The Heat went down in flames yesterday, burned in Dixie as one of the NBA’s most puzzling playoff series came to its merciful end. From the ashes of Miami’s Game 7 flameout to the host Atlanta Hawks emerges the riddle that remains Jamaal Magloire.
The Big Cat turns 31 in a fortnight after failing to turn heads on the hardwood.
No one can say with any degree of certainty how much game the Toronto native has left because he hasn’t been given any consistent minutes for quite some time.
There are those in the NBA who would argue that he hasn’t earned them, that Magloire has taken a step back in each of the seasons following his breakout offensive year in 2003 when he averaged a career-high 13.6 points.
How many lives this former Kentucky Wildcat has left is anyone’s guess. His future in South Beach is tenuous at best, especially with Jermaine O’Neal in the fold and Miami’s fondness for Canadian Joel Anthony.
Magloire officially becomes a free agent this summer.
The thing about Jamaal Magloire is that he has had sooooo, soooo, sooooo many opportunities to play in the summer and he doesn’t. So I feel as sorry for him now, like I felt sorry for him when I played against him in highschool. If there was ever a cliche saying of how lucky someone is till somrthing is gone, this would have his picture. I have a tough time watching him play sometimes, he looks as out of wack and as slow as ever, but he brings toughness, so that’s what gets him 10 or less minutes a game. His career should have been 10 and 10, and I truelly think that is a fair assessment.