He's not even trying to get up. He's not even trying to get up. Wait, he's not even trying to get up. Seriously, he's not even trying to get up. Oh my god he's not even trying to get up! Why is he not even trying to get up?
When I saw Wesley Matthews laying on the ground with his hands on his forehead staring up into nothingness as an actual basketball play continued on around him, I knew it was over. Anyone who's watched him for two minutes let alone four and half years knows this is no Paul Pierce. Crying and getting carried off the floor only to come back minutes later is not an option for Ironman. If he can walk, he's still playing defense.
Waiting for the official word was like when your girlfriend says you need to talk after a rough couple months of petty disagreements. You know what's coming but you try to convince yourself otherwise to the point the actual words are still devastating. "Wesley Matthews has a ruptured Achilles tendon". Nothing but daggers to the heart.
In theory, the impact should have been lessened by the acquisition of Arron Afflalo or the emergence of CJ McCollum. In practice, that fateful, no-contact cut ended the Blazers season.
Portland entered the game on March 5th with a record of 40-19 sitting pretty near the top of the Western Conference. They had just won four in a row against brutal competition and looked poised for a solid stretch run. They would finish the year 10-12, then lay an egg in the postseason. A special year turned into speculation and disaster. We still don't know if we'll ever see this version of the Blazers again.
That just can't be Ironman's last play in a Blazers uniform. It just can't. Can it?