Cade Cunningham, and the joy that comes
A personal reflection of heartbreak, redemption, and the feeling that arises when your team finally lands upon a star.
Growing up, I often heard a phrase from my parents and other adults about relationships. It was always random combination of words and unsolicited advice that ended with the same sentiment:
“The right person will come along. When you know, you know.”
I didn’t believe those words for a second. I believed in my ability to be great once I was in a relationship, but actually convincing someone to like me for more than two seconds became life’s biggest obstacle. I crushed on the girl I sat next to in my first high school class, the girl who was everyone’s friend, the girl who went far away to school and could never have liked me anyway. When I got to college, the pattern repeated: there was the girl who dated my friend instead, the girl who couldn’t possibly communicate enough, and the older, experienced girl who was Kelly Oubre in the looks department but just as unable to find a long-term fit — she was too good to be true, and eventually not true at all.
At last, I found someone. And I knew. And it’s the best feeling in the world. Years of getting worked up over what could’ve been, or what should’ve been, disappeared into the abyss. The pain was gone. The joy that comes with knowing I have the right person in my life drowns out all of the hurt from all of those years of disappointment. Some people never feel like this. I got lucky.
To compare my own stories of failed romantic endeavors to a professional basketball team seems a bit bizarre. I’m still going to go for it. The years of being hopeless, both in relationships and as a Pistons fan, have turned me into quite the romantic.
There’s a certain airy, empty feeling that belongs to Pistons fans who have watched their team over the past decade. When things are going right, they’re never going right enough. When a good player stops in Detroit, it’s fleeting. The grass is greener on at least 20 other sides. When things are going wrong, it’s unwatchable. A small group of die-hards remain, dreaming of a brighter future with constant meaningless arguments about how to get there.
Maybe it stems from a large segment of the Pistons crowd being Lions fans — which is an even colder, incomparable level of hell.
I’ve watched my Twitter timeline move at warp speed, littered with lengthy arguments about Andre Drummond, Sekou Doumbouya, and Christian Wood. I’ve even engaged in a few of these virtual scuffles, debating Killian Hayes’ slow start with other media hopefuls like myself. Reflecting on these situations, it’s easy to see that each of these arguments had a clear winner — nobody.
Like many Pistons fans, I clung on to the small victories. Reggie Jackson was good to us for a season, but couldn’t possibly play well enough. I loved Luke Kennard, even though he could never be Donovan Mitchell. The randomness of Anthony Tolliver brought temporary smiles to our faces. And then came the older, experienced Blake Griffin — who was too good to be true, and eventually not true at all.
And then the Pistons found someone. And we knew.
Like fans of the Mavericks, Hawks, Grizzlies, and Hornets would tell you, it’s the best feeling in the world. Years of trying to convince ourselves Avery Bradley and Bruce Brown were the guards of the future were over. We didn’t need to concoct fake trades to acquire Bradley Beal and Frank Ntilikina anymore. The pain is gone. The joy that comes with knowing Cade Cunningham will wear Detroit red, white, and blue for the foreseeable future drowns out all of the pain of watching Joe Johnson and Michael Beasley compete to make the Pistons roster. With the drop of a few ping pong balls, the Pistons got lucky.
Cade Cunningham has played less than ten games in his career. But his game-by-game rise in both confidence and production has answered the normal questions that come with drafting the no. 1 pick. Each game feels like another date, with Cade growing more comfortable with his teammates, his role, and his city. The sports heroes of Detroit’s past are either long gone or hanging on by a thread. If everything breaks right, it will be Cade’s city now. He’s also a reminder that it’s not about how you start, it’s about how you finish. Two absolute stinkers to start his pro career seem like a distant memory, now that Cunningham is thrusting himself towards the top of the Rookie of the Year ladder.
There’s still more work to be done. The Pistons must continue to prioritize Cade Cunningham. They must give him room to fail, and room to grow. To take the time. To ask the right questions. To listen to the answers. Being the face of the franchise shouldn’t be an appointed position — but it’s being earned on a nightly basis.
Those words that I heard throughout my adolescence, the unreachable heights of finding the right person in time felt more and more out of reach each year. I convinced myself that it would never happen — that I didn’t deserve it. But yet, one person was enough to shake all of the bad feelings I had about myself and show me what a bright future looks like. The right person.
The Pistons have found their person. There’s no questioning it anymore. The joy that comes with watching a budding star figure things out in each game is unrivaled.
When you know, you know.