There’s a tragic irony in the Phoenix Suns’ belief that Jimmy Butler can solve all their problems.
As Butler does everything he can to break up with the Miami Heat, Phoenix reportedly sees itself as an ideal landing spot, eager to take advantage of another organization that waited too long to move on from its best player—prohibitive financial cost, physical decline, and injury risk be damned.
If the Butler-Heat fiasco should tell the Suns anything, though, it’s that when it comes to looming contract extensions for aging stars, it’s never been more important to act sooner rather than later. The old NBA adages that once justified overzealous monetary commitments may no longer apply in a league where some deals are, indeed, untradable. Last summer, Pat Riley had three options: (1) give Butler a two-year, $113 million extension, (2) trade him, or (3) do neither. Riley chose door no. 4—do neither and antagonize Butler in a public forum—and has since watched the Heat backslide toward mediocrity, with no obvious path back to the Finals.
Hindsight is 20/20, but it’s fair to say that Miami probably should’ve been more aggressive about fielding offers for Butler long before the two reached an inevitable breaking point. The Suns—a team that’s gone 11-18 since an 8-1 start and is 3-8 against teams with a top-10 net rating—apparently don’t realize how close they are to being stuck in a less volatile but similarly pernicious situation. Instead of looking to add another expensive veteran before the deadline, they should go the other way. They should trade Kevin Durant.
I’m not a “blow it up!” person, but this end game has been simmering for a while. I know that Durant, still playing at an All-NBA level in his 17th season, is metronomically brilliant. (He’s averaging 27 points per game and is the league’s most accurate midrange shooter.) I understand how rash it sounds to suggest that the Suns should part ways with a first-ballot Hall of Famer, and I’m happy to hear out anyone who believes that preserving this 10-seed is the right or only thing to do. Devin Booker, Bradley Beal, and KD have played in only 18 games together this season. Booker, for his part, will presumably, eventually, hopefully soon look like his razor-sharp All-Star self. And this roster has too much talent, shooting, intelligence, and experience not to be competitive.
But I also know that the Suns are trapped by their owner’s commitment to misunderstanding an NBA ecosystem that doesn’t function how he thinks it does. The days of giving a maximum contract to three players are over. Depth is king. Financial flexibility, internal development, and the draft are what matter. (No franchise currently employs fewer players who were drafted internally—or had their draft rights acquired via trade—than the Suns: Booker, Ryan Dunn, and Oso Ighodaro.)
Durant’s public support for Mat Ishbia notwithstanding, there’s a ton of evidence that suggests this team is drifting further and further away from title contention. Phoenix has the highest payroll in NBA history and is currently 19th in net rating. Coming off last year’s first-round meltdown against the Minnesota Timberwolves, it’s currently projected to have just a 31.9 percent chance to even reach the postseason.
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The Suns are 16-6 when Durant and Booker share the floor, but in 594 minutes together—a pretty good sample size—lineups featuring both of them are outscoring opponents by only 1.6 points per 100 possessions. This is far from a harbinger of hope. In fact, it pales in comparison to the rates of other top duos. Throw in Beal—who was recently (and logically) removed from the starting lineup—and the Suns’ Big Three is minus-31 in 293 minutes.
Hypothetically, even if Butler were swapped in for Beal—whose own late-stage dalliance with the Washington Wizards speaks to how much harm a franchise can inflict on itself when it waits too long to break up with its franchise player (that no-trade clause, which currently haunts the Suns, is beyond debilitating)—there’s little reason to believe that he’d solve the Suns’ porous transition defense, infuse the roster with more frontcourt versatility, or alter a shot chart that’s plainly medieval.
Only the Charlotte Hornets (an ayahuasca enthusiast’s fever dream of what NBA basketball should look like) average fewer points in the paint, and the Suns’ net 3-point differential on the season is minus-18.
The stylistic evolution Mike Budenholzer was hired to usher in has not taken shape. When they do execute sets that leverage all their spacing, using their big men who know how to pass, you wonder why stuff like this doesn’t happen all the time:
Their offense obviously isn’t terrible, but it goes through clunky spells, hampered by unforced gaffes and vague off-ball movement. They also have a tendency to overshare, with the second-highest turnover rate in the league on possessions when they pass the ball at least four times, per Sportradar.
Their defense (which ranks seventh worst in the half court) is apathetic. Stack pick-and-rolls are treated like the Rubik’s Cube. Basic execution at the point of attack is bungled, then compounded when no help comes from the back side (the miscommunication below starts to explain why Dunn replaced Beal in the starting lineup):
There have been key injuries, and Bud’s decision to overhaul his rotation (removing the expendable Jusuf Nurkic altogether) was smart. Phoenix can win games off elite shotmaking alone. But the greatest indictment of this team can’t be quantified by statistics. It’s aesthetic, possibly even molecular. Phoenix has no fundamental identity or spine, nothing to lean on in the face of adversity.
