For the past three seasons, the goal for Philadelphia 76ers fans each year was just to make it to the finish line. Game one through 82 felt like a burden to get through every night, a painstaking two-and-a-half hours of self-torture masquerading as professional basketball. As one watched Brandon Davies putz around the court and Isaiah Canaan unconsciously heave threes on a nightly basis, the only relief was knowing that the pain of today was fleeting, and the joy that the future could bring was boundless.
The plan in place to bring the Sixers towards the forefront of the NBA’s hierarchy was logical and worth supporting, but the poor product inevitably alienated a portion of the fanbase.