What is success? (NBA edition)

I saw a tweet this week that spawned a thought. The thought is more a philosophical question that can be applied to literally any situation in life, but we'll mostly stick to sports. What is success?

The tweet came from a Mavericks fan to my former colleague Chuck Cooperstein, the Mavs play by play man. The pessimistic fan asked "what's the point of making the playoff? They're going to lose in the first round."

Allow me to answer: you make the playoffs. 

On the surface, this seems like quite the logical thing than anybody with even a minute understanding of sports should be able to figure out, but defining success in sports is far from simple. For some teams success means winning a lot. For some teams it's winning some. For some teams it's not winning at all. It's complicated. It's nuanced. And at this time of the year, it's particularly in focus for the NBA.

For the Mavericks, making the playoffs is a remarkable success. Dallas thought they had made a key addition in DeAndre Jordan last summer before the Clippers center changed his mind and decided to return to Los Angeles. That left the Mavericks with newly signed Wes Matthews coming off an achilles injury, Chandler Parsons coming off knee surgery and Dirk Nowitzki somehow still being a very good player despite being 482 years old in NBA years. Instead of being a legitimate threat to get to the 2nd round of the playoffs, the Mavs were stuck being good enough to have no shot at keeping their draft pick, which had to fall in the top 7 to not be sent to Boston to complete the Rajon Rondo trade.

Since being bad didn't have any benefit, why not see how good you can be? Despite battling injuries all year, they made the playoffs again. That should be celebrated. That's an accomplishment. That's success.

For the Warriors, making the playoffs is nothing special. Their goals are different. They're only goal is a championship. That was until they got off to the best start in NBA history and all of a sudden, the record for most wins in regular season history was on the table.

Success is a moving target, in life and in sports. When someone reaches a goal, they set a new one. When circumstances change, goals change. Rarely do plans actually work out exactly as someone lays them out. For the Warriors, the goal didn't change. They just added a new one.

The NBA's regular season is long. It starts in October and ends in April. Sometime in November or December, everyone realized the Warriors had a chance at 73 regular season wins because they hadn't lost yet and the wins were starting to stack up. At that point their season became a really long family vacation. You can't wait to leave, but by the end, even if you know you'll look back fondly, it's just time to go home.

That's where the Warriors are now. They're clearly exhausted, scraping together wins against teams they literally beat by 50 earlier in the season. They've also lost twice at home, something they didn't do all year until last weekend. The goal of championship is still at the top of their list, but along the way they'd love to get to 73. They've got two more wins to go. If they don't get it, it's nearly impossible to say that the regular season hasn't been successful. They've already assured themselves one of the two winningest regular seasons in the history of the sport. Of course that's successful, even if they don't reach their goal of breaking the record.

For the Warriors, success depends on their first goal. They must win another championship. Falling short of that is a failure by anyone's standard based on what Golden State has accomplished and what they're capable of. The funny thing about success being a moving target, is it often moves back to where it started. While the focus is on the regular season record, the determination of success hasn't moved one bit for Steph Curry and co.

That concept of moving goals and moving success brings us to the other end of the NBA spectrum: the 76ers. Sam Hinkie resigned from his front office position this week as Philadelphia continued to bring in other people around him. Hinkie wrote in his resignation letter that the changing dynamic didn't leave him in a position that he felt he could make the best decisions for the team.

Hinkie's plan to rebuild the 76ers was much maligned, but it was also misunderstood. The biggest misunderstanding was his definition of success.

Winning in the NBA actually isn't that hard. Winning championships is nearly impossible. The margin between a good team like the Mavericks and a championship team like the Warriors is massive. Hinkie wanted to build a championship team.

In order to do that, he gutted the roster and maximized his means of acquiring a star player (which you need at least one of, if not two to win a title) via the draft. In the meantime, he didn't care about how his team did. He knew he needed that player.

Upon his resignation (which wasn't forced by ownership directly, although the moves they made around him were the reasons he resigned), many analysts brought up teams like Orlando and Denver to say "you don't have to be so extreme to rebuild" as the Sixers have been the last three years.

Orlando and Denver have acquired some nice pieces. None of those pieces are the championship piece that Hinkie wanted. Sure, they've got better rosters and if they can either pick a winner later in the draft, get lucky and win the lottery or acquire a superstar player via trade or free agency, the superior roster helps them be in a position to win faster. With Orlando, this is even feasible as they've been a free agent destination in the past. With Denver? They better hope for the luck option.

