Let Lance Stephenson Live

Lance Stephenson is not a werewolf. There is nothing alien or wretched inside him waiting to occasionally reveal itself. The guy who tattoos himself to his defensive assignment is also the one who sometimes seems to be playing against his own teammates. He is always himself, always turnt. He is whole and uncleavable. The only thing that changes from time to time is the direction in which his manic energy flows. This can make a big difference.

Good Lance vs. Bad Lance is the standard shorthand for discussing Stephenson's erraticism. It's useful, sort of, but untrue in one crucial respect: The construction treats Stephenson as if he's inscrutable, flipping between two states of being for no discernible reason. Even werewolves aren't werewolves: they're metaphors for drunks and rage-cases. We want to know why people lose control. Maybe the moon's got something to do with it…

But Stephenson isn't so mysterious. We know why he is the way he is: he plays with an untameable ferocity. In his most intense moments, his superego is a nigh inaudible voice beneath the ear-splitting thrum of his competitiveness. This is to say he's assholic, which isn't an undesirable trait in an athlete, but it does make him difficult to coach, and to play alongside. It also makes him a target for blame when shit breaks bad.

The Hornets, in what was supposed to be a season of marked growth, are in the Eastern Conference's basement. Outside of Al Jefferson's reliably efficient post-ups, they're without ideas on offense, and their defense, which was quite good last year, leaks like a cardboard dam. Stephenson is and isn't at the center of this. The entire squad is in a funk, but Stephenson is slumping as hard as anyone, and (shockingly) isn't handling it well. His jumper has forsaken him, and his body language suggests he assumed he would have the ball in his hands more often—he sulks whenever Kemba Walker runs the show for a few minutes. The Hornets are reportedly already looking to offload him in some sort of addition-by-subtraction trade.

Perhaps the situation will detoxify eventually, but at the moment, it appears Michael Jordan and Rich Cho misinterpreted Lance. They understood him as someone who could be cured of an essential aspect of his personality. Plan was, they would give Stephenson a more expansive role than he had in Indiana, and he would embrace the challenge and ascend to stardom, shedding his Bad Lance tendencies altogether.

The problem is Stephenson's assholicness isn't an affliction he can overcome; it's as inherent to his game as his shooting motion. It's up to the people around him to figure out how to turn this into a net positive. The reason Larry Bird and Frank Vogel are regarded as Lance Whisperers is not because they can get through to Stephenson in a unique way, but because they know the extent to which they cannot. At the height of their powers last season, the Pacers let Lance be Lance, but they had failsafes in place. When he struggled, Vogel had other players he could lean on. When Stephenson got out of control, Vogel pulled him off the floor. He was an important player, but he didn't dictate the Pacers' trajectory. The folks who built and ran the team made sure of that.

Jordan and Cho were in a hurry this offseason, and they spent like it. After their attempt to prise Gordon Hayward from the Jazz failed, they went after Stephenson, because he was the next best player available. Stephenson had just turned down a five-year, $44 million deal from the Pacers and found the market for his services wasn't as competitive as he thought it would be. So he signed with the Hornets for three years and $27 million, because that was the next best option available. In retrospect, both sides might have put less thought into the decision than they should have. They both made a mistake of Bluthian proportions.

Stephenson's screwup was hubris-based. He thought once he spurned Indiana, there would be four or five teams eager to give him superior offers. He didn't realize most of the league was afraid to pay him. But what's the Hornets' excuse? It seems they signed Lance Stephenson and expected only part of him to show up. They were bound to be disappointed.