Will Bynum began his Detroit Pistons career as a nondescript player on the fringe of the roster, barely (if at all) factoring into the team’s future plans. That’s basically how his career with the Pistons ended, too, with a trade sending him to the Boston Celtics in exchange for a player who will have minimal (if any) impact this season. But the in-between matters.
Bynum was far from a perfect player. OK … he was very far from a perfect player — but that’s what made him so endearing. Always best suited to a role in which he was simply a change-of-pace energy player off the bench, the Pistons continuously encountered problems with that concept – no one told Bynum that.
His effort eclipsed bigger-name (and much more highly paid) veteran guards like Allen Iverson, Richard Hamilton and Ben Gordon. His understanding of how to create shots for others was superior to Rodney Stuckey and Brandon Knight, young players the organization invested significant (and ultimately fruitless) time into developing as full-time point guards. He developed better pick-and-roll chemistry with franchise center Andre Drummond than last year’s starting point guard, Brandon Jennings.
None of that is an attempt to make a case that Bynum deserved a larger role that he was never ultimately entrusted with, either. Even to his most ardent supporters (like … uh … me, for example), it was clear what Bynum was a solid reserve who could speed up the pace of the game, create shots for himself and others, score reasonably efficiently and occasionally have explosive games off the bench that could sway an outcome. Nothing about his game — notably, his porous defense, lack of a reliable 3-point shot and injury concerns — would lead anyone to conclude that he was starting-point guard material. His presence, rather, was a constant reminder of the organization’s inability to properly identify or develop guard talent during his six-season Pistons tenure. Despite numerous attempts, the Pistons couldn’t find starting-caliber guards who were clearly superior options to their longtime backup.
But let’s be clear — although the Pistons were obviously a mess from talent-evaluation and player-development standpoint for Bynum’s entire career, he also deserves immense credit for his own relentless stubbornness. He never accepted his lot as second or third string point guard, he continuously went at and out-performed players ahead of him on the depth chart and, even when multiple coaches tried to remove him from the rotation altogether, he always found his way back in and made it impossible for them to not to play him.
I enjoyed watching Bynum because he could be both insanely dynamic and dynamically insane. There wasn’t a lot of middle ground. He has some incredible highlights in his career that most journeyman backup guards could only dream of — a 20-assist game, a handful of what looked like blowouts that Bynum swung with scoring outbursts in garbage time to lead the Pistons all the way back and some breathtakingly athletic dunks over much larger opposing players to name a few. He could also be erratic, turnover-prone, too shot-happy and completely unengaged on defense. Those poor performances were usually at warp speed just like his incredible ones — so basically, either way you were going to be entertained.
Beyond just style of play, though, I admired his difficult path from starting overseas and in the D-League to carving out what is now a lengthy, successful NBA career. I admired his tenacity and the fact that, despite what seemed like attempts to find better options than him every year, his attitude never outwardly seemed poor and he just simply continued to out-work those allegedly better options. There were many times during the last six seasons of Pistons basketball — an incredibly bleak period in the team’s history — where Bynum was literally the only player worth watching. Even if the franchise was a mess during his tenure, Bynum’s professionalism, his effort and his style of play made him the heart and soul of the team.
I can understand why Stan Van Gundy — rightfully desperate to shake the organization out of its malaise — wouldn’t have much use for the ‘heart and soul’ of what Van Gundy inherited. Bynum’s role and production is inherently replaceable. But then again, it always has been, and the team never figured out how they could let him go.
Ultimately, both parties will be fine going in separate directions. But I have no doubt that had he stayed, Van Gundy would be faced with a similar problem to his predecessors — point guards he’d rather give minutes to who just can’t figure out how to out-play Will Bynum.