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As I sit here watching highlights from the Shakey's Super League, an amateur basketball tournament in the Philippines, I can't help but draw parallels to the curious case of Ben Simmons. The contrast between these passionate, hungry players giving their all in relative obscurity and Simmons' current NBA predicament is striking. Having followed the NBA professionally for over a decade, I've seen numerous talented players come and go, but Simmons represents one of the most fascinating and frustrating cases in recent memory.
Right now, Ben Simmons finds himself in basketball limbo. The Brooklyn Nets have essentially sidelined him, and frankly, I don't blame them. After being traded from Philadelphia in the James Harden deal back in 2022, Simmons has appeared in just 48 games for Brooklyn across two seasons. That's an abysmal number for someone earning $37.9 million this season alone. His current status is what we in the basketball industry call "roster purgatory" - technically employed but not really contributing. The Nets listed him out for the season back in March due to nerve impingement in his lower back, marking yet another chapter in his ongoing health saga. What's particularly concerning from my perspective is that we've seen this pattern before - promising talent derailed by both physical and what appears to be mental barriers.
Watching the Shakey's Super League players hustle for every possession, diving for loose balls and playing with visible passion, I'm reminded of what made Simmons so special initially. Back in his rookie 2017-18 season, he averaged 15.8 points, 8.1 rebounds, and 8.2 assists - numbers that had people comparing him to a young Magic Johnson. But here's the hard truth that needs stating: Simmons hasn't meaningfully improved since then. In fact, he's regressed dramatically. His reluctance to develop a reliable jump shot has become the stuff of NBA legend, and not in a good way. I've spoken with several NBA scouts who've told me privately that Simmons' shooting mechanics actually worsened between his second and fourth seasons, which is almost unheard of for a professional athlete.
The financial aspect of Simmons' situation deserves special attention. He's owed $40.3 million for the 2024-25 season, which represents one of the worst contracts in modern NBA history relative to production. To put this in perspective, that's approximately what Nikola Jokic makes, and the production gap couldn't be wider. From a team-building standpoint, Simmons represents the nightmare scenario - an albatross contract that's virtually untradeable. I've had conversations with front office executives who've admitted they wouldn't trade a second-round pick for Simmons straight up, which tells you everything about his current market value.
Looking ahead, Simmons' future appears bleak, and I don't say that lightly. He'll be 28 when next season begins, which should represent his athletic prime. Instead, he's become a cautionary tale about wasted potential. The most likely scenario, in my view, is that he plays out his contract with Brooklyn while contributing minimally, then signs veteran minimum deals for the remainder of his career. Some analysts are more optimistic, suggesting a change of scenery could revive his career, but I've seen enough to be skeptical. The psychological component of his game - the apparent lack of confidence, the hesitation - seems too deeply ingrained at this point.
What fascinates me about Simmons' situation is how it contrasts with players in developmental leagues worldwide. The athletes in tournaments like Shakey's Super League would literally kill for the opportunities Simmons has squandered. They play for passion, for love of the game, often with inadequate facilities and minimal compensation. Meanwhile, Simmons has access to world-class training facilities, specialized coaches, and financial security that most players can only dream of, yet he can't seem to get out of his own way. This isn't to diminish the very real physical challenges he's faced, but the disparity in mentality is impossible to ignore.
If I were advising Simmons, I'd tell him to spend this offseason completely reinventing himself. Not just working on his jump shot - that ship has probably sailed - but transforming his approach to the game entirely. He needs to embrace being a defensive specialist, a playmaker, and an energy guy off the bench. The superstar aspirations are gone, but he could still carve out a meaningful role if he's willing to accept a different reality. The problem is, I'm not sure his ego will allow that transition. I've seen it before with former stars - the inability to adapt to diminished circumstances ultimately shortens careers.
The broader lesson for NBA teams is about contract management and risk assessment. Simmons' massive extension, signed after just two seasons, now looks incredibly reckless. Teams are becoming more cautious about committing superstar money to players with obvious, potentially unfixable flaws in their games. In today's NBA, where spacing and shooting are paramount, a non-shooting guard who's afraid to attack the basket is essentially unplayable in meaningful minutes, regardless of his other talents.
As Simmons' career continues its strange trajectory, I find myself thinking about what could have been. The physical tools are still there - the 6'10" frame, the court vision, the defensive versatility. But basketball at the highest level requires more than physical gifts. It demands mental toughness, adaptability, and an insatiable work ethic. Watching those Shakey's Super League games, where players with far less natural ability compete with everything they have, I'm reminded that talent alone is never enough. Simmons' story serves as a sobering reminder that in professional sports, potential means very little without the drive to actualize it. His legacy, unfortunately, may be that of the ultimate "what if" - a player who had everything except the will to become great.