A week after forgetting to put on his jersey before a game, lollygagging his way through a passive performance, getting jeered by the Target Center crowd and insulting Timberwolves fans, Andrew Wiggins returned home.
There was virtually no reaction. If the Target Center crowd booed him Friday night, I missed it.
So a maximum-contract, supposed franchise player commits most of the deadly sins of sports stardom, including insulting the paying clientele, and draws no reaction, even after his first shot of the game produces an airball?
This might be the saddest aspect of Wiggins' career. He can't even muster the energy to be a good villain.
He should have paid more attention to Jimmy Butler, the current patron saint of NBA dysfunction, or Christian Laettner, the player the Wolves celebrated Friday night.
Butler embraced the role of world-wrestling-style villain. He was good enough to matter and arrogant enough to think he mattered more than he actually did. His talent and toughness made his obstinance feel tragic — in Chicago, Minnesota and now in Philadelphia, where Butler has set a personal record for clashing with his coach and key teammates. The man is more committed to drama than Denzel Washington.
Laettner, another former Wolf, was similarly committed to villainy. He stepped on opponents while at Duke and once, in an infamous interview in the Wolves' locker room with a Star Tribune reporter, pointed at the name plates above most of his teammates' lockers and recited, "Loser, loser, loser … "
Chuck Knoblauch knew how to properly alienate Minnesotans. He demanded the same contract that was given to Kirby Puckett, and not long after demanded a trade.