Just one of the guys
Former Raptor Vince Carter, at 40, is finally playing the role that makes him happiest
MEMPHIS— Time and circumstance have changed what Vince Carter is but not who he is.
On the eve of his 40th birthday, about two decades removed from an astonishing beginning to an NBA career built on jaw-dropping dunks that brought him global fame and notoriety, Carter remained what he said he always was: someone who would rather blend in than stand out, someone who wants to be great but not because of what greatness brings, a man whose skills wouldn’t allow him to be just one of the guys.
“This is the guy I’ve always wanted to be,” he said Tuesday. “Just a guy who wanted to help, loved to play the game and loved the success of the team, I want it for all of us.
“It’s a different role now where that can shine through but I’m still the same guy. I just don’t jump as high.”
But he was that guy who could jump that high and it came with a measure of fame a young Carter never quite seemed comfortable with. Vinsanity. Half-Man
‘It’s a different role now . . . but I’m still the same guy. I just don’t jump as high.” VINCE CARTER ON PLAYING THE GAME AT 40
Half-Amazingula. Adulation from every corner of the globe because of his abilities. It was his blessing and, in some ways, his curse.
“I just never thought I was bigger than the game. I worked my butt off to be the best I could be and I understood what came with that,” he said.
“When you have a goal of being an allstar, when you have a goal of being the best player on your team, when you’re trying to be one of the best players in the league, what comes with that is notoriety, is fame and the whole nine yards. I understood that.”
“I didn’t mind it but that’s not what I was striving to get. I wanted to prove myself in this league.” He did that, and then some. He was an eight-time all-star and his performance in the 2001 dunk contest remains a seminal moment in that event’s history. His dunk over seven-foot Frederic Weis at the 2000 Sydney Olympics will live in lore forever. Oh, he proved himself all right.
It was how he handled that fame, dealt with his profile that was at times confusing. He shied away from it in some ways, very little chest- thumping considering his status in the game, a reserve some saw as offputting.
“That was one thing that up until this day, I never really talked about, that people didn’t understand about me,” he said. “I was in the life, I was in the forefront of the popularity of league with some of the other greats and for our team but . . . I still didn’t think I was best.
“I’m very reserved, I’m to myself so sometimes it came off as, not snobbish, maybe standoffish. I was always a behind-the-scenes guy, I’m still that guy today.
“I didn’t mind coming out here and doing my thing and if you recognize me for it, fine; if you don’t, fine. I just want to play.
“I never looked at it to be in the limelight where it was, ‘Hey, you know who I am.’ It wasn’t that.”
Carter is now the oldest player in the NBA and more than just an eminence grise with the Grizzlies. Yes, he provides leadership and advice but he also averages about eight points, four rebounds and 24 minutes a night for the Grizzlies, who were 2620 and seventh in the Western Conference before hosting the Raptors on Wednesday night.
Things are going so well and his impact on the game is still substantial enough that he sees no reason to consider not playing. He’d like to get into television eventually — he’s done some playoff and Summer League broadcast work to dip his toe in the water — but a 20-year career has a nice ring to it.
“I said a 15-year career was sufficient, when you look at some of the greats in the game, some of them didn’t even play 15 years,” he said. “I never put a number on it or capped it off after I passed 15 though. I was just playing the game because my body has allowed me to do so. Then it got to where . . . if you’re going to play 19 you may as well round it up to 20.”
That would give Carter at least one last trip to Toronto next season, perhaps another cathartic moment for him and the fans. After such vitriol and raw hatred followed him for almost a decade after his 2004 trade to the New Jersey Nets, the prolonged ovation he got during a game in Toronto’s 20th anniversary season was like the lifting of a cloud.
“It was unreal,” he said of that 2014 night. “It was like holding up that dunk contest trophy, it was like holding up the rookie of the year trophy, it was like being drafted. It was a proud moment.”