Pre-Mourning The End Of The Joel Embiid Era

Spike's coming to terms early with moving on from The Process.

The Joel Embiid era as we know it, is over. Whether you’re in a place emotionally where you can say it out loud (I am), or you’re not (I respect it), it doesn’t change the fact that the days of expecting the Sixers to be able to compete for an NBA title with Embiid as their centerpiece, is over.

Truthfully, it’s probably been over for some time – as many will probably say when they read this very piece of writing. I do however think that giving it one last try to see if it was really over was the prudent thing to do given how dominant he was when he was himself.

At the risk of comparing two things that should never be compared — the loss of a loved one and the decline of your favorite basketball player — let me tell you a bit about something called “anticipatory grief.”

I had never heard of this phrase until I read Rebecca DiTore’s book I’d Still Choose You, and had her on the podcast. The book focuses on her journey through her husband Mike’s battle with brain cancer, which he eventually succumbed to in 2022. If you’re unaware of why this was something we discussed on the podcast, Mike was a big Ricky guy, and I became aware of his situation when he was diagnosed, as a 30 year old father of two in May of 2021. I’m only putting this in here because I know if Mike is reading this in heaven, he’d be pretty stoked I’m evoking his name in this context.

In any case, anticipatory grief in that case was the process of Rebecca dealing with the fact that she was going to lose Mike while Mike was still around. It’s something you do mentally, which better prepares you for the end, emotionally. It puts you in a place where you can be more helpful to the person suffering during their final days, and to the people around you when the end finally comes.

I’m in the anticipatory grief phase with Embiid. I am aware that there is no chance he is returning to anything close to his pre-Kuminga-fall form for anything other than a game here or there. We see flashes of the old Joel occasionally, which almost makes it hurt more. He’ll have a five-minute stretch where he’s rocking his dribble back and forth into a 15-foot jumper that’s impossible to defend. He’ll be the centerpiece of a few dribble handoffs that are unguardable, or block a couple of shots. But all these moments really do is remind you that he’s not doing them most of the time. You could certainly talk yourself into the idea of him just needing time to be back on the court to find his rhythm again. Then you look at that sentence and realize that “time on the court” is just never going to exist in a consistent and meaningful way.

Even if he were to consistently find that form, which he won’t, there is no chance we’ll luck out and he’ll just be healthy for a playoff run. A real playoff run is two and a half months or so, and if you’re being honest with yourself, the idea of Embiid staying on the court regularly and playing productively for almost a full trimester is insane.

Finally, the concept of “sixth man Joel” or “role player Joel” is just not realistic. Daryl Morey pretty much said so himself during his last appearance on the pod.

A Night With Chuck Klosterman and Spike

What’s truly forcing us to reckon with this of course is the rise of Tyrese Maxey, which Mike O’Connor so eloquently wrote about last week. He’s become a full-fledged star/superstar-level player, beyond a level I ever could have comprehended. I did not see this coming. I am not sure if this means you’re able to win a title with him as your best player, but you could certainly make that argument. I would have said that you couldn’t win one with Tyrese Haliburton as your best player, and that looks possible.

This ascension suddenly makes the idea of Joel and his max-contract just hanging around taking up cap and court space for the next five years unrealistic. You just can’t waste Maxey’s prime like that. And as Mike (Levin) said on last night’s podcast, it’s a good problem to have.

So for the next several weeks, I’m going to come to grips with my grief. That our guy, The Process, the best Sixers player I’ve ever watched (I will stand by this) is not going to give us a second Retweet Armageddon where he leads us to a championship. That the guy who was not only there at the same time as us, but many times just seemed to be right there in it with us, might be the same guy on the inside, but on the outside just is not that.

Some days I might lash out at him, at us, at Daryl Morey, at whoever. Some days I might be sad about it. Some days I might pretend it’s not happening at all, but it’s all me going through the process. It’s only taken 12+ years, but we’ve now seen “big man’s knee fails us and we start The Process” with Andrew Bynum to well, starting over again as The Process himself’s knee fails us. I feel dirty even comparing the two things.

How Tyrese Maxey's Ascendance Should Change the Sixers' Long Term Plans

They’re going to have to do the unthinkable, eventually. They’re going to do one of the things we swore you “just can’t do.” They’re going to have to attach picks with him to either salary-dump him or get a healthier player we know is far inferior, much to the chagrin of many of us. Maybe they’ll have to go through some uncomfortable medical retirement debate. Whatever it is, it’s going to be sort of ugly.

The point of going through this now is putting myself in a place when this finally happens that I can be reasonable and honest with you, and myself, about what is happening and why. I will give myself the grace to go through all of these emotions, so I can be proactive and helpful when it all really does come to a head. For me, for him, for us.

Spike note: Rebecca DiTore started a great foundation in Mike’s name and honor called The Small Moments Foundation. It brings some joy and relief to children and families who have lost a parent or a sibling to cancer. Please support them with a donation here.