Meanwhile the Sixers have the highest odds ever at the number one pick and might wind up with two picks in the top 5 this season. Every plan involving a lottery and talent evaluation also involves substantial luck. Why not give yourself the maximum chances to get lucky?

That's not to say Hinkie was perfect and didn't make some mistakes. He could've potentially had better players already with better scouting. He underestimated the human side of player development in having no veteran presence in his locker room. However his long-term plan often came under attack for the wrong reasons.

People failed to understand his definition of success. He didn't want to his team to be good. He wanted them to be great. He knew that would take time. He ran out of time.

Success is a funny thing. It can be defined by a person for themselves. It can be defined by others. It can be defined by precedent and history. It can be defined by smashing precedent and making history. It can be clearly defined. It can be misunderstood. All of those things are no more easily found than in pro sports at a season's end.

4/7 Hoffman Podcast: Sam Hinkie resigns (with Jeff Platt)

My former co-host and fellow NBA junkie Jeff Platt joins me to talk about Sam Hinkie's surprise resignation in Philadelphia. We also discuss the team Jeff currently covers, the Spurs, and their pursuit of perfection and home and ultimate mission of beating the Warriors.



For reference, Sam Hinkie's letter can be read here. His podcast with Zach Lowe is here. Lowe also did a podcast with Sixers coach Brett Brown recently that is very good. That can be found here.

Random Rumblings: April 6th

After yesterday's blurb on the national title game, the blog of varied topics returns today. It includes a note on the historic Warriors run, something I forgot to mention about that title game and we start with a trial that captured America all over again.

The People vs OJ Simpson

The series finale of The People vs OJ Simpson last night on FX wrapped up a brilliant series that deserves the critical acclaim it's getting. The 1995 trial of OJ Simpson captivated America, right down to me as a kindergartener. While most of my classmates didn't care, I distinctly remember watching the verdict in my classroom along with one of my teachers. At the time, I obviously had no clue what I was watching. A five year old can't process the crime or the context, but I remember watching and knowing it was a big deal.

Twenty-one years later, I understand as much as one can not having consciously lived through it. The show did a remarkable job retelling an incredibly complex story that took 16 months in a ten episode mini-series. What I enjoyed about the show is how it wasn't trying to tell the story of the murders, but instead how the jury arrived at the verdict and how that journey impacted in incredibly high number of people.

I had no idea what the prosecutors went through. I didn't know nearly as much about Johnny Cochran's background and mission. I certainly didn't know about the insane twists and turns Judge Ito and the jury went through during the case. It was a learning experience as much as a show for entertainment, which I consider a massive positive considering the subject matter. Two people died. That can't be forgotten or taken for granted.

After every episode, I read fact-checking articles and I was astonished to see how accurate the show was. From the sexual tension between Marcia Clark and Chris Darden to various bombs dropped in the court room, the series did a rather remarkable job of capturing the circus that the trial was at the very least in spirit, if not directly accurately.

There was really only one moment where a stray from reality bothered me and that was the glove scene. It's the most pivotal moment of the trial and the show presents Darden's request of Simpson to try on the gloves as a rogue move that shocks his boss and colleague in Clark. That's not how it happened, so I'm not sure why the writers of the show chose that moment for perhaps their furthest stretch from the truth.

All in all, the show was fantastic. It was captivating, and many who were there for the trial were stunned at how it took them back, which is perhaps the greatest compliment the show could receive. I don't want to say I enjoyed it, again because of the subject matter, but it became much watch and I'm certainly glad I learned about one of the more captivating events of the last 30 years of American history.

One More Wildcat Thing

I wrote yesterday on Monday's national championship game, and soon after hitting publish realized I had forgotten one thing I wanted to mention: Villanova's discipline in that game was as easily identifiable as I've ever seen in a basketball game.

Controlling pace is talked about a lot in basketball, especially when one team has a very distinct preference. Villanova did a masterful job of slowing the game down, not so much because they like to play that way, but because they know North Carolina doesn't.

I've never seen a team so deliberately slow the pace while still playing with urgency. Even when teams slow down, they'll still run to try and steal a basket on a live ball turnover (steal, block, etc.) or a long rebound. Villanova didn't. They walked the ball up the court every single time, but they didn't then stand there and waste clock like so many teams in college basketball do. They walked up, ran a set and got good shots. It was a way to keep the pace down, but the pressure on North Carolina. It worked to the tune of 77 points on 57% shooting. This wasn't Wisconsin playing a garbage game in the forties. This was an offensive display of master discipline and execution. Credit to the Villanova coaches for the plan and the players for executing it to perfection.

