Lamont Butler and conflicting emotions
San Diego State’s buzzer-beating Final Four hero is gone and this loss hurts more than any loss on the court
If another baseball team offered to double my salary to become their play-by-play announcer, you better believe I’d say yes. Heck, if another team offered me $20,000 more, my answer is yes without hesitation.
I grew up in the Bay Area and chanted “Beat LA” as a kid frequently. When presented with an opportunity to become the Los Angeles Dodgers embedded reporter and co-host of Post Game Dodger Talk, it was an easy choice. I gleefully drank the Dodger Blue Kool-Aid. It tasted really good. I’d do it again.
I’m trying to remind myself of how quickly my own allegiance would change, and have changed, as I process the news that San Diego State basketball hero Lamont Butler entered the Transfer Portal on Wednesday and already found a new home with the University of Kentucky on Friday.
Make no mistake, this one hurts. I’m a middle-aged man who works in sports and spent the last three decades conditioning myself to become impervious to athletes changing uniforms. But, man alive, my heart sank when I read that Butler was transferring away from San Diego State.
That’s not how it usually works. Basketball players don’t leave SDSU. At least, not the good players. It’s the other way around. They come to America’s Finest City.
Under Steve Fisher and then his longtime assistant Brian Dutcher, they build Aztec Basketball from a moribund empty pit of apathetic nothing to a rabid celebrated prideful phenomenon on the backs of transfers.
Long before the Transfer Portal was the autobahn of college athletics, the Aztecs were Transfer U, snagging guard Tony Bland from Syracuse, forward Lorrenzo Wade from Louisville, center Mohamed Abukar from Florida, center Malcolm Thomas from Pepperdine, James Rahon from Santa Clara, point guard Xavier Thames from Washington State, forward Dwayne Polee from St. John’s, forward J.J. O’Brien from Utah, Josh Davis from NC State/Tulane, forward Angelo Chol from Arizona, point guard Aqeel Quinn from Cal State Northridge, guard Max Hoetzel from Indiana, and point guard Malachi Flynn from Washington State.
That’s not even close to all the impact players the Aztecs obtained via transfers. That paragraph was just already long enough that my point was hopefully clear.
Those players came to SDSU looking for a second chance, found a home, embraced the program’s selfless ethos of defense and togetherness, and continued a tradition that never graduates. I firmly believe the Aztecs staggering ability to win so many close games is largely due to their consistent roster and the culture of the program.
That extended to the devoted fan base, who understandably whine about shoddy offensive performances, yet chant “I believe that we will win” with such conviction and pride that, I’ll be damned, sure seems like it makes a difference on the court.
Ahhh, but those were the days when transfers had to sit out an academic year, and if there was any money or gifts, it was illegal.
College athletes no longer have to sit out a year upon transferring schools. [Side note: if coaches don’t have to sit out a year when they change schools for bigger paychecks, neither should players.]
Players can now negotiate deals to profit from their own Name, Image and Likeness. Universities can setup a collective that funnels money directly to their players and requires very little effort from the players in return.
Lamont Butler, Sr. spoke candidly to reporter Mark Zeigler of The San Diego Union-Tribune this week multiple times about the decision for his son. Even though it’s a punch to the gut to read the Aztecs were basically outspent, I respect the family’s honesty.
Butler Sr. declined to provide the NIL inducement from Kentucky’s boosters, but in discussing the decision to enter the portal Wednesday night, he called it a “business decision.”
“Our family, we sacrificed last year financially and this year we just weren’t willing to sacrifice again with the opportunities that before us,” he added. “We talked and said, ‘We’ve heard the numbers out there, so let’s get in the portal and see how it goes.’ We talked to (coach Brian Dutcher) and were respectful, and he said, ‘I can’t stop you guys. This is a business decision you have to take on.’
“And that’s basically what it is.”
Butler was believed to have made close to $200,000 at SDSU last season — $50,000 from the MESA Foundation, SDSU’s basketball collective; $50,000 privately from a booster; and an estimated $75,000 to $100,000 in “real” NIL deals to promote smoothies, burritos, clothing retailers and other local business.
I’m always in favor of the talent getting paid. Athletes have a limited number of years when their bodies will allow them to play sports. They should take every penny they can get in those years without remorse. Barring a drastic change over the next year, Butler is not an NBA player. He can earn some decent money playing oversees, but his window to get paid has a rapidly expiring expiration date.
I can never be mad at a young man who brought so much unbridled joy to me, my friends, and put my beloved university on a national platform with a buzzer beater to send the Aztecs to the National Championship game in 2023. I watch the video of my friends celebrating that shot constantly. Tears are in my eyes as I type this, as I think about that moment.
But even if brain is happy for Lamont and the financial future for the entire Butler family, my heart is crushed. It feels like the college basketball version of Camelot falling.
My concern isn’t how the Aztecs will survive without Butler on the court. My fear is how this symbolizes the end of what the Aztecs built, that their blue-collar existence won’t be able to match what the bluebloods of college basketball can pay the top players, and even if they do, victory won’t feel the same.
On the court, the Aztecs will definitely survive Butler’s departure. He was a typical Aztec: ferocious competitor, intense defender … yet limited offensively. After his buzzer beater, Butler became a national superstar, tested the NBA draft waters, realized he wouldn’t get selected, and came back to SDSU.
We all had high hopes that after dedicated workouts for NBA scouts, Butler would return as a more impactful offensive threat. He was basically the same player as the year before. His per-game averages were nearly identical in points (8.8 to 9.3), rebounds (2.7 to 2.6), assists (3.2 to 3.0) and steals (1.5 to 1.5). He shot slightly worse on 3-pointers (34.2% to 30.2%, and shockingly struggled from the free-throw line (73.1% to 59.4%) this year.
It’s quite the possible the Aztecs are better without Butler. That will depend on, naturally, what transfers the Aztecs get.
Sports are not always about facts or logic. It’s about emotions and memories, pretending that money doesn’t matter, that loyalty trumps everything, even if we scream our frustration at players and coaches one day, then fall into despair when they leave the next day.
Their used to be this truism about sports, “it’s the coach/team’s job to find somebody better than you to take your place. It’s the player’s job to not let someone take your job.”
That’s still mostly true.
What’s also now true is this, “it’s the player’s job to find the best opportunity for playing time and/or money. It’s the coach/team’s job to make you believe that best place is where you already are.”
All the best to Lamont Butler. In my book, he’ll always be an Aztec For Life. I’ll always wear my “Butler At The Buzzer” t-shirt with pride.
I hope he reaches the national title game next year at Kentucky … and loses on a buzzer beater to the Aztecs.
In the meantime, maybe it’s time for Aztec Nation to reach a little deeper into their pockets, huh?