Jayson Tatum is a young man learning an old lesson right now.
Be careful what you wish for.
We can trace that piece of advice back to the Greek fabulist Aesop, who wrote The Old Man and Death somewhere around 600 BCE. Throughout the course of history, countless people have hoped and prayed for a great many things only to immediately be filled with some level of regret, or at least astonishment at the difficulty attached to its receipt.
It’s probably happened to all of us at some point. For Tatum, becoming the 23-year-old face of the Boston Celtics, a franchise whose former franchises include Bill Russell, Larry Bird, and Paul Pierce, has come with a heavy dose of reality.
“This is really my first year dealing with this,” he said on the most recent Woj Pod with Adrian Wojnarowski. “It's been a very unique year, up and down. This is kind of what you signed up for. Being in this position. It's tough. But I think it's just part of it, part of my growth. I think all the special ones, you know, kind of go through this at some point in their career, just trying to figure it out.”
Professional sports are an unfair business. They are a perpetual grinder, indiscriminately swallowing careers unfortunate enough to be dragged into their blades. There is no morality at play here.
And so while it is no fault of Tatum’s that he has ascended to this role on the Celtics in the middle of two pandemic-impacted seasons, he is finding out the professional sports machine also doesn’t care. He is the leader now.
For the time being, Tatum has been somewhat insulated from harsh criticism. He’s had other big names around him throughout his short career to stand in front of the media and take the slings and arrows. This season, Brad Stevens and Danny Ainge have borne the brunt of the blame for the teams’ erratic performances.
In some ways, watching Stevens and Ainge navigate this minefield is all part of the preparation for him to do the same. He’s like an eaglet flapping its wings, testing its abilities, and watching its parents hunt for food and defend the nest. At some point, the food will stop being placed at its feet, and it must soar on its own, facing the perils of nature as they come.
“I think this is just a part of my growth from year to year, facing new challenges and learning from them,” Tatum said after the loss to Cleveland. “Obviously, not going to be perfect, but I'm trying to figure it out as best I can and help us in any way possible. ... I'm pretty sure there's a lot of things I can do better.”
Of course there are. There are a lot of things every 23 year old can do better. We often make the mistake of seeing these NBA stars as mature, finished products but there isn’t a single one of us who want to be judged by who we were at that age.
And for the “but he makes all this money” crowd, let me ask you this: Think back to how mature you were at 23 and ask yourself honestly if having millions of dollars and fame would have made things better, or worse?
But this is at the heart of where Tatum finds himself. He is a young player with All-NBA talent. He’s on a team with perpetually high expectations in a media landscape that can be Hoth-level harsh. His ability to learn, process, and apply the lessons of this season could be the difference between Stevens and Ainge keeping their jobs, and a few of his teammates sticking around versus being moved in search of something more successful.
That’s a lot to put on a young man. And though Tatum seems equipped to handle it, it doesn’t make this any easier. Labels are easy to earn and almost impossible to shed in this unforgiving world of sports. For now, Tatum has been able to avoid being pinned with one, but those days are running out quickly.
It’s possible that this season could be a necessary step back for Tatum and the Celtics; an ego-deflating, face-smacking declaration of how cold and indifferent the sports world that callouses them for their next run.
Few people care about how old Tatum is, that he caught COVID-19 and still doesn’t breathe normally, or that the NBA’s decisions about this season have hit the Celtics harder than most, if not all, other teams.
“Excuses,” they’ll say, waving the words away as if someone had blown cigar smoke in their faces.
Each day things continue to swirl down the toilet is a day the conveyor belt brings careers closer to that grinder. It’s very easy to get consumed by it. It’s very easy to wish for something else because this isn’t what anyone involved asked for.
But this is what they have. This is Tatum’s lot in NBA life. He may have come into the NBA as a certain person, but professional sports demand rapid growth. Our retirement age is around 70, Tatum’s is probably about half that. That condenses every lesson in life, adding more and more pressure at each step.
Whether the lessons of this season are applied tomorrow in Minnesota, Tuesday in their first play-in game, or next season, they need to be applied.
The sooner, the better.