For The Record

I've admired how the Golden State Warriors have conducted themselves this season. They're not afraid to talk about pursuing the '96 Bulls record of 72 wins. After last night's loss to Minnesota, they now need to win their final four games to break that record. Surely some will say "if they'd quit talking about it and just focus on the task, maybe they wouldn't lose games at home to lottery teams," but I'm not sure how they're supposed to avoid it.

The media wouldn't be doing their job if they didn't ask about the record. It's an amazing achievement that teams don't often have a chance of touching. Refusing to answer questions about it would just stack pressure internally. Instead, the Warriors have spoken openly about wanting to break it and why wouldn't they? "We want to win a lot!" Oh the horror!

The tricky thing with a record like this and the season they've had is that it's been a question for most of the season. As we near the end of the season and the reality of achieving the feat, the fatigue has to be real. The constant scrutiny has to wear down on them, as is the reality of having played 78 NBA games where teams are gunning to be one of the few losses in the Warriors' history books.

Even though the Warriors haven't played their best ball over the last few weeks, they're still winning at a remarkable rate and still are the team to beat, despite San Antonio's nearly equally remarkable season. If anything, doubts of their demise might serve as a boost of motivation and reinvigorate them for the playoffs.

The Warriors can still win the final four games and get the record. Whether they do or not, this is still unquestionably one of the best regular seasons by a team in NBA history, and if they win a title they'll be on any short list for best team ever.

What A Game

The 2016 Men's Basketball Championship was one of the best sporting events I've ever seen. A great sporting event factors in a multitude of things. It simply can't be a great game. A great game can happen in my Thursday night pick-up game on a too-small court at an elementary school played mostly by men who can't jump over a phone book.

A great sporting event requires the stakes to be high, and they don't get higher in college basketball than they were Monday night in Houston. It requires greater context, in this case two groups of seniors who had largely felt heartbreak in March, trying to finish off their careers with two victories in April.

It requires high level play, which knocks out my Thursday night pickup game. This game had that. While the officiating wasn't great (it rarely is in college basketball), the game was undoubtedly decided by the players. The high-level shot making started early and didn't end, quite literally, until the buzzer sounded.

Which brings us to the final criterion for a great sporting event: the end. The end of this game started before the end. UNC guard Marcus Paige, one of those seniors, somehow turned this into a made three point basket to tie the game.

My favorite part of this brilliant image by Lance King of Getty is Villanova's Mikal Bridges (#25) looking like "psh, okay" as Brice Johnson (#11, UNC) behind him has the look of "oh dear, okay Marcus?" as Paige uncoils and fires the ball towards the rim. He made this shot!!

Paige, who had a miserable year shooting the ball, seemed to make up for it all at once in the tournament. He hit multiple threes in every game of the tournament, including four Monday night. However instead of being able to look back and celebrate one of the most remarkable shots in NCAA Tournament history, Paige is haunted by the 4.7 seconds that followed.

It's a moment that will live forever. We are lucky as college basketball fans to have moments in this neighborhood with an astounding level of regularity. Gordon Hayward's shot that missed in 2011, Mario Chalmers shot that didn't in 2008 and Hakim Warrick's block in 2003 are just some of the amazing moments in close games that helped decide a championship. However the true buzzer beater is rare. Hayward's would've been, but it went begging by fractions of an inch.

The last time it happened was 1983, when Lorenzo Charles put back Dereck Whittenburg's 30-foot miss at the buzzer to cap NC State's underdog run to Jim Valvano's only title. Forgetting the added context of the improbability NC State was even in that game and what we know about Valvano's life after, I'll put this shot above that one. Whittenburg missed and Charles was in the right place. This play also involved two people, but in a totally different way.

As kids, we all dream of hitting the game-winning shot to win a championship. Ryan Arcidiacono's dream undoubtedly had him in a Villanova jersey. The Wildcats senior is the son of two Nova grads and grew up living and dying with the squad he would eventually play for. The ball was in his hands as the clock wound down. While he wouldn't have had a great look, he could've taken the shot and lived with the result. If he made it, he's a hero. If he doesn't, the game goes to overtime.