The Suns have limited resources to improve around the margins—only one first-round pick, three second-round picks, and three swaps to trade—and how they’ll meaningfully turn things around is a dilemma that should be treated as an existential crisis in-house.
This leads us to a question that simplifies the crux of this piece: What is the upside of keeping Durant? In what universe would Phoenix be closer to a title next year, or the one after that? The man is 36 years old. It’s theoretically possible, but not likely, for him to remain a top-10 player over the life of his next contract. So, what’s the point of keeping him? If they re-sign him and paddle their way through the Western Conference as an also-ran for the next few seasons, maybe winning a playoff series or two, what will the comedown look like?
Phoenix is not the only high-leveraged, ambitious franchise that will have to ask itself tough questions under the CBA, which restricts movement and punishes big spenders trying to win it all. It’s hard to call this dilemma a trend because every individual scenario has its own specific on- and off-court concerns. There are emotionally complicated variables tinged by fear and regret. (Nobody wants to trade Steph Curry, LeBron James, Butler, Durant, or any other fan favorite who may still have excellence left in the tank.) But there’s also common sense. With all due respect, almost regardless of how their season ends, if the Suns give Durant a two-year, $120 million extension this summer, they are delusional.
“We have a great relationship with Kevin,” Ishbia said back in November. “He’s a great guy, he loves being in Phoenix, we love having him. … We expect Kevin to sign an extension, be with us for the long term. We hope he finishes his career here in Phoenix. … Kevin wants to be here, we want Kevin here. There’s never been one grumbling of anything different.”
That sounded great a few months ago, but it doesn’t change the fact that these Suns were still concocted, with extreme risk, in a microwave. Undercooked, overprocessed. They’re a monument to the jittery petulance of one extremely wealthy 45-year-old man. Today’s NBA doesn’t reward impatience, though. Just look around. From Boston to Oklahoma City to Cleveland to Memphis to Houston to Orlando to Denver. Good things come to those who wait, care about continuity, and own a calendar.
Regardless of what Ishbia says, keeping KD is a risk in multiple ways. What happens if he decides that he doesn’t want to finish his career on a team that can’t compete at the highest level? He left the Golden State Warriors as a free agent and demanded a trade from the Brooklyn Nets. It would not shock the world if KD wanted another change of scenery. He’ll make $54.7 million next season and can become an unrestricted free agent the following year. Put him on the market now, and see what you can get back.
Rockets general manager Rafael Stone has said he isn’t interested in taking any big swings before the season ends, but when push comes to shove, it would make sense to add Durant for a package that wouldn’t shorten their encouraging runway to championship contention. No, he isn’t on the same timeline as Houston’s ascending core—and it’s too soon for the Suns to part with Booker, who is 28, is extremely good, and still has three years left on his contract—but KD is the rare offensive talent who’d make the Rockets (currently second in the West) a legitimate threat to win it all without mangling the long-term development of anyone else on that roster.
Durant still has immense trade value for any team that’s interested in winning, but thanks to the second apron, Phoenix can’t take back more money than it gives out or aggregate multiple contracts, which quashes so much possibility.
For the long-term health of Phoenix’s organization, though, it should be willing to prioritize the retrieval of its own draft picks. It’s a little complicated, but essentially, the Rockets have swap rights this season (which they will likely exercise), plus Phoenix’s unprotected first in 2027 and a protected first in 2029. If the Suns can get all that back, plus another unprotected first-rounder from the Rockets, Fred VanVleet, and Jeff Green (to fulfill salary requirements), they absolutely should. If Houston doesn’t bite and chooses to wait and see how its young core does in the playoffs before making a run at someone like De’Aaron Fox (or Booker) this summer, Phoenix should pick up the phone and see how the 28 other teams feel about adding KD.
Generally speaking, these Suns have easily the worst ROI in basketball history. Replenishment should be their word of the day, every day, until they have a future that isn’t shrouded in dread. Would the Thunder have any interest in virtually guaranteeing themselves at least one NBA title with a full-circle kumbaya? Could the Warriors be tempted to cap their dynastic run with one last hurrah? Could the Spurs have their cake and eat it, too? Do the Magic see themselves as a team that’s ready to win it all right now—in all seriousness, assuming Franz Wagner returns this season—and are they willing to part with several picks and someone like Anthony Black to do it?
The Suns should be proactive here. The alternative is where they currently are, encased in a pressure-packed work environment that sees every win as a relief and every loss as a step toward more disruption. That’s the world these players and coaches live in, beneath the thumb of an owner whose stubborn obsession with the present day has fostered a claustrophobic, avoidable sense of desperation.
“We’re trying to win,” Ishbia said in November, with the subtlety of a tractor. But the words that followed may be a glimmer of hope for long-suffering fans who understand why doubling down on a strategy this hopeless could, by Ishbia’s 50th birthday, leave the Suns more irrelevant than ever: “We’re definitely not where we are in the second apron and the luxury tax, trying to finish in ninth place in the West. That’s not what we’re trying to do.”
If Ishbia believes what he says, then maybe, just maybe, the Suns should try something else.
