His career ended the way it began: in fits and starts.
When Steve Nash officially retired in March 2015, the decision had been simmering for months, if not years. What was supposed to be a championship victory lap with the star-studded Los Angeles Lakers turned into a disaster, like a big-budget Hollywood action movie with the right cast and the right director but a script so full of holes that everyone drowns. He broke his leg in his second game with the Lakers and he was never truly himself again. There was a brief glimmer of hope in training camp in 2014 that he may have finally tamed the related nerve and back problems that limited him to 65 games in his final two seasons. But then he reinjured his back grabbing some luggage and he knew it was done.
The official retirement came months later as the Lakers decided to hold on to his contract as a possible trading chip. The only suspense was provided by the timing of the announcement, not the thing itself. (The press conference was a little awkward, given that the Lakers held it—though Nash is the most beloved basketball player ever in Canada, he isn’t held in quite the same regard in Laker-land.)
In one sense, his retirement was a relief. With his current woes behind him, the basketball world was free again to gaze with wonder at where he’d come from and what he’d done.
Nothing was ever easy for Nash, from earning an NCAA scholarship to getting himself on the NBA’s radar from mid-major Santa Clara to trying to find playing time as a rookie in Phoenix behind all-star point guards Jason Kidd and Kevin Johnson to emerging as the conductor of the run-and-gun Suns, who showed the competitive and aesthetic benefits of an uptempo, three-happy attack (the 2015 NBA champion Golden State Warriors say thanks).
Despite the early struggles, Nash kept at it. He improved his fitness. He kept raising his already remarkable level of skill (he shot an impressive 84.7 per cent from the free-throw line during his first three NBA seasons; he retired as a 90.4 per cent shooter, the best mark in NBA history). He kept shooting for the stars, and he got there. No other Canadian has carved out a career like his in the NBA.
And while he represents the leading edge of a wave of Canadian basketball talent that has swept the NBA and may only be beginning in terms of both quality and depth, Nash is so far ahead of the field that he may never be caught. Will Andrew Wiggins be a two-time MVP? Maybe, but it’s hard to expect that. Will Jamal Murray finish his career (which hasn’t even started yet) third all-time in assists? Will Nik Stauskas ever be mentioned as one of the best shooters in basketball history?
And how many players, under any flag, will ever be associated with changing the way the game is played at the highest levels of the sport?
Not many. Nash is one.