He did neither. He passed. Kris Jenkins deserves credit too for more than hitting the shot. It would've been easy to trot down the floor and watch Arcidiacono take a shot at greatness. Instead, he trailed the play, ready to shoot and when he saw his teammate doubled, made sure to call for the ball. That still doesn't mean Arcidiacono had to pass it. If he had forced a shot, no one today would have said "he should've passed to Jenkins," but he did. Jenkins was able to step into the shot and he nailed it. He's a legend. Forever, he'll be the guy who hit the shot to win the title. Arcidiacono made that so, and he deserves immense credit for it.

That said, let's not pretend Arcidiacono isn't a legend in his own right. It seems like he's been at Villanova since their last title in 1985. Of course he wasn't born then, but he's now cemented his place along side Ed Pinckney in Villanova lore. He was the best player on a championship team, the unquestioned leader and his play last night was exemplary. He had a confidence about him usually reserved for Steph Curry. It seemed he knew what was going to happen and played with no doubt. That was a lot of fun to watch, unless you were wearing Carolina blue.

This game had everything. It had legendary performances. It had legendary moments. It had a legendary ending. What more could you ask for? Unless you had a rooting interesting in an alternate ending, the answer is simply nothing.

Random Rumblings: April 4th

I had breakfast with a good friend yesterday and he asked me how I was doing. The answer, as has been typical as of late, is "the job hunt's going slowly, but I'm really good." Those are both true. The job hunt in a super competitive industry that hasn't had a lot of movement is going slowly, but despite that I'm largely enjoying life and making the most of the free time.

As the conversation continued and he asked what I've been doing, I told him about what I've done to stay busy, including writing and podcasting. I followed that up with my usual "I really should be doing that more." My friend, who is also in the business, agreed. So I am. Starting today, there will be a post here of some type five days per week. Sometimes it'll be a short blurb. Sometimes it'll be a podcast. Sometimes it'll be a longer piece.

Unless there is one topic that deserves its own, stand-alone column, I'm going to return to the form I used when I was job-less in 2013. I'm going to just "empty the notebook." Whatever topics are on my mind, I'll comment on. Some will be the ones everyone is talking about. Some will be a little more off the beaten path. Off we go, with today's topics being on the hardwood.

The Cuse is No Longer Loose

Syracuse's miracle run through the NCAA tournament ended Saturday night when they were soundly beaten by an unquestionably better North Carolina squad. UNC is the perfect tournament team. They've got an incredible mix of talent and experience with seniors Marcus Paige and Brice Johnson leading the way. They're both incredibly talented, know how to play and are tremendous competitors.

Syracuse isn't quite there yet. They have some talent, but the best of it is young outside of senior Michael Gbinije, who carried the Orange offensively through much of the year. Malachi Richardson and Tyler Lydon weren't quite ready for the moment as freshmen. Trevor Cooney actually played one of his best games in a Syracuse uniform in the season finale, but never quite lived up to what many thought he was capable of offensively in his time at SU. The talent was too young. The experience wasn't quite at the level of UNC's talent.

That said, this run was so enjoyable because of just that. It was an imperfect team who was completely maxing out what they were capable of. While the average fan may not understand the x's and o's of execution, everyone can appreciate effort. Even the most clueless of sports observers can go "that guy is playing really hard." While yes, Cooney didn't pan out as an offensive force like many of us thought he might, he played extraordinarily hard every minute and clearly put in a lot of work based on his growth over five years on campus into a well-rounded player. The same can be said for DaJuan Coleman. The five-star prospect arrived on campus as a hometown hero from nearby Jamesville-Dewitt, but has fought injury and never been the impact player he was slated to be. He's still busted his ass to become the best he can be, and hopefully with a fifth year next year after finishing this season healthy, can be a big time producer.

Jim Boeheim says Gbinije grew more as a player in his time than any player he's ever coached. Watching that growth has been a joy as a fan. I think he's got potential, because of his size, to be a pro. He's shown he can improve and will have to extend his range to the NBA three, but he's worth a second round pick in June.

Malachi Richardson's NBA path is a different story. He's not ready yet, but likely will be after next year. He was wildly inconsistent all year and that includes his signature game of the NCAA Tournament. He started 0-7 against Virginia before erupting in the second half to lead SU to the Final Four. Richardson should follow the Dion Waiters model and wait one more year. He'll be the featured option next season and should average between 15-20 ppg. With Syracuse poised to be a very good team again next year, Richardson could wind up in the lottery.

