The Phoenix Suns have finally filled the two most visible seats at the table: a general manager and a head coach. But now comes the real reckoning. Their gaze must turn inward, toward a bloated, miscast roster in desperate need of salvation. They are paying for the sins of summers past. The wild, hubristic swings made under the intoxicating glow of potential, and the road to redemption will require many Our Fathers, a rosary or two, and perhaps a few stiff drinks to numb the ache of regret.
Chief among those sins is the acquisition of Bradley Beal, a move that felt reckless in real time and has only curdled further with age.