hey
tmac quit on rockets
all talkign shit look
sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watchin' the tide roll away, ooh
I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time.
Mark it down.
It was Jan. 2, 2009, 1:16 left in the third quarter, when there was a seismic shift in the Rockets' world, when the tectonic plates opened up and swallowed an era.
The official play-by-play sheet simply says: Jamario Moon slam dunk.
Anybody who was watching at the Air Canada Centre or on TV knows it was the precise moment that Tracy McGrady quit on the Rockets.
Yao Ming knows it. You could read it all over his scowling face as he sat on the bench through the final embarrassing minutes of horrid game.
Rick Adelman knows it. You could read it between the lines of his post-game comments when he said he would not talk about any individual performances.
Ron Artest knows it. You could tell that a week ago when Artest dragged his sore and ballooning right ankle onto the court to gut out an overtime win against the Jazz when McGrady made himself a late scratch during the post parade.
Leslie Alexander knows it and Daryl Morey knows it and every one of McGrady's teammates knows it.
One could hope that Dikembe Mutombo was back in Houston watching and will arrive in Atlanta with his leadership in the form of a big stick.
Truth be told, it wouldn't make a difference, wouldn't matter. It would only elicit a few more whimpering excuses from McGrady and more disappointment down the line.
Oh, it was so much more than just 2-for-9 shooting and 4 points in 27 minutes. It was aimless shuffling around the court on offense and defense. It was standing five feet behind the 3-point line, feet rooted to one spot, and simply playing pitch and catch with the ball.
It was Moon driving in from the right side of the basket and seeing McGrady stop running, practically hold the door open and offering to carry Moon's books home from school as he went by for a dunk that would have been more contested in the pre-game layup line.
"McGrady could have made some kind of effort," said veteran play-by-play man Bill Worrell.
"You don't just give somebody an open dunk," said color commentator Matt Bullard.
For crying out loud, these guys are paid employees of the team and they had the guts and integrity to say out loud what everybody sitting at home and falling off their sofas knows.
It was the body language from the opening minutes of the game to the bitter, pathetic end that screamed out loud that McGrady would rather have been any other place on the planet than on that court with that team.
It is a waste of time and effort to go back over all of his empty promises and contradictions from the start of training camp or over his four-plus seasons in Houston.
Just say this: He is an extraordinary talent - T-Mac - who is capable of taking your breath away. Yet as a competitor - Tiny Tim-mac - he can be blown away in a gentle breeze.
This is not the first time that McGrady has revealed himself, having bailed out on the Raptors as an up-and-coming phenom and quit - flat-out admitting publicly that he didn't try - on the Magic to get himself traded out of Orlando.
Thus, it was only a matter of when it would happen to the Rockets. They paid him a sultan's fortune. They coddled him. They praised him. They made every excuse and accommodation for him.
After the Utah fiasco, he promised Morey and Adelman that he would increase his energy level and play hard. The general manager and head coach put their own egos aside and agreed to an unprecedented - and preposterous - notion that he would only have to play one game in back-to-back sets.
Then McGrady went out on Friday night (he's already planning to sit Saturday in Atlanta) and half-stepped it against the Raptors, never getting himself into the game, never finding a rhythm and, ultimately, walking out the back door on them.
This was more than just the latest in a sickly string of games where he's scored 12, 4, 11, 15, 7 and 4 points (8.8 avg.) and shot 20-63 (.317). It was the night when the Rockets organization - everyone from front office to the last player on the end of the bench - had their darkest fears about T-Mac confirmed.
Oh, the Rockets likely won't trade him away. They have themselves boxed in with his huge contract and his deteriorating body.
What they need to do at this point is move on without him. Turn the page on the McGrady Era. The team belongs now to Yao and Ron-Ron - a couple of guys who never shortchange you on effort - and a supporting cast that is pretty damn good.
If McGrady wants to rehab his sore left knee or run off to a retreat and get his chakras back in balance, let him. If he wants to return to the club somewhere down the road in a few weeks or few months and contribute a few - or a few dozen - big buckets in a playoff game, well, they'll be appreciated. But they won't be expected.
Because with 1:16 left in the third quarter on a Friday night in Toronto, Jamario Moon's red-carpet-escort dunk slammed home a point that some of the Rockets had begun to suspect. They can never truly count on T-Mac again. Ever.
Quitting is the stain that won't wash out.
Feigen destroys McLady too.
McGrady mopes, then he and the Rockets surrender
Now, who says Tracy McGrady isn't a leader?
He quit on Friday. The Rockets followed.
There was a lot of surrender, albeit in different forms, wherever you looked. In their own ways, Ron Artest and Yao Ming gave in, too. But McGrady's quit came in the form of a lack of effort and that impacts everyone.
Everything looks worse when the shots don't go in and it did not help that Luther Head, Carl Landry, Aaron Brooks and Brent Barry went a combined 3-of-26.
They, however, are not the problem. They can make things better or worse, but with the Rockets, problems and solutions, success and failure begin with Yao, Artest and especially McGrady.
Artest quit on the Rockets' offense. He was completely out of control, running his own offense while everyone else had to stop and watch. His only way to succeed was to catch and shoot 3s. Other than that, he missed all four of his shots inside the 3-point arc and had six turnovers in 24 minutes.
This has become a frequent occurrence, but even if he did abandon the plan again, he did play hard. He played as if he cared, and was furious to be taken out of the game with the fourth quarter still to be played, even though the Rockets trailed by 19 and were a few hours away from playing the Hawks.
Yao could not make shots. He missed 7 of 12 attempts, and many of the misses were layups. He did not come close to stopping Andrea Bargnani, who made 8 of 12 shots for his 19 points. But mostly, Yao just missed. He still must learn to battle through bad nights rather than let them get worse. But he does that because he cares so deeply. And if he sometimes moves slowly, he does move. At least physically, he gives what he's got.
McGrady didn't.
I actually thought in the past two games since the Saturday night off against the Jazz, McGrady moved more and better than he had been. He was aggressive. He played with energy, even defensively. He missed shots, but that can be excused if they are good shots. It happens.
On Friday, however, he started with another poor shooting game and quit. That is inexcusable. He moped around the floor most of the night. In the third quarter, he stood at the top of the 3-point arc (when he got that far) and just moved the ball, abdicating any responsibility in the Rockets' offense.
He said later that he grew frustrated that he did not get enough shots to get in a rhythm. He said the spacing was bad. He said there was poor execution.
Perhaps that was his way of taking responsibility for his poor play - he let others' mistakes frustrate him. That is sort of like the celebrity apology, "If someone was offended, I apologize."
Even if we accept that explanation, as excuses go, it's pathetic.
If the spacing is bad, play hard. If you are not getting enough shots, play hard. If the execution is poor, play hard.
That was the deal. McGrady would play only one game in back-to-backs to keep his sore knee from getting worse, but when he played, he would play hard. On Friday, he didn't. Others followed his lead.
It is a long season, however. He can lead the other way, too. He can tell Rick Adelman that he wants to play Saturday in Atlanta. He can demand, request, plead for playing time against the Hawks, and then play hard. He might not play well. He might not even play long. But he can play hard.
His teammates would notice. There's no doubt they noticed on Friday, and they followed his lead.
They gave up on Friday's game. It remains to be seen if they will give up on the season.