It won't surprise me if he tests the draft waters. The NCAA changed their rules in January to allow prospects to attend the NBA combine, feel out where they'll be drafted and still return to school so long that they don't hire an agent. Richardson could, and probably should, go but he'll find he's at best a borderline first round pick. One more year should do the trick.

Is UConn's good, good?

Boston columnist Dan Shaughnessy has spouted many questionable opinions over the years, and his most recent is being called that and worse by many. Shaughnessy said that the UConn women's continued dominance is bad for women's basketball. While his initial method, a tweet that seemed to wreak of sexism, wasn't a great look, his column after expounded and brought up legitimate questions that are worth exploring.

I think the answer to the question, "Is UConn's dominance good for women's basketball?" is "yes and no." In the short-term, Shaughnessy is right for a lot of fans. As he says, competition is the essence of sports and UConn has no current competition. After beating Oregon State on Sunday night, they've won 121 of 122 games, all of them by double figures. They're the three-time defending champions and only mighty Syracuse (go Orange!) stands in their way of number four. I love Coach Q and company, but my school will be finishing in second place.

Because of that dominance, there are fans who won't watch. However there are also fans that will. I enjoy greatness immensely and watching UConn pick a part an opponent is actually enjoyable. They play basketball at an extraordinarily high level. At that point you're not watching for the competition. You're watching for the excellence.

So while the short-term concerns Shaughnessy has are at least worth considering, there's no question this is good for the game long-term. There's a generation of girls watching this team, striving to be like Breanna Stewart and Moriah Jefferson. The level of skill and creativity is on the rise in the women's game and a lot of this can be credited back to what Geno Auriemma and UConn have done. Auriemma runs NBA sets with his players and let's those players, like Stewart, Dianna Taurasi and Maya Moore showcase their skills. That will lead to more talent in the women's game and the sport will be better for it.

The bar UConn is setting will raise the sport as a whole. It already has in many ways. While UConn sits alone at the top, the other three teams in the Final Four were there for the first time. That's a great sign of the growing talent, and as more elite talent becomes available, the gap on UConn will close. Frankly, it'll close next year anyway when Stewart (who is in the discussion for best player UConn's ever had, which means she's one of the best ever anywhere) and Jefferson graduate.

Shaughnessy's initial tweet may have been very hot-takey, but his concerns were at least worth asking a few questions. Hopefully that helps answer them.

Coming Up Tomorrow

If there's a logical thing that I know I'll be writing about tomorrow, I'll preview it at the end of the blog. I'm headed to Opening Day in Baltimore, which should be a blast. Unless it rains. Baseball does pomp and circumstance better than any other sport, so I'm looking forward to the festivities.

Of course the national championship game will also be discussed. Villanova is playing outstanding basketball, but I'm taking North Carolina. That and more tomorrow!

The Battle of the Alma Maters

I left Riverside High School in 2008 bound for Middle Tennessee State University and a career in music production. That lasted about six weeks before I changed my major. Two years later I was a broadcast journalism major leaving Murfreesboro for Syracuse. The details of that aren't particularly relevant at the moment, but it was the best decision I ever made. Being an SU alum has opened more doors than I could ever imagine, but my time at MTSU was just as important, and basketball was an enormous reason why.

Syracuse is as big time as a program can get, which means that it's a little harder to get on the inside. Being a student reporter makes it near impossible. Jim Boeheim has a historical disdain for them and routinely humiliates them in press conferences seemingly for sport. Again, that's a different column for a different day, but I was never more than an educated observer as a member of the media at SU.

That was far from the case at MTSU.

While many of you reading know me as a football guy from my job at ESPN980, basketball is my first love. It's my passion. I love to watch. I love to play. I love everything about it.

That love was cultivated in many ways at Middle. I was incredibly lucky to have two coaches that not only were accessible, but let me into the inner sanctums of their programs. They trusted me. They allowed me to learn.

Rick Insell was an extraordinarily accomplished high school coach before taking over the MTSU women's program. Kermit Davis was one of college basketball's rising stars before he was hit with major violations at Texas A&M and had to rebuild his career, starting in junior college. He made his way back to the D1 ranks and took over MTSU in 2002.

While I watched from press row for much of my freshman year, I started early my sophomore year as both Insell and Davis allowed me to watch practices long before the season started and kept their doors open for the entire year.

It was inside the Murphy Center, where both teams held practice, that I learned more about the game of basketball than at any other point of my life. I learned how much goes into game preparation. I learned the detail with which a team had to execute to be successful. I learned how a coach instills an attitude in a team and a program.

