979's gloriously batshit Jonathan Winters/Julius Erving vehicle The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh. Few things, really, could be much stranger.
R.C. Buford is the NBA's best and most consistently successful front-office operative, and has been for a long time. He has also never won the NBA's Executive of the Year Award. There are a couple of ways to fix that.
The NBA's actual awards are nice enough, but also dull and subjective and mostly silly. Here are some subjective, mostly silly awards that don't actually exist. Pablo Prigioni, you've earned this one. Kevin Martin, come claim your sad ham.