The grade for the Nuggets’ knuckleheaded attempts to regain championship form has improved from an F to a double D.
His name is DeMar DeRozan.
He is a heckuva player.
Check that.
Once upon a time, DeRozan possessed guard skills that made him a nearly perennial All-Star.
But his star is fading. Double D is 37 years old. He was stuck in the land of basketball misfit toys, the dead-end NBA burg appropriately known as Sactown.
Acquiring DeRozan with what has been reported to be a bargain-bin, one-year, $3.9 million contract?
Well, let’s add another big D to the luxury-tax hell the Nuggets now call home.
Desperation.
Sacramento Kings guard/forward DeMar DeRozan (10) and Denver Nuggets guard Jamal Murray (27) in the second half of an NBA basketball game Saturday, Nov. 22, 2025, in Denver. (AP Photo/David Zalubowski)
It’s not as dumb of an idea as when Denver collected Russell Westbrook from the NBA dustbin back in 2024.
But DeRozan is unlikely to give the Nuggets any better chance of being a serious championship contender than Brodie did.
DeRozan has never possessed the first-ballot Hall of Fame talent that Westbrook long did.
But DeRozan has also never been the Hall of Fame pain in the butt that Westbrook often could be.
As a complementary piece rather than a hog-the-spotlight star, DeRozan is a much better bet than Westbrook.
Let’s set the record straight.Â
Sacramento Kings guard Russell Westbrook, right, congratulates guard Demar DeRozan after he drew a foul on Denver Nuggets forward Spencer Jones in the second half of an NBA basketball game Saturday, Nov. 22, 2025, in Denver. (AP Photo/David Zalubowski)
The Nuggets did not acquire DeRozan as a replacement for Peyton Watson, who was jettisoned to Cleveland either as punishment for P-Wat’s refusal to play through a “tight” hamstring in the playoffs or as a salary dump.
In the twilight of his career, DeRozan isn’t going to become the third amigo in a new big three in Denver, alongside Nikola Jokic and Jamal Murray.
In fact, I would be shocked if DeRozan is in the starting five on opening night, as basketball analysts who don’t know spit from shinola have speculated.
The Nuggets find themselves in their current mess, looking like no better than a distant third in the Western Conference pecking order behind San Antonio and Oklahoma City, because management’s decision to reward Christian Braun with a five-year contract worth an average of $25 million per annum was a reach, at best.
Always follow the money in pro sports. And the money strongly suggests team management will give Braun every chance to remain a starter and recover from his disappearing act in the playoffs in order for Nuggets wannabe general managers Ben Tenzer and Jonathan Wallace to save face.
After averaging 18 points in 77 games for the Kings last season, the real value DeRozan can bring is to reshape the personality and reestablish the reliability of the Denver bench.
He seems best cast as the replacement for Tim Hardaway Jr., who has departed the Nuggets for Miami.
Could DeRozan become a legit candidate for the NBA’s top sixth man?
That sounds like a dream. But not an entirely unreasonable dream.
In recent years, with Josh Kroenke at the day-to-day controls, the Nuggets have won the lone championship in franchise history. It’s an achievement that will forever shine as brightly as the Larry O’Brien Trophy.
And think what you will, but as a guy who frankly wasn’t sure I’d see the Nuggets win a championship in what remains of my lifetime, I am grateful to Kroenke for letting me witness former players and coaches, longtime staffers and diehard fans as they all shared the joy of that June night when Jokic held both his daughter and the trophy in his loving arms.
But this is also true: On his watch, Kroenke has also allowed the best basketball architect in team history to walk. In turn, it often seems as if Tim Connelly has dedicated his professional life to making the Nuggets miserable in the postseason.
And need I remind you Kroenke also pushed the best coach in Nuggets history out the door. With all due respect to the late, great Doug Moe and the persnickety George Karl, neither of them saw the basketball genius hidden beneath the baby fat of Jokic and rode that unwavering faith all the way to a victory parade through the streets of Denver in the bold way Michael Malone did.
Now Kroenke has sat on his hands and watched as Jokic enters an upcoming NBA season, which is certain to be ripe with bosom-buddy speculation about the greatest player in Nuggets history leaving Colorado to join his brother from another mother, Luka Doncic, in a Lakers uniform next summer as a free agent.
Welcome to Denver, Double D.
These are interesting times in Nuggets Nation.
Buckle up.