While Coach Insell and the woman's program had more success when I was there, I learned much of that from Coach Davis. The intensity and tempo of their practices showed me what it took to win on the Division 1 level. I knew that if he was given the time, he would be able to build a team that could consistently compete, in large part because of how much Davis taught them to compete.

Not only is Kermit a great coach with an incredible depth of knowledge, but he was also incredibly open and approachable. He, and his staff, would happily answer questions I had about their team and about the game.

Simply put, my career would've played out differently if I didn't spend that time at MTSU, not only from a media standpoint where I was able to get invaluable reps in a less competitive student media program, but from a basketball standpoint where I learned more than I could bargain for.

I took that knowledge with me and was known as a basketball guy until I arrived in DC. I still am. I just have a football education now too.

A lot has changed since I left both schools. None of the players are still at either school, unless you count Trevor Cooney who redshirted during my senior year at SU. Both teams are in different conferences as well. However the coaches are still the same and Sunday they'll play each other for a spot in the Sweet 16.

I've always felt more loyalty to Syracuse because I'm so personally attached to the university. I feel no such attachment to MTSU, and in many ways felt spurned by some of the academic types and administration there. However when it comes to the basketball programs, I certainly could justify rooting for either side.

I have a feeling I'll find myself rooting for the Orange, but if Kermit and company pull out another one, I'll certainly be proud of them. Just like I am now, despite them blowing my bracket to smithereens.

Thanks For The Stability

When Scot McCloughan took over as general manager of the Washington Redskins, he was charged with changing the culture of the franchise. The culture when he arrived screamed circus. Just a year later, players being told they're not welcome back are taking to social media to say that the Redskins are a first class organization.

World class organization! Scott McCloughan called me and i have nothing but respect. Didn't have to call me. Nothin but respect!

— Terrance Knighton (@MisterRoast98) March 7, 2016

How did this happen? That part is easy. McCloughan brought in a number of veteran players to help establish a culture of accountability. Those veterans set the tone every day of workouts, training camp and the season to lead the Redskins to the playoffs.

So why just a year later is the need for those players gone? In fact, it's probably fair to ask if it's gone.

No player embodied this more than DaShon Goldson. He was a solid player, but an amazing leader. Skins assistant Aubrey Pleasant described Goldson's leadership style to me as "leadership by democracy." The veteran safety made sure every player felt invested in the team's success. That helped lead to accountability because everyone felt responsible for themselves and others.

Knighton was the same kind of player. His production wasn't what the Redskins were looking for, and his role diminished as the season went on. Through that time though, he was a consistent voice in the locker room who had gravitas. He'd played in a Super Bowl. He'd been on winning teams.

For so many young teams in any sport, learning how to win is a process, and it requires people who know how to teach the younger generation. Despite veterans like Jason Hatcher, Knighton and Goldson, the Redskins are a very young roster, but they have emerging talent. Bashaud Breeland proved he could become a Pro Bowler, but also showed previously unseen leadership qualities. Will Compton emerged as a solid middle linebacker, along with Mason Foster. Homegrown talents Ryan Kerrigan and Trent Williams continue to play at high levels and grow as leaders.

With all the younger leaders emerging, McCloughan and the coaching staff clearly have determined that they don't need the guidance of the older players anymore, or at least as much of it. They learned, in one short year, what it takes to win in the NFL. Combine that with the expensive price tags and underwhelming performance and the team decided to move on not only from imports like Goldson and Knighton, but in-house good guys such as Darrel Young and Alfred Morris.

Put a different, and perhaps cruel, way - these guys are getting let go because they did their jobs. The franchise is now stable. A year ago, Jay Gruden was the Vegas favorite to be the first coach fired in the '15-16 season. Robert Griffin III was the starting quarterback, but inside the organization, no one felt good about it. The locker room was fractured after a miserable season.

Bringing in players from the outside helped stabilize everything, because they weren't a part of the previous chaos. The professional sports world moves fast. It doesn't look back. So as the new players came in, they got to work. The younger players followed. Griffin was replaced with Kirk Cousins. The chaos subsided. Cousins played well. The team won. It all works in concert. The result is the franchise is in an extraordinarily different place now than a year ago.

McCloughan can afford to let these players walk because he doesn't need them to stabilize anything. Now he can move on to the next phase of the rebuild, which is finding players who can play at a value he sees fit.