In 2008, Chris Paul was the most annoying person living rent-free in my head. During the Western Conference Semifinals, Paul averaged a very annoying 23.7 points and 10.7 assists per game in that series against my beloved San Antonio Spurs. He and David West (also a future former Spur) were the thorn in the Spurs’ side that took them to a grueling, hard-fought, and tiring seven games. The Spurs were inconceivably down 0-2 to these upstart New Orleans Pelicans (Hornets at the time, but they should be the New Orleans Jazz!). If not for Manu Ginóbili’s heroics, scoring a combined 51 points in the final two games to seal the series and some lucky bounces, the Spurs could easily have been eliminated.
Paul also annoyed me to no end again in Game 7 of the first round of the 2015 playoffs. Playing on one leg (dude has had some bad injury luck in the postseason), CP3 still drained a heart-wrenching game winner to eliminate the Spurs, who were seeking a back-to-back title after 2014’s magical run. Those dreams were dashed quickly in round one thanks to Mr. State Farm. Looking back, he single-handedly snuffed out the Big Three’s last gasp shot at another title—and the ever elusive repeat title.
Speaking of dashed dreams, let’s take the Wayback Machine to 2005, specifically the 2005 NCAA Tournament. Chris Paul and the Wake Forest Demon Deacons were the #2 seed, and I picked them to win the whole tournament because I love Tim Duncan, and Wake Forest is his alma mater. Not good process for winning if you joined your friend’s March Madness Pool and obsessed over your bracket during Spring Break rather than study for your Organic Chemistry II midterms. Annoyed that the Demon Deacons were bounced out of the second round by West Virginia and ruining my bracket, my supreme annoyance with one Chris Paul was born.
Objectively, Chris Paul is one of the best NBA players in history. In his prime, he was a walking assist machine. He was a pure point guard: bringing the ball up, initiating the offense, directing teammates into position, and providing instant offense when needed from drives to the basket, mid-range, or via timely three-pointers. Despite being one of the shorter players in the league, Paul was also an elite defender.
When the Los Angeles Clippers abruptly released Chris Paul on Wednesday, this move might have signaled not only the end of Paul’s storied NBA career, but also the archetype of player from an older version of basketball that we won’t see again anytime soon. In a league of bigs who can shoot and offenses that run through power forwards and centers, Paul represents a singular box that only he can check. He was a point guard pure and simple. James Harden, Steph Curry, Cade Cunningham, De’Aaron Fox, Jamal Murray, and Jalen Brunson, to name a few, are all point guards too. Arguably, some of them can serve as shooting guards, playing off ball, or creating offense by calling their own number and chucking it up. Although Paul in his prime can score, he was a pass-first point guard in the mold of John Stockton, Jason Kidd, and Steve Nash. He’s number two behind Stockton on the all-time assists leaderboard for a reason. He’s unselfish with the basketball.
If you were a big man who could dunk, you’d want to play with Chris Paul. Point God loved to lob (say that five times fast), and there was no more entertaining show in the NBA at that time than Lob City with the Clippers. When Blake Griffin wasn’t busy making funny KIA commercials or DeAndre Jordan wasn’t busy ducking Mark Cuban, those two bigs were busy corralling all of Chris Paul’s perfectly lobbed alley-oops for highlight dunks.
When he wasn’t facilitating show-stopping dunks, Paul was a certifiable lightning rod of frustration cut from the same cloth as our own Manu Ginóbili. That is to say, they are the type of player that we get annoyed by if they are playing against our favorite team, but we absolutely love them if they are playing for our favorite team. When the Spurs signed Paul last season, I absolutely loved it. I was ready for the Gregg Popovich, Chris Paul pairing. It was like finally seeing Nic Cage and Sean Connery team up to BREAK INTO Alcatraz. I think Popovich and Paul were ready to collaborate too, but alas it wasn’t meant to be for the entire season.
Nonetheless, from a biased Spurs fan perspective, Chris Paul was nothing short of the ultimate professional in his short time as a Spur. He played in all 82 games for the second time in his career. He showed up at every game and gave maximum effort—for a team at best hoping for a play-in spot after losing the services of their leader and iconic head coach due to health reasons. Paul’s impact on the future of the franchise, Victor Wembanyama and Stephon Castle, might be overlooked years from now, but it’s our job as fervid fans to not let that happen.
Every team Chris Paul joined where he played a significant role, that team improved: the New Orleans Jazz Hornets, the Los Angeles Clippers, the Oklahoma City Supersonics (in a different timeline, Shai Gilgeous-Alexander does not become MVP without Paul’s tutelage, and Seattle still has a basketball team), the Houston Rockets, and the Phoenix Suns. I’ve often argued that sometimes being known for never winning a title is somehow better than winning one title that might be overlooked years later because there are a lot of years and a lot of titles. Charles Barkley built a legacy out of this (involuntarily, but he seems to be doing OK). The ball may have bounced unluckily the other way, but competitors like Barkley and Paul can easily say they did all they could do and left it all out on the court.
While we don’t know what’s next for Chris Paul (maybe he joins the Lakers or rejoins the Thunder or Rockets for one final ride for a ring), I like to think he’s most proud of the young players he’s mentored or all the times he’s poked fun at Tony Parker for somehow getting involved in the beef between Drake and Chris Brown (the two are besties, Paul and Parker, that is).
If you told 2008 me that one day Chris Paul would be in a Spurs uniform, my head would metaphorically explode. I would have thought he lost a bet to Tim Duncan or David Stern sent him here as punishment for making me wonder if Cliff Paul could average at least 5 assists in the NBA while playing in a sweater vest. Someone once said you either retire a villain or live long enough to see yourself wearing Fiesta colors on a basketball court.
You know how every villain in the Fast and the Furious movies ends up being an ally? That’s Chris Paul. He’s the Deckard Shaw to our family of Spurs fans (holds bottle of beer in a weird way Vin Diesel-